Chapter 211
He held her gaze. The playfulness faded from his expression, replaced by a quiet, burning intensity — as though she were the only other person on earth.
Jocelyn’s breath hitched. She looked down at her spreadsheet and typed nonsense into a cell just to appear busy.
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Aaden wriggled free and sprinted over to the patio. “Auntie Jo! Did you see? I did a goal!”
“I saw, sweetie,” she smiled, closing her laptop. “You were amazing.”
𝘗oр𝘶l𝘢r 𝘴𝘁о𝘳𝗂𝗲s оn 𝗴a𝗅𝘯ov𝖾lѕ.𝗰𝗼𝗆
Gaston followed, slightly out of breath, a sheen of moisture on his neck. He smelled of grass and exertion.
“Water break,” he announced.
He reached for the glass of lemonade sitting on Jocelyn’s table and, without asking, leaned down and drank through her straw.
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Jocelyn watched the liquid travel up the clear plastic. She watched his throat move as he swallowed.
He straightened, dragging his tongue across his lower lip to catch a stray drop.
“Thanks,” he murmured.
Jocelyn stared at the straw.
Indirect kiss. Her heart did a traitorous little flip.
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The living room of the penthouse was covered in fabric swatches. Silk, satin, chiffon — it looked as though a textile factory had exploded across every available surface.
Mrs. Thorne, the wedding planner, was arranging color palettes on the coffee table with practiced efficiency.
“Since we’re accelerating the timeline for the private ceremony, the details are even more crucial,” she explained. “For the bridesmaids, we need to decide on a shade. Lavender, perhaps? To complement the overall palette?”
Gaston was sitting on the sofa, Aaden on the floor by his feet, pushing a toy car along an imaginary road.
“We need to finalize the date first,” Gaston said, looking at Jocelyn. “Given Grandma’s health—”
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“We keep the date,” Jocelyn interrupted firmly. “Next month. If we delay, she might give up. She needs the goal. The doctor said so.”
Gaston nodded slowly. “Okay. Next month it is. We accelerate everything.”
Aaden popped his head over the edge of the coffee table. “Can I be the ring bear?”
“Ring bearer,” Gaston corrected gently. “And yes. You have the most important job.”
“Who are the bridesmaids?” Aaden asked, picking up a strip of pink silk and examining it. “Is Carmen one?”
The room went still.
Jocelyn adjusted a swatch of blue velvet. “Carmen is busy, Aaden. She has a lot of work at the hotel.”
“Why?” Aaden pouted. “I like her. She smells nice.”
“She has her own wedding to plan,” Jocelyn explained gently. “She has a fiancé. Quentin. Remember?”
Aaden’s face fell. His lower lip wobbled with the full sincerity of a child who does not yet know how to hide his feelings.
“But… my dad likes her,” Aaden whispered — loudly.
Jocelyn froze. Mrs. Thorne became very interested in a piece of lace.
Gaston raised an eyebrow and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Does he now?”
“He looks at her photo on his phone,” Aaden revealed, dropping the admission with the effortless precision of the completely innocent. “When he thinks I’m sleeping.”
Jocelyn’s eyes widened. She remembered the photo she had glimpsed in the drawer weeks ago. It wasn’t a one-off.
.