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"Here we are," Ryan announces as the car comes to a stop.

"Home," I whisper, more to myself than to him.

"Or at least, it could be," he adds softly, looking at me with hope in his eyes.

"Maybe. I do realize that we’ve only known each other a week," I concede, allowing myself to imagine a future I never thought I'd consider. A life less complicated, but perhaps, infinitely richer.

"Let's go inside," Ryan suggests, his hand finding mine. "Our billionaire-style date may be over, but something tells me the adventure is just beginning."

"Lead the way," I reply, ready to follow him anywhere.

Chapter 13

Ryan

I pause by the living room couch while Julia keeps walking. It takes her a little while to notice I’m no longer behind her, but when she does, she stops and turns around. As she’s walking back towards me, her fingers glide along the table I built with my bare hands, like she's appreciating something unique to only me.

A 'damn' escapes me as I drink her in. She's stunning, standing there, an unexpected visitor that’s made me rethink what being alone looks like.

Our gazes lock, and the world tilts. It's just us, two almost strangers holding a silent conversation.

"Ry?" she whispers.

"Jules." With only a few long strides, I close the distance between us but hold back from pulling her to me yet.

"Your table," she starts, still caressing the surface. "It's beautiful."

"Built it with you in mind," I confess, my voice low, hoping the words don't scare her off.

"Me?" Surprise flickers in her eyes, pulling a smile from my lips.

"Every curve, every finish." I step closer, our bodies almost touching. "I thought of you. I thought of you when I didn’t even know you. I thought of a woman that I’d like to share a meal with sitting at this very table, the one who I’d like to come home to after a long day’s work."

"Ryan..." she pants out.

"Jules," I reply, my own voice raspy.

For a heartbeat, I let myself imagine it all—waking up to her every morning, sharing quiet cups of coffee while watching the sun come up, laughing together by firelight under the stars.

But then reality sets in, and I remember who I am. The secret billionaire with walls built so high they touch the clouds. Walls erected to protect not just my fortune but my heart.

"Hello," Julia says softly, her voice barely above a whisper, pulling me back from my thoughts.

"Hey," I manage to choke out. My throat suddenly dry.

She moves, just a fraction closer, and it's all I can do not to close the gap, to not pull her into my arms and never let go. It's a dance we're doing, Julia and I, one where every step, every breath, every heartbeat counts.

"Your workshop," she murmurs, changing the subject but not the tension that sizzles between us. "I've seen your creations... Ryan, you're an artist."

"Thanks." It's all I can say without spilling everything else that's on my tongue—the fears, the hopes, the longing.

"Is this what truly makes you happy now?" Her gaze sweeps over the table again, and then back to me.

"Yep. This is me now. Wood and silence."

"Wood, silence, and me?" Her words are playful, but her eyes are serious.

"Wood, silence, and you," I confirm, daring to believe that this could be our beginning.