CHAPTER 80: CHAPTER 80: I KNOW IT’S YOU

After the meal, Jean Ellison took out her wallet from her handbag, pulled out a few bills, and walked over to the elderly lady who was clearing the table.

"Grandma, let me pay the bill."

She handed the money over.

The elderly lady hurriedly waved her hand and wiped her hands on her apron. "No need, no need, we don’t take money here."

Jean’s hand froze in mid-air, her brows slightly furrowed. "Why?"

The elderly lady glanced over at Mr. Holden, who was bending down patiently helping the little girl put on a coat, seemingly not noticing this side.

She lowered her voice slightly, her tone filled with gratitude. "The owner of this store is Mr. Holden."

Jean was taken aback, a questioning look in her eyes.

The elderly lady explained, "Four years ago, the original landlord wanted to increase the rent, double it. My husband and I couldn’t afford it, so we were packing up, ready to go back to our hometown."

She sighed and continued, "Coincidentally, Mr. Holden came for a meal that day and saw us packing up. He asked about it, and my husband, being straightforward, told him."

"Later," the elderly lady’s tone became cheerful, "within a couple of days, Mr. Holden came again and said he bought the place and asked us to keep the business going at ease."

She looked at Jean, her eyes sincere. "Mr. Holden doesn’t charge us rent. We’re already deeply grateful, so how could we take money for the meals? This shop is open thanks to Mr. Holden."

Listening to this, Jean’s fingers holding the money tightened slightly, her gaze involuntarily turning to the tall figure at the door.

Justin Holden had just adjusted Jesse’s collar, straightened up, his posture upright, his distinguished profile looking exceptionally stern under the light.

He met her gaze with a faint look, saying nothing. Everything the old lady said was true; it indeed happened.

Jean was silent for a moment, slowly folded the money, and put it back in her bag.

Four years ago, he should have just transitioned from being an intern lawyer to a junior lawyer and didn’t have much money on hand.

Did he buy the store because he liked the food here?

Probably not.

She remembered, when she mentioned Serene Garden to Justin Holden back then, he was dismissive, saying he wasn’t interested in this kind of private home cuisine.

She said she wanted to come here for a meal and had already made a reservation in line, but he said he might not have time to accompany her.

At night.

Jean stepped out from Jesse’s room; the child was already asleep. The clock on the wall showed nine o’clock.

Only a cold white floor lamp was turned on in the living room, its light enveloping Justin Holden in a vague shadow.

His tall frame sunk deep into the single sofa, his head leaning back powerlessly, Adam’s apple noticeably prominent, struggling as he breathed rapidly.

The black short hair scattered on his forehead was dampened by cold sweat, clinging to his unusually flushed skin.

The usually neat shirt collar was subconsciously undone by two buttons revealing his collarbone and a piece of chest.

Faintly visible under the shirt fabric were red rashes, not too many, but visible to the naked eye.

He kept his eyes tightly shut, brows knitted, while his raven-black eyelashes cast a flickering shadow over his eyelids.

His breathing was labored, his chest heaving heavily.

Jean pursed her lips, a sense of foreboding in her heart, and quickly walked towards him.

As she got closer, she could clearly see the bright red rashes spreading across his neck and revealed collar, shocking to behold.

"Justin?"

She called him softly, her voice a little tense.

The man’s eyelids trembled a few times, the creases on them deeper than usual, his narrow eyes barely opened a slit.

His eyes were misty, losing their usual sharpness and calm, looking somewhat unfocused, slowly aligning with hers.

"Mmm..."

Jean frowned, immediately turning to get allergy medicine, there should be some in the medicine cabinet.

She came back, handed over water and allergy medicine: "Take the medicine."

The man tried to lift his hand, but it merely lifted slightly before falling limply down, his voice hoarse.

"...No strength."

The situation was apparently more severe than he thought during the day.

Jean held the pill hesitantly, then sat beside him.

One hand gently supporting his nape, the edge of the water cup approached his dry lips, the other hand holding the pill, she softly spoke.

"Open your mouth."

The man obediently parted his lips slightly, his breath hotly brushing over her slightly cool fingers.

Jean placed the pill into his mouth and then gave him water to drink.

His Adam’s apple rolled once more, swallowing the pill with difficulty, a few glistening droplets of water trickling from the corner of his lips, trailing down his chin, disappearing into his shirt collar.

After feeding him the medicine, Jean attempted to help him up.

"Go rest in the room, it’s uncomfortable here."

He almost leaned his entire weight on her, Jean struggling to support his tall, heavy frame as they staggered towards the master bedroom.

The man’s arm draped over her shoulder, the scorching heat radiating through the fabric, his heavy breath hitting the side of her neck.

It took considerable effort to reach the bed, Jean tried to lay him down, but his weight pulled her along, causing them both to fall heavily onto the soft mattress, bouncing slightly.

Jean let out a small cry of surprise, instinctively pressing her hands to get up, only to be held down by a force.

The arm that had been limply draped over her shoulder slid down to wrap around her waist, suddenly tightening, pulling her entire body against his scorching chest.

"Don’t move..." his hoarse voice sounded close to her ear, unbearable in its heat, "...just for a while."

Jean froze, feeling his heart beating fiercely within his chest, pounding against her body.

The man, eyes closed, cheek unconsciously nuzzling her neck’s side, seeking solace in the cool touch, his breathing still rapid.

Jean refused to obey, shifting slightly, pressing a hand against his chest trying to get up.

The next second, the arm around her waist tightened even more, as if trying to meld her into his heated form.

"Claire..."

The voice was muffled and hoarse by her neck, heavy with nasal tone.

Jean froze, staring at him in astonishment.

Her shoulders trembled slightly, not from cold, but from fright.

Justin’s cheek rubbed unconsciously against her neck’s hollow, mesmerized by the soft touch of her cool skin.

His senses clouded by the allergic reaction, he fell into a delusion.

"Don’t go..."

He mumbled again, the voice fragmented.

His thin lips moved against the most sensitive skin of her neck, the man’s familiar scent making her nerves taut.

The large hand roved over her back, a nostalgic familiarity.

The difference in strength was evident, his disregard for her struggle pinned her firmly against his chest.

Through the thin house clothes, she could feel the taut lines of muscle on his arm.

She looked down, seeing his shirt open, all buttons undone, the tight and firm bare chest glistened with a masculine sheen of sweat.

With his breathing, rising and falling, every detail showcased the man’s sensuality.

"I know it’s you..."

He muttered again ambiguously, dry lips inadvertently brushing against her collarbone.

A slight touch like that was an electric shock through her whole body, causing her to gasp.

She tried to break free again, only to be held even tighter.