Page 35 of The Sweet Chef and the Corporate Queen

Before I can argue, the swinging door to the dining room opens. I glance up, expecting Jameson or one of the servers.

Instead, Jules Sinclair stands in the doorway.

For a moment, I think I'm imagining things. She should be halfway to the airport by now. But then she takes a step into the kitchen, looking both determined and uncertain.

"Jules?" I manage, setting down the towel. "You're still here."

"Apparently." The hint of a smile plays at her lips.

The kitchen staff exchanges glances, suddenly finding urgent tasks on the other side of the room.

"Did you miss your shuttle?" I ask, confused.

"No." She takes another step closer. "I decided not to take it."

My heart kicks hard against my ribs. "Why?"

"Because I realized something." Her voice is steady but quieter than usual. "I've spent my entire adult life making careful, logical decisions. Planning every move. Calculating every risk."

She's close enough now that I can see the flecks of amber in her dark eyes.

"And?" I prompt when she pauses.

"And somehow, the most illogical, unplanned thing I've done in years is what feels most right." She draws a deep breath. "I don't want to leave, Declan."

The words hang between us, momentous in their simplicity.

"What about your company? Mia's school?" I ask, needing to be sure she's thought this through.

"We're staying a few more days, not forever." Her smile widens slightly. "Though I might be open to discussing longer-term arrangements eventually."

"And Mia?"

"Is currently with Evie. I wanted to find you first."

I take a step toward her, closing the distance between us. "Why?"

"Because I need to know if I'm too late." Vulnerability flashes across her face. "If I've pushed you away one too many times."

I reach out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Jules Sinclair, you could never be too late."

The kitchen around us fades away as I slowly lean in, giving her every chance to step back. She doesn't. Instead, she meetsme halfway, her lips finding mine with certainty that wasn't there on the bridge.

This kiss is different—not hesitant, not a question, but an answer. My hands slide to her waist, drawing her closer as her arms wind around my neck. She tastes faintly of coffee and possibilities.

When we finally part, there's scattered applause from the far side of the kitchen. Georgia's voice calls out, "About time, Chef!"

Jules laughs against my lips, a real laugh that lights up her entire face. "Is your staff always this invested in your love life?"

"Only when it involves stubborn executives who won't admit they like my pancakes."

She pulls back slightly, meeting my eyes with surprising seriousness. "It's not just the pancakes, you know."

"I know." I brush my thumb across her cheek. "Though they didn't hurt my case."

"DECLAN!" Mia's voice carries through the kitchen as she bursts through the door, Evie following behind with an apologetic smile. "Evie says we're STAYING! And I can help with dinner and?—"

She stops abruptly, taking in the scene before her. Her mother still in my arms, both of us unable to stop smiling.

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