Chapter 53

"I learned to cook while studying abroad," Austin remarked, ladling soup into his bowl with the easy air of someone recalling a minor detail. "Later, once work consumed everything, I barely touched a stove. I lost the rhythm of it-the way heat bends to your control. But now that l've picked it up again, it feels almost instinctive."

Brinley glanced up, only to meet the depth of his gaze. His eyes were steady, like still water hiding currents too deep to fathom.

A nervous flutter stole through her chest, and she quickly dropped her eyes, pretending to fuss over her plate, unaware of the streak of sauce clinging to her lips.

When the last bite was gone, she sprang up to gather the dishes. Her movements were brisk, almost clumsy, as though flight into the kitchen were the only way to escape the honeyed tension thickening between them.

Austin caught her wrist just as she reached for the plate.

"I'll take care of the dishes." The cool press of his fingers lingered on her skin, his grip gentle yet insistent."Go sit in the living room, or head upstairs and rest for a while."

Brinley gave a small tug to free herself. "It's fine, I can manage..."

But his hand tightened, firm enough to still her. Their gazes locked, so close that they could see the flutter of each other's lashes.

Her breath eased out in a hush, as if afraid the quiet spell between them might shatter.

"Please, just be a dear and do as I say?" Austin's voice dropped lower, husky and gentle. "The plan's already submitted. You should rest now."

Heat crept up Brinley's face, a sudden tide of warmth and comfort flooding her chest. Almost as if startled by her own reaction, she pulled her hand back and hurried out of the kitchen.

"I'll wait in the living room, then!" she called over her shoulder.

Left behind, Austin leaned against the kitchen doorway, gazedrifting to his fingertips.

The soft warmth of her wrist lngered on his skin, leaving him with a smile he couldn't quite suppress, his eyes glinting with a quiet brightness.

Across the living room, Brinley tucked herself into the corner of the sofa, fingers gripping the edge of a throw pillow until the fabric creased.

Her palm pressed against her chest, trying to steady the frantic rhythm of her heartbeat.

From the kitchen came silence as the water shut off.

Moments later, Austin emerged, a towelin hand, drying his fingers. His gaze swept over her curled figure,and a low chuckle slipped from his lips.

He settled onto the sofa across from her, remote in hand. "What do you feel like watching?"

Brinley only gave a slight shake of her head, lips pressed together.

Moments later, she cleared her throat, forcing a light tone. "Austin, how did you even have time to personally..."

Before she could finish, he cut her off, "Come here."

He patted the empty spot on the sofa, the cushion dipping slightly beneath his hand.

Brinley's grip on the pillow tightened as she shook her head. "I'm fine right here."

"Sit with me." His voice carried quiet insistence, gentle but impossible to refuse.

The living room was bathed in dim light, the TV off, and silence was broken only by the soft rhythm of their breathing.

After a beat of hesitation, Brinley pushed herself up and reluctantly sank down beside him. Though nearly half a meter separated them, the space between seemed charged, as if some unseen current had wrapped around them, warming the air and blurring the distance.

Austin kept silent, idly flipping through a financial magazine, the crisp snap of each page unnervingly loud in the quiet.

Brinley, on the other hand, sat stiffly upright, her back tense, a restless unease knotting in her chest.

Her eyes flicked sideways, catching Austin's calm figure absorbed in his reading, yet a subtle prickle told her he was still aware of her every move.

"I should take care of some work upstairs," she blurted, rising too quickly, seizing the excuse as if it were her only escape.

Austin's gaze lingered on her, a knowing curve tugging at his lips. "Like I said earlier, you needto rest."

"It'll just be a quick check. It won't take long." With that, Brinley bolted up the stairs.

Behind the closed door, she slumped against it, chest rising and falling in sharp bursts until her breath finally steadied.

Downstairs, Austin followed her retreat with his eyes, then set the magazine aside. His fingers tapped lightly against his knee as the amusement in his expression deepened.

At the desk upstairs, Brinley sat motionless before her computer, staring at the black screen that mirrored her faint, shadowed reflection.

The flush on her cheeks lingered, her'mind replaying the heat of his fingertips and the low timbre of his voice.

Her heartbeat skittered wildly once more, and with a frustrated tug at her hair, Brinley grabbed a glass of water and drank deeply.

The icy rush slid down her throat but did nothing to cool the restless flutter in her chest.

"Brinley, get a hold of yourself. Don't let a man's sweet tricks reel you in again," she muttered under her breath. Yet another whisper rose from the back of her mind, softer and tempting. "But what if he's truly sincere?"

The moment that thought surfaced, Brinley shoved it back down.

She rubbed at her temples, trying to chase away the storm in her head, but her gaze betrayed her and slid back to the phone.

On the screen lingered Austin's last message from the morning-his gentle reminder to take care and get some rest.

Her fingertips hovered above the screen, trembling slightly, before she pressed the lock button with a snap.

She refused to let those messy emotions linger. Shaking her head once more, she resolved to put it aside and let herself sink into sleep.