He was the outsider, the drifter passing through. The one who’d have to figure out how to untangle himself from the chaos of his own life if he ever hoped to find a place in hers.
Getting a bit ahead of yourself, aren’t you, old boy?
Then he looked at the scene she’d created — the soft candlelight, the perfect meal, the private corner tucked away from everyone else. All of it, done forhim.So they could spend Christmas Eve together.
It had to mean something.Right?
He forced himself to stop overthinking, to stop searching for hidden meanings in candlelight and soft smiles. For once, maybe he could just let things be.
She’d chosen to spend her evening with him. That was enough.
For now.
Leaning back in his chair, he let the moment settle around him: the flicker of the candles, the easy rhythm of her laughter, the faint sound of waves rolling onto the beach below. For the first time in a long while, he wasn’t thinking about headlines, contracts, or the next film set.
All he wanted was this — her voice, her company, the peace that came with being near her.
If there was a way to hold onto it, to make it last beyond tonight, he’d find it. But for now, he was content to just be a man at a table with the woman who made everything else fade into the background.
“Do you need to go back to your guests tonight?”
Her fork hovered midair. She turned her head, meeting his gaze.
“No,” she said calmly — almost too calmly, he thought — considering how his pulse had just leaped clean off the charts.
“So … once we’re done eating … my place?”
He hadn’t realized he was holding his breath until her lips curved around a secretive smile.
“Mine’s closer.” She slipped the fork between her lips and began to chew.
Well. Damn. His heart would never recover a steady rhythm again. “I like your idea,” he managed, his voice rough.
“Hmm. I rather thought you might.”
Then it happened — a whisper of warmth brushing against his ankle under the table. His breath caught, eyes flicking to hers as the meaning sank in, heat flooding every thought.
“Suzette.”
She tilted her head, eyes wide and guileless. “Justin.”
“Are you done eating?” His appetite had shifted entirely. Hunger of a very different kind now coiled in his gut.
Still holding his gaze, she dabbed her lips with the napkin. “I am now.”
“Good.”
He pushed his chair back, the scrape loud in the hush between them, and rose to his feet. Taking her hand, he drew her up beside him. “Lead the way,” he said, his voice rough. “Fastest route.”
They didn’t bother with subtlety. Suzette led him straight through the kitchen, the air rich with the scent of roasted rosemary and sugar. A few staff glanced up but said nothing, knowing smiles curving their lips.
She paused at the cold station, snagging two martini glasses filled with white chocolate mousse, their tops dusted with cocoa and a curl of candied orange.
“Dessert to go,” she whispered over her shoulder.
Justin grinned. “You think of everything.” And he could think of very creative ways to eat that creamy dessert.
They slipped out the service entrance and crossed toward the staircase leading to her flat above the office extension.
