Roman and Julienne's heart desire-Chapter 186: Breakfast With The Thompson’s

"Thanks," Julie murmured softly, her voice still carrying a hint of shyness.

Roman’s smile deepened, warm and impossingly gentle. He leaned in without hurry, his presence enveloping her like a protective cloak, and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.

The touch was light, yet it sent a small wave of heat across her cheeks, as though his warmth had seeped straight through her skin.

It was already past eleven in the morning. Sunlight filtered through the long curtains of the room, scattering golden warmth across the floor.

Julie and Roman, fully dressed and finally prepared to step out, walked side by side toward the door.

Their footsteps fell in quiet rhythm as they moved down the stairs.

"Are you feeling alright now," Roman asked, tilting his head slightly so he could see her expression, "or should I help you walk?"

Julie blinked up at him, surprised. "You will help me... how?" She raised a brow, a tiny amused smile curving her lips.

The question came out more teasing than doubtful, her gaze lifting to meet the handsome man whose dark eyes seemed to soften even more at her reaction.

"Bridal style, you know," Roman said, demonstrating with a playful gesture—his arms slightly lifting as though preparing to sweep her off her feet right there.

Julie’s smile widened. A small laugh pushed at her lips, though she lowered her gaze quickly, suddenly shy under the weight of his affection.

"No... it’s alright. It’s no longer sore," she whispered.

Her voice trembled faintly—not from pain, but from the way he kept looking at her, those deep black sea–like eyes filled with a tenderness that tightened something inside her chest.

They reached the last few steps when a familiar voice rang from the dining room.

"Here are our couple—or shall we say, our newlyweds," Lisa called out, the teasing tone impossible to miss.

Julie froze for a heartbeat. Her eyes widened, and in an instant her face flushed a warm, blooming red.

But she forced a smile, trying—failing—to hide her growing embarrassment.

Roman glanced down at her reaction, amusement flickering beneath his calm expression.

"Good morning, Lisa," Julie said quickly as they entered the dining room.

Her voice was polite but slightly breathless from the teasing.

Roman, ever the gentleman despite the mischief in his eyes, stepped behind her and pulled out the chair.

Julie sat down gracefully, smoothing her dress as she settled in.

Roman pushed the chair in gently before taking his seat beside her.

Lisa, who had been watching the two with a bright, affectionate smile, finally answered.

"Good morning, my dear," she said warmly. Her eyes softened with genuine fondness—so much that Julie’s embarrassment eased a little.

Julie turned her head and added politely, "Good morning, Denovan."

This time, Denovan responded with a smile that reached his eyes. "Good morning, Julie. Good morning, Roman," he said, nodding in greeting.

The moment the greetings settled, the maids stepped forward swiftly—silent, well–trained movements as they placed steaming dishes before Julie and Roman.

The light clatter of plates mingled with the soft hum of the morning air, filling the room with a comfortable warmth.

Roman relaxed slightly in his chair, casting a small glance toward Julie as though checking one last time that she was truly alright.

Julie kept her hands folded neatly on her lap, still feeling the echo of embarrassment but also an inexplicable warmth at being welcomed so openly.

"We were waiting for you since earlier," Denovan said, his voice carrying a gentle teasing lilt.

He set down his fork and folded his hands together on the table.

"But knowing the... state you were in, we decided to go ahead and eat our breakfast."

Julie’s cheeks warmed instantly. She ducked her head slightly, strands of her hair slipping forward as she muttered her apology under her breath.

"I—I’m really sorry," she said, then raised her head a little, her eyes flicking between the older couple.

"Please accept our apology, beautiful Lisa... and handsome Denovan." She attempted a polite smile, though embarrassment still clung to the edges of her expression.

Lisa’s brows lifted, and she exchanged a silently amused glance with Denovan before the older man chuckled.

"Hey now, come on, little lovely granddaughter," Denovan said, waving a hand dismissively.

"There’s no need for you to apologize. We just know that you two are... hmm." His voice trailed off suggestively.

Roman paused midway through cutting his egg. His brow arched slowly.

"We two are... hmm, what?" he asked, tilting his head slightly, the movement controlled and sharp, though his tone remained calm.

Julie held her breath for a moment, her eyes darting in Denovan’s direction.

The older man leaned back slightly, a teasing smirk pulling at his lips.

"You two are newlyweds," Denovan said finally.

"Even though it’s been some months—" he gestured lightly with his fork, "—we know what happened, and we know the state Julie found you in yesterday. I hope everything is fine?" His voice softened at the end, a thread of genuine concern weaving through his words.

Julie’s heart thumped against her ribs.

She could feel Roman shift beside her, and the reassuring warmth of his presence steadied her even before he spoke.

Roman set down his knife gently, the soft clink barely audible.

He turned his face toward Denovan, but his eyes drifted to Julie the moment after—as if instinctively drawn to her.

"Yes," he said, voice firm yet calm. "Everything is alright. And... it’s all thanks to her."

He didn’t look away from Julie when he said it.

Julie felt her breath hitch. Her face burned with a rush of heat that traveled from her cheeks all the way down her neck.

She lowered her gaze instantly, fingers curling slightly against the fabric of her dress.

If she could sink into the floor, she would have done it without hesitation.

Her heart felt too loud in her chest, too exposed.

Roman, unaware of how deeply his words struck her—or perhaps fully aware—continued to look at her with an expression that was soft, steady, and impossibly protective.

Julie swallowed, her voice trapped somewhere tight inside her.

She shifted slightly in her seat, desperately hoping her reaction wasn’t visible to everyone at the table.

But before Julie could gather herself, Lisa’s voice cut in sharply—yet still filled with affection.

"Yes, it’s thanks to her," Lisa said, nodding toward Julie.

Then she turned her gaze on Roman, her brows drawing together in a rare expression of disapproval.

"But can’t you see you’re embarrassing my dear granddaughter?"

The glare she gave him was swift and unmistakable.

Roman actually froze.

His eyes widened the slightest bit, surprise flickering across his normally composed features.

It was brief, but impossible to miss—Roman Thompson, the immovable granite of the family, looked... stunned.

And Denovan? His fork slipped from his fingers and clattered against his plate. His jaw dropped so low it practically touched the table.

"I... am I seeing things?" Denovan asked, turning his head slowly, as though afraid blinking would break the strange moment.

Before anyone could answer, another voice drifted from the staircase.

"No, old grandpa, you’re not seeing things," Azazel called out lazily. His tone carried a blend of amusement and wicked delight.

"It’s true. Our beautiful Lisa successfully glared at her beloved grandson—for the first time ever."

He descended the stairs with deliberate slowness, his smirk widening as he approached the dining table.

His steps were light, almost theatrical, as though he had been waiting his whole life to witness this scene.

Roman’s expression darkened instantly.

"The story sharer—" he muttered under his breath, the insult barely audible but very much felt.

He shot a glance at Azazel, who only smiled wider, unbothered.

Azazel reached the table and slid into the empty seat beside Denovan, placing himself directly opposite Roman.

He crossed his arms comfortably over his chest, as though settling in for a show.

"Ahh, Roman’s ranking has finally been claimed by someone," Azazel announced triumphantly.

"Let’s have a toast for this great news. Sis, congratulations."

He lifted his cup of water with exaggerated formality, turning to Denovan with a mock-serious expression.

Denovan hesitated, then—eyes still wide from earlier—lifted his own glass to meet Azazel’s.

The two cups touched with a small, celebratory clink, echoing softly through the room.

Julie watched the entire exchange from the opposite side of the table. 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

Her hands were still folded neatly in her lap, and she couldn’t help but smile—though confusion clouded her eyes.

Her gaze drifted between Roman, Azazel, and the grandparents, trying to piece together what exactly had just unfolded.

She blinked at Azazel, silently asking the question her lips hadn’t formed.

"Sis... you’re confused, right?" Azazel asked, leaning forward slightly.

Julie nodded once, timid but honest. Her expression was soft, questioning—an invitation for clarity.

Azazel grinned at her, the mischief in his eyes bright and unhidden. Then he shot a sideways look at Roman—slow, taunting, almost daring him to protest.

Roman leaned back slightly, jaw tight, eyes narrowing in warning. But he didn’t speak.

He simply watched his brother with a calm stiffness that made Azazel smirk even more.

"Well then," Azazel said, folding his hands together with dramatic flair, "let me share this past with you."

His gaze flicked again to Roman, who was already silently glaring at him.

And with that smirk still tugging at his lips, Azazel prepared to begin.