Bound by the Past, Locked by the Heart novel Chapter 118

She pulled her gaze away and smiled. "No, we're just friends."

Mr. Cavanaugh looked a bit embarrassed. "I'm getting old, my eyes must be playing tricks on me. My apologies."

The interview continued.

But Willa couldn't shake the feeling that the gaze on her was even heavier than before.

When they finished, Mr. Cavanaugh insisted on giving them two boxes of freshly baked pastries.

"Here, try these. They just came out of the oven. Eat them while they're hot."

Willa couldn't refuse, so she graciously accepted.

Stepping out of Sweetbrier Pastry, the alley was quiet, save for a few passing pedestrians.

Randal walked beside her, carrying the two boxes of pastries.

Every few steps, she couldn't resist sneaking a glance at him.

He was wearing a black jacket, the sunlight softening the sharp lines of his face.

Looking at his profile, she suddenly thought to herself: if only time could freeze right here.

No messy pasts, no family barriers, no fiancée. Just him and her.

"What are you looking at?" his voice suddenly broke the silence.

Willa snapped out of her daze, realizing he had turned his head to look at her, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

She quickly averted her eyes. "Nothing."

He let out a low chuckle, slipping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her closer.

"Do I look good?" he leaned in, whispering softly in her ear. "I'll let you look all you want tonight."

Willa's face flushed hot, and she pushed him away. "It's broad daylight. Can you be serious?"

On their way back, they passed The Sweet Bowl.

Willa stood at the entrance, suddenly finding it hard to walk away.

Randal followed her gaze. "Want some?"

Willa nodded.

He took her hand and led her inside, finding a table by the window.

She ordered a sweet red bean soup, and he ordered a black sesame soup.

When the desserts arrived, she scooped a spoonful into her mouth.

It still tasted like her childhood.

Willa lowered her head and went back to eating her red bean soup, her eyes burning slightly.

When Randal wanted to treat someone well, he could patiently grind away all his sharp edges, reshaping himself into exactly what she desired.

But she also knew this was all just a fleeting illusion, bound to shatter into pieces at the slightest touch.

She swallowed her last bite of red bean soup and looked up. "Let's go. Time to head back."

That evening, as they curled up on the couch watching TV, he suddenly spoke. "Willa, don't go out for the next few days, okay? I've already hired a team for you. Let them run the errands."

"Why?" She looked up at him.

"I worry about you."

Willa smiled. "What's there to worry about?"

He just pulled her tighter against him and didn't say another word.

She wasn't paying any attention to whatever was playing on the TV. All she could think was that she only had two days left.

She felt she ought to do something in these final two days.

Otherwise, it would be a shame.

Suddenly, she turned around and straddled his lap, facing him.