Lullaby 292
Elissa shook herself from her thoughts, changed her shoes, and walked over to the dining table. A frown creased her brow as she glanced back at the man behind her. “Which bakery did you get the cake from?”
She was surprised Rowan even remembered her birthday. Now, she was even more surprised he’d managed to find a baker with such
questionable skills.
The cartoon character she loved–Doraemon–was so misshapen, it could probably be renamed “Doraemon Gone Wrong.”
Rowan caught her expression, then glanced at the cake. “You don’t like how it looks?”
It never crossed Elissa’s mind that he might have made it himself, so she replied honestly, “It’s a bit ugly. Next time, pick a different bakery.”
Rowan’s brows twitched. He cleared his throat, nodded seriously, and said, “Mm, maybe it got ruined on the way here. Make your wish first.”
There was something familiar about the way he said it.
She hesitated, then asked slowly, “Wait… did you make this cake yourself?”
Rowan struck a match, lighting the candles one by one with his long, deft fingers. At her question, his movements faltered for a split second. Just as he flicked out the match, his phone rang in his pocket.
He slipped out to the balcony, answering with his usual cool detachment. “Speak.”
“Boss,” came lan’s voice on the other end.
He knew this wasn’t the best time to call, but the news was too important to wait. He kept it brief: “We’ve got the results you asked for. Miss Elissa and Frank… they’re officially divorced.”
14.30 1
“The Atwater family’s been keeping it under wraps, probably worried about their stock price or something, so it’s taken us a few days to confirm. But the paperwork went through before the holidays. Miss Elissa–and Mrs. Garrett–have been telling the truth all along.”
By “Mrs. Garrett,” lan meant Janice Garrett, not Rowan’s own grandmother.
Elissa couldn’t hear who Rowan was talking to, nor could she catch any of the conversation. All she saw was Rowan’s dark, intense gaze suddenly fixed on her, his eyes burning with a storm of emotion.
But when he hung up and strode back toward her, all that was left was a reckless, unguarded relief.
Sensing the sudden shift in his mood, Elissa felt a flicker of unease. “Are we still making a wish?”
Without answering, Rowan reached over and flipped off the dining room lights, crossing the space to her in three long strides. The candle flames
danced in his wake.
In the next instant, he caught her by the waist and lifted her up onto the table, his voice rough and low. “Make one.”
But he didn’t give her the chance. Instead, he bent down and caught her lips in a fierce, unyielding kiss.
He gave her no space to resist, overwhelming her with the urgency of his touch.
This time, even his breath was scorching.
His hand pressed against her waist, the heat of his palm searing through the thin fabric, sending shivers down her spine. The raw intensity of his kiss left her reeling, just a little bit scared. She struggled, her words muffled as she tried to speak, “Wait–weren’t we making a wish?”
Rowan ignored her. One arm locked around her waist, the other cradled the back of her head, holding her in place.
They didn’t separate until they were both breathless, hearts pounding out
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14:30
of sync.
Only then did he break away, resting his forehead against hers, as if he couldn’t bear to let go. He brushed a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth. As he lingered there, Rowan suddenly reached out and snuffed out the candles on the cake. Then, without another word, he scooped Elissa into his arms and carried her straight toward the bedroom.