Chapter 135
Chapter 135:
After changing into comfortable clothes, she saw Austin step out of the kitchen carrying a steaming dish.
“Smells incredible,” she said with a smile, her tone lighter.
Though their unexpected encounter at the racetrack still lingered in her chest, seeing him here—in this familiar, domestic space—eased some of her unease.
Austin set the dish on the table and took a seat across from her. “Fresh from the stove. Best eaten while it’s hot p>
𝘉е 𝘵𝗁e fi𝘳ѕ𝘵 𝘁o 𝗋eаd o𝗻
He served her a rib and added, “I know you like sweet, so I added extra sugar p>
Looking down at the glossy rib on her plate, warmth spread through Brinley’s chest. Austin usually preferred lighter flavors and rarely made sweet dishes. This one was clearly for her.
“Thanks,” Brinley murmured, lowering her head as she took a careful bite.
The meal went on in silence, the soft clink of cutlery the only sound between them.
Brinley deliberately avoided racing, instead recounting amusing incidents from the construction site. When she mentioned the supervisor blowing up again over the workers slacking, Austin chuckled under his breath.
“Is the asphalt work moving smoothly?” he asked suddenly, ladling soup into her bowl.
“Yes. The hardness tests passed; we can mark the track lines next week.” She took a sip of the soup before adding, “When will the imported guardrail samples arrive? I’d like to run some checks myself p>
“They should land tomorrow. I’ll let you know once they’re in.” Austin nodded. His gaze lingered on the slight curve of her lips before he shifted topics. “I stopped by a private racetrack this afternoon. Met a racer worth noting p>
Brinley froze for an instant, then masked her surprise with feigned interest. “Oh? What kind of racer p>
“Wore a rose-patterned helmet,” Austin said casually, sipping his soup, his eyes fixed on her. “Drove a red car. The modifications were clever p>
Brinley worked to keep her expression neutral. “A rose-patterned helmet? That’s unusual. Were they better than you p>
“Hard to judge,” Austin replied, setting his spoon down. “Straight-line speed was average, but the cornering was bold—almost reckless p>
“Sounds professional enough,” Brinley said, forcing herself not to flinch. “But I don’t know much about racing p>
“Is that so?” Austin chuckled softly, a glint of amusement flickering in his eyes. He didn’t press further. Instead, he added another serving to her plate. “This one’s tender. You’ll like it p>
Brinley stared at the food before her, lost in thought.
Austin was like a hunter. He had his prey in sight, but instead of striking, he circled patiently, tightening the trap.
The subtle pressure of his probing was far more unnerving than an open confrontation.
She set her cutlery down, leaned forward slightly, and with a sudden laugh, teased, “You seem to remember that racer’s car awfully well. Tell me, Austin, are you interested in the one wearing the rose-patterned helmet p>