Chapter 23
Adrian POV
There’s something wrong. Lily’s face is red and her eyes are shiny with unshed tears. Julian won’t make eye contact with me. He’s looking at Lily warily.
The wolf in me growls, but I keep it in check. It could just be an argument over Julian not showing up for dinner.
“Everything is fine.” Lily says quietly. “Julian is just leaving.”
I look at my son. He has a backpack over his shoulder. I know he was planning to stay the night. Why is he leaving?
Julian adjusts the bag and adds, “I just remembered I can’t stay. I have a thing tomorrow.”
I sense the lie, but I just nod. In the past, my son wouldn’t have given an excuse. In fact, he wouldn’t have been here at all. I don’t want to give him a reason to argue with me and make things worse.
He gives Lily one more look and then walks back down the hall. I bring my eyes back to her. She has her arms crossed over her chest and she looks near tears.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” I ask.
“I’m fine. Everything is fine.” She says and turns to go back into her room. “Good night.”
“Sleep well.” I say. The wolf practically begs me to go in with her. Demand to know why she’s upset and do something to fix it. I resist him. Instead, I head back down the hall, fighting the urge to turn around the entire way.
Lily POV
The next day, I’m summoned to the door to find a bouquet of flowers being delivered. They’re from Julian with a note. “I’m sorry.”
As though flowers were going to fix everything. I can’t be bought like that, and he isn’t going to downplay what happened. Not this time.
I think about returning them, but I put them in my room anyway. They’re pretty and it’s not their fault my boyfriend screwed up.
I’m heading back to Lily’s piano lesson when a hear a crash and a loud curse coming from the kitchen.
That’s not the chef.
I walk in and for the second time in under twenty-four hours, I find myself in a state of shock.
Adrian stands in the kitchen, an apron over his dress shirt and pants. A skillet lies on the floor with rice and veggies strewn everywhere. He’s shaking his hand and there’s a smell of smoke and something burnt in the air.
“Everything alright in here?” I ask, gazing at the mess before me.
“No.” Adrian answers. “The chef is gone, and Grace is insisting on chicken and rice pilaf for dinner.”
“I take it’s not going well?” I ask, raising a brow and looking pointedly at the floor.
“No. It is not.” Adrian says, still flexing his hand.
“Did you hurt yourself?” I ask, rushing forward to take his hand. There’s an ugly red mark across his palm. I drag him over to the sink, turn on the cold water, and push his hand under it.
“I’m alright.” He insists, but I ignore him. It’s just like a man to insist he’s fine when he’s not. The burn looks ugly. I’m suddenly very conscientious of the fact that I’m grasping Adrian’s hand. Granted I’m trying to help him, but that fact doesn’t keep my cheeks from flushing and my skin from heating again.
“Where’s the chef?” I ask almost accusatorily.
“Vacation.” Adrian answers. “Grace and I usually do take out when he’s gone, but she asked for this, and I decided to give it a try. You can tell I don’t often cook.”
I can’t help the smile that breaks out across my face. “I’ll help.” I say, “Where’s the chicken?”
Adrian points to the sink and I start dicing the chicken and putting a new pan of rice and veggies on the stove.
“You seem to know what you’re doing. Where did you learn to cook?” Adrian asks me.
“One of my foster families made cooking dinner my responsibility. I taught myself and actually learned to enjoy it.” I answer.
“They gave that job to a child?” He asks incredulously.
“Yeah, that family wasn’t my favorite.” I admit trying to be as lighthearted as possible. I don’t want him to pity me. “Most were pretty great though.”
“Tell me.” He urges me and sits on a stool. I oblige, telling about my childhood and the various families I lived with. He listens intently, asking questions as though we weren’t just chatting easily. As though everything I said mattered. By the time dinner is done and the kitchen is cleaned up, I feel like I’ve told him everything there is to know about my life.
“Let me check your hand.” I say reaching for him.
“It really is fine.” He insists, but he lets me take it anyway. I study the angry red mark on his palm. It looks ok, but I take out the first aid kit and apply the burn salve anyway. I’m gently massaging the salve into his skin when I notice him staring at me.
My cheeks blush as I realize what I’m doing. I should have asked before I touched him. He could have done this himself. But it’s too late now, and he’s not stopping me. It feels intimate. My taking care of him like this. My entire body flushes and I can feel every beat of my racing heart.
I need to learn to stay away from this man.
“Where did you get this?” His question brings my attention away from his hand and to the small, barely there bruise on my arm. Arian brings his hand up to take my arm, studying the purple mark.
“I don’t remember. I must have bumped something.” I lie. The little mark is exactly where Julian’s thump had been last night.
I can’t tell if he believes me, but my pounding heart prays he does. I don’t want something like this to come between him and his son. Their relationship was just starting to improve.
Suddenly, a voice calls into the kitchen. “Baby? You in here?”
It’s Julian. I drop Adrian’s hand like it’s a snake and take a step away from him just before Julian walks into the kitchen.
“There you are!” He says happily. As though we hadn’t fought last night. He walks up and plants a kiss on my cheek. “Room for one more for dinner?”
“Of course.” Adrian says. I can tell he’s pleased. Julian probably hasn’t joined his father for a meal in years.
Adrian POV
We are all sitting down to dinner together and I’m watching the couple across from me with a mixture of guilt and envy.
Grace is chattering happily with Julian and he’s obliging her in every way, telling her jokes and teasing her to make her giggle with joy. My son has always been fond of Grace. I’m glad to see that hasn’t changed despite his feelings toward me.
Lily is smiling and relaxed. Even though it’s obvious they fought yesterday, she seems happy now. I see Julian whisper something to her, so quiet even my wolf can’t hear. She nods back and smiles a little.
They seem happy. That’s all I want for them. It should bring me satisfaction to see them like this. My wolf growls discontentedly, telling me that I’m lying to myself. In a way I am, but in another way, I’m not. I do want them both to be happy. I just don’t want them to be together.
Suddenly Grace smiles devilishly and asks in that bold voice of hers, “When are you going to get married?”
Julian laughs and Lily chokes on her food.
When she gets her throat cleared, she answers, “If we do, that will be a long time from now.”
“Maybe not.” Julian smiles at her and Lily looks at him questioningly. “Life is short. Why wait?”
He says it like he’s teasing her. Lily rolls her eyes at him, but she looks nervous and uncomfortable.
There’s something in the way he said it that tells me my son is planning something. My wolf growls low and threatening in response. Could he be planning to propose? If so, will he tell her what he is? Who we are?
My stomach knots in protest and I find that despite how good the food that Lily prepared is, I can’t eat another bite.
“See?” The wolf says. “You are lying to yourself. If he marries her, if he marks her, what will you do then?”
It’s a question I don’t have an answer to. What would I do?
