Page 99 of Wisteria and Cloves

The thought of spending an entire day alone with Julian sent a thrill of nervous excitement through me. "I'd love that," I said, unable to keep the eagerness from my voice.

His smile broadened, and he reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering against my cheek. "It's settled then. I'll make the arrangements."

I leaned into his touch without thinking, my body responding to him with an ease that still surprised me. "Should I dress a certain way?"

"Comfortably," he replied, his thumb grazing my cheekbone. "We'll be doing quite a bit of walking.”

The way Julian said“comfortably”made my cheeks warm—like he wasn’t just thinking about walking. Like maybe he was imagining other things too, quieter, more intimate moments that had nothing to do with orchids or footpaths. The thought fluttered low in my stomach, a curious mix of anticipation and uncertainty.

“I’ll pick something soft,” I murmured, trying not to let my voice tremble with the sudden rush of awareness curling through me. “Something easy to move in.”

His eyes flicked down to my mouth, just briefly, before returning to mine. “Good.”

It was such a simple word. But the way he said it made me feel seen in a way I wasn’t used to. Wanted, not just for what I might become, but exactly as I was now. The wind stirred the leaves around us, and for a few heartbeats, we just stood there in that hush, like the world had paused to let us linger in it.

Then Julian’s hand slipped from my cheek to my lower back, the contact steadying but not possessive. “Come on,” he said gently. “Let’s head back before the others come looking for us and start speculating.”

I laughed under my breath, the sound lighter than I expected. “Christopher would probably start taking bets.”

“Oh, he already has,” Julian said with a crooked grin. “He’s collecting odds on who gets the first solo date.”

I blinked, half-laughing. “Are you serious?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Julian laughed, seeing my face.

“Who’s in the lead?” I was genuinely curious, as a smile came over my face.

Julian gave me a look that could only be described as smug Alpha confidence. “Who do youthink?” I elbowed him lightly, and he chuckled, the sound deep and rich as it rolled through his chest. Still, he didn’t let me go as we turned and walked the garden path back toward the house. His hand remained at the small of my back, guiding me gently but protectively, like I was something precious he intended to care for.

I hadn’t realized how good it could feel, to be watched over like that without it feeling like control. Just care. Attention. A quiet kind of claiming that asked nothing of me in return. The air in the house was cooler than the garden, scented with that familiar mix of cinnamon, cloves, and the faintest trace of fresh-cut flowers.

Julian kept one hand at the small of my back as we moved through the hallway. It wasn’t possessive—it never was with him. His touch was subtle, steady, and grounding in a way that made my body relax without thinking. I felt like I could lean into him and be caught every time.

I caught the sound of piano music coming from the sunken living room—a gentle, almost tentative melody. Each note rangsoft and mellow, as if it were meant to soothe rather than perform.

“Who is playing?” I asked, blinking as I was led to where the piano was playing. I paused at the door of the music room, Miles was sitting at the baby grand near the window, sleeves pushed up to his forearms, head slightly bowed.

For a moment, I just watched. Julian leaned in, murmuring close to my ear. “He plays when he’s thinking. He’s probably working through what he wants to say to you.”

I smiled faintly. “That’s… kind of poetic.”

Julian’s mouth quirked. “He’ll deny it, of course.” I let out a breath that was half laugh, half sigh, and stepped into the room fully. Christopher was already sprawled across the oversized rug, legs crossed, flipping through a magazine—upside down,for some reason. He looked up as soon as he saw us.

“Well,finally,” he drawled dramatically, tossing the magazine aside like it had betrayed him. “I was about to come searching. Thought you’d been eaten by a rogue goose out there.”

Julian didn’t miss a beat. “You’re confusing gardens with lakes again.”

“I contain multitudes,” Christopher said cheerfully, then turned his attention to me. “So? Did he woo you with botany? Sweep you off your feet with a dramatic reading of Latin plant names?”

“Close,” I said, trying not to laugh. “He invited me to a conservatory tomorrow.”

Christopher gasped and clutched his chest. “Asolodate? Already?” He turned toward the piano with exaggerated offense. “Miles, did you hear that? Julian has moved forward with tactical precision and none of us were warned.”

Miles didn’t stop playing, but a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You mean he asked her like a sane person instead of making it a production?”

“Where’s the romance insanity?” Christopher asked, scandalized. “I was planning roses, a handwritten sonnet, and maybe a falcon with a scroll tied to its leg.”

“That poor falcon,” I murmured, which made Miles chuckle softly at the keys.

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