Chapter 7 Chapter 7 No Toothpaste, Just You

Hearing that, a flicker of light flashed through Megan's eyes, though in her heart, she figured Tristan was probably just testing her.

She curved her lips into a smile and nuzzled into his firm, well-defined chest. "You decide, Tristan."

"Alright."

Megan looked up at him in surprise, not expecting him to agree so easily.

Tristan reached out and gently stroked her soft, fragrant hair. "Do you blame me for arranging your leave from school back then?"

In her past life, this man indulged her in everything, even willing to lay down his life for her.

How could she possibly blame him?

If only she hadn't listened to Molly's lies, thinking Tristan was twisted and dangerous, she wouldn't have run away from the wedding, wouldn't have ended up imprisoned.

It was her own fault for trusting the wrong people.

Reborn, she was going to make her enemies pay-but more importantly, she would love this man properly.

She gently tapped his straight nose with her pale fingertip. "If I hadn't run away, you wouldn't have needed to do all that. I was too quick to believe lies. That won't happen again. From now on, I'm staying right by your side. I'm not leaving."

Tristan gripped her hand tightly, his voice deadly serious: "Don't ever leave, Megan, if you left me-I'd die without you."

Hearing how intense he sounded, Megan raised her other hand to cover his mouth. "Relax,I won't leave. But let's deal with something more important right now-the Roasted Chicken, or you really will drop dead from hunger."

She gave a sweet smile, then turned to test the chicken's crispness with golden tongs.

Tristan lifted the sizzling roasting pan-Megan steadying it with oven mitts-as they carried the feast to the table.

Megan followed with lemon-wedge garnishes in hand.

She sat down, tossed lemons onto the platter, then pulled his reddened fingertips toward her lips. Cool breath fluttered over his oven-kissed knuckles as she pressed his palm to her cheek. "There, the heat's banished."

Tristan's chuckle vibrated against her ear. "That bird's teasing us. Time to devour it."

Their knees bumped beneath the table as they sank into plush velvet chairs.

He ripped off a glistening herb-crusted thigh, holding it near her mouth. Juice dripped onto his thumb. "Open wide, darling."

She retaliated by plucking a crackling skin shard from the breast, brushing it against his lips. "Payback's delicious."

Fingers slick with rosemary oil, they fed each other-tender meat, crispy skin, laughter sticky as honey-until the platter held nothing but bones gleaming under candlelight.

Tristan grabbed a napkin and gently wiped her lips. "This was hands-down the best meal I've ever had."

Megan tilted her head, a mischievous smile spreading on her face. "Then I want a reward."

"How about some shopping tomorrow, sound good?"

Even if they weren't completely free yet, it was still a nice start.

Megan gave a soft, cheerful "mm-hmm."

After their meal, Tristan held her hand as they strolled through the estate grounds.

"What's that over there?"

Following her pointing finger, a spark flashed in Tristan's eyes. "That's the surprise I mentioned for you."

"I want to see!"

She eagerly tugged at his hand, pulling him across the lawn toward a construction site in the distance.

"Make sure the steps are smooth, and the railing needs to be sanded down properly."

An older man in his sixties was giving orders to the workers.

Hearing footsteps, he turned around-and froze like he'd just been struck by lightning.

Unbelievable. That little troublemaker had actually made up with the young master.

He'd heard about it from Mrs. Jones earlier but hadn't quite bought it until now.So, it was real.

But she couldn't help suspecting-was this just another one of that drama queen's tricks?

Mr. Ford gave a respectful bow. "Young Master, Young Madam."

They weren't even officially married yet, but Tristan had already made it a rule-everyone in the house had to call Megan "Young Madam."

"You may rise, Mr. Ford."

Mr. Ford's mouth twitched. Was this girl even speaking human language?

Megan peeked downward and saw a sunken space carved neatly beneath the lawn.

She held Tristan's hand tightly as they walked down the steps. The construction workers quietly moved aside to make room, lining both sides like an impromptu guard of honor.

The space was empty for now-no clue what it was supposed to be.

"Seriously? What kind of 'surprise' needs this much work?" she asked.

Tristan looked around with a small smile tugging at his lips. "You'll see soon enough."

He suddenly scooped her into his arms, adjusted her position a bit, and said, "First things first-we've got something more urgent to handle."

Megan flushed instantly, cuddling up against his chest. Was he about to do something... *not safe for work*?

Her cheeks lit up with color.

Tristan carried her up the stairs toward the villa, his long legs steady and unhurried.

Watching them disappear, Mr. Ford muttered under his breath, "A leopard can't change its spots-watch, he'll pull some crazy stunt again.."

Warm, dim lighting filled the bedroom.

Tristan walked Megan into the bathroom and carefully set her down.

He picked up her toothbrush, squeezed out some toothpaste, and said with a grin, "Let me see those pearly whites."

Her heart melted a little. Was he really about to brush her teeth?

She bared her teeth and watched as he gently brushed them for her. Her whole soul was screaming *bliss overload*.

"Open up. Ahh!"

"Ahh-"

His clean, slender fingers worked the toothbrush with skill, reaching every corner. Then he handed her some rinse water and wiped the foam from her lips.

When she tried to squeeze some toothpaste for him, he stopped her.

"No need for you to lift a finger. I got this," he said.

She snatched the brush right back and squeezed the paste with a dramatic flair. "C'mon, open up. Fair's fair, right?"

Tristan just chuckled and let her do her thing.

Then he heard her say, in a soft mutter, "It's not like you've got horse teeth or something. I'll survive."

Tristan straightened up from his crouch, gargled quickly, then wiped the corners of his mouth with a towel.

"Megan," he said, eyes locked on her lips, "maybe you should stop talking altogether."

Noticing a shift in his tone, Megan gave a nervous little cough. "About all those things I said to you before... I take them all back, okay?"

Tristan narrowed his eyes with a sly glint and stepped in close. She instinctively backed away until her heels hit the wall.

He braced his arms on either side of her head, effectively caging her in. "Not just what you said before. That horse-mouth comment too."

Her eyes darted. Ah... so he did mind that little metaphor.

She chuckled awkwardly and gave in without a fight. "Alright, alright. I was wrong. I'll never joke about your mouth again."

"Too late," he murmured, eyes slipping to her lips again. "That mouth's better used for something else."

"Like what?" she blinked.

"Kissing."

Before she could react, his lips were already on hers.

In that moment, Tristan had never felt more content. With her in his arms, he walked them both out of the bathroom toward the bed.

They landed on it together, sinking into its softness like falling into a dream.