Page 48 of Candy Cane Chains

"Oh my god." Sophie's squeal pierces through the speakers. "He's even hotter up close."

Julian's mouth curves into that dangerous half-smile. "I'll leave you to your call." His fingers trail along my shoulder as he walks away.

"I should go." Heat crawls up my neck as three knowing grins fill my screen.

"Sure you should." Jessica smirks. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"That list is getting shorter by the day," Lily teases, making Jessica roll her eyes. She might be a shark in the courtroom, but Jess is probably the least reserved of us all - despite her outward demeanor.

"Bye!" I close the laptop before they can embarrass me further.

I hop off the couch and head into the kitchen where I left all the cookie stuff I was working on before they called. I'm workingon mixing everything together when I feel Julian come behind me, pressing his chest against my back as he watches my hands work.

"Perfect control." His breath tickles my ear. "Your attention to detail is... impressive."

The warmth in his voice makes my chest tight. The words bubble up before I can stop them - three dangerous syllables that nearly slip past my lips. I catch them just in time, transforming them into a soft hum instead.

I'm not even sure why the words are popping up. Maybe it's because he's the very person who has ever cared, who has seen everything I need and given it to me, who knows what it is like deep down in my broken soul.

I know Julian wants me. But I'm not sure how he'll react to me saying I love him.

Julian's fingers trace down my arm to steady my hand as I finish a particularly intricate snowflake design. The simple touch sends heat scorching through my body. Everything about him does that to me now - every glance, every casual brush of contact.

"Here." He takes the piping bag, his large hands dwarfing mine. "Let me help."

I lean back against him, watching as he mirrors my technique with surprising precision. For someone so lethal, his movements carry an unexpected gentleness. The same hands that can break bones now carefully trace delicate patterns in white icing.

"You're a natural." I rest my head against his chest, breathing in his cologne mixed with the sweet scent of vanilla extract.

"I have an excellent teacher." He sets down the piping bag, turning me to face him. His thumb brushes sugar from my cheek, the gesture so tender it makes my heart ache.

No one has ever looked at me the way Julian does - like I'm something precious and rare. No one has ever treated me withsuch care while making me feel so safe, so protected. I've given him everything - my body, my trust, my heart - and for the first time in my life, I'm not scared of being hurt.

His ice-blue eyes search my face, and I wonder if he can read the emotions I'm trying so hard to contain. If he can see how completely, irrevocably his I've become.

I pull away from him to put the cookies in the oven, but when I turn back, I'm surprised to see that he isn't looking at me. As I start wiping down the marble counter, Julian's phone buzzes, something that has been happening almost nonstop since he came in here. His jaw tightens as he reads the message, fingers tapping out a response with sharp, decisive movements.

"Everything okay?" I pause my cleaning, studying the hard line of his shoulders.

"Fine." The single word comes out clipped. He doesn't look up from the screen, and that hits me In the chest.

I continue wiping circles into the counter, sneaking glances at him. Julian always gives me his full attention - it's one of the things that drew me in with him in the first place. The way he listens, really listens, making me feel like I'm the only person in his world. But now his focus is elsewhere, his thoughts clearly occupied by whatever keeps lighting up his phone.

I don't like it. It makes me feel…angry. Ignored. Rejected.

His thumb scrolls rapidly through what looks like a long message. The muscles in his forearm flex as his grip tightens on the device. I've never seen him this tense over a text before.

The timer chimes, making me jump. Julian doesn't even notice. He's typing again, his expression growing darker with each word.

"The cookies are done." I slide on the oven mitts, trying to keep my voice light.

"Mm." Another non-response. Another message.

I set the hot tray on the cooling rack, the cheerful shapes of stars and trees a stark contrast to the growing unease in my stomach. Julian moves to the living room, pacing as he makes a call. His voice is too low for me to make out the words, but the controlled anger in his tone is clear.

The distance between us feels bigger than the few feet separating the kitchen from the living room. I arrange cookies on a plate, trying to focus on the task instead of the knot forming in my chest. But each buzz of his phone, each muttered response, each step of his measured pacing chips away at my composure.

This isn't like him. Julian's always so present, so in control. Seeing him this distracted, this agitated... It makes my skin prickle with anxiety.

---