Maya moved closer to Rege instinctively after his smile.
Not too close.
Just enough for the warmth surrounding him to brush against her skin again.
But the intensity inside his aquamarine eyes quickly became too much for her already unstable heartbeat, so she redirected her attention toward the feast spread beautifully before them instead.
And immediately brightened.
A ridiculously huge smile stretched across her face.
She looked exactly like someone discovering treasure.
Rege watched her quietly.
God.
He could spend entire lifetimes simply observing her expressions.
Maya rubbed her palms together excitedly like she was preparing to unveil something grand.
"I don't even know where to start," she admitted softly.
Then she bent slightly, intending to sit directly onto the flower-covered flooring beside the picnic arrangement.
But before she could fully lower herself—
Rege moved.
Within almost a second, his hands settled firmly around her waist before effortlessly lifting her upward.
Maya nearly squealed.
"You keep doing that!" she laughed breathlessly.
Rege ignored the way her body fit too perfectly inside his hands.
Ignored the warmth radiating through the oversized sweatshirt.
Ignored how dangerously easy it would be to keep holding her there.
Carefully, gently, he lowered her onto the soft flower bed positioned directly before the cream-colored tent.
Like she weighed nothing.
Like she was something delicate.
Maya stared up at him afterward with obvious surprise lingering across her face before smiling shyly and looking away toward the feast again.
And Rege's chest tightened immediately.
He sat beside her quietly while she focused entirely on everything arranged before them.
The morning breeze drifted softly across the rooftop while distant Manhattan traffic hummed faintly far below. Roses swayed gently around the rooftop edges, releasing their scent beautifully into the cool air.
Maya reached immediately for the transparent protective covering over the picnic arrangement.
Before she could fully remove it, Rege took it smoothly from her hands.
"Thank you," she murmured automatically.
He placed the glass covering carefully beside the tent before returning beside her again.
Maya inhaled deeply afterward.
Dramatically.
Like she was inhaling actual meals.
Then smiled brightly.
"I still can't believe you didn't just buy the entire flower shop," she said, laughing softly. "You also bought the entire bakery."
Rege looked at her quietly.
Almost blankly.
Like she had spoken another language entirely.
Maya blinked.
"What?"
A faint shake of his head.
Maya stared at him for a second before groaning.
"Oh my God."
Her laughter spilled out immediately afterward.
Rege's lips lifted faintly despite himself.
He only looked at her.
Which somehow made her laugh harder.
Then suddenly—
Maya paused.
Her eyes moved slowly toward the cakes.
Then back to him.
Then toward the smoothie.
And widened.
"Wait."
Rege already knew.
"Did you bake everything?" she asked, staring at him like she had discovered an entirely different person.
Silence.
A dangerous silence.
Maya gasped loudly and covered her mouth with both hands while laughing into them.
"No way."
"Only the cakes," Rege said quietly after a moment. "And the smoothie."
Maya continued staring at him in complete disbelief.
Maya lowered her hands slowly.
Still staring.
"Isn't that the same thing?" she asked incredulously.
A quiet chuckle escaped him.
"I never knew you knew how to bake," Maya continued enthusiastically.
Rege leaned back slightly against the pillows arranged beside the tent.
"I used to help my mother sometimes in the kitchen," he admitted softly. "She's an amazing cook."
Something inside Maya softened instantly.
The image of younger Rege standing quietly beside his mother in a kitchen felt strangely intimate.
Warm.
Human.
She looked at him carefully afterward.
Like she was seeing entirely new pieces of him unfold one by one.
"I think that's really sweet," she said honestly.
Then her smile returned again.
"Oh—and this is the most you've spoken in one sitting."
Rege raised a brow slightly.
"I hope you continue speaking today," Maya added brightly. "Exclusively for my ears."
The last words came dramatically.
Like some formal declaration.
Rege chuckled softly again.
God.
She genuinely loved hearing him laugh.
Maya immediately reached toward the vanilla cake afterward.
But before she could cut a piece herself, Rege gently took the knife from her hands.
"You're stealing my responsibilities," Maya complained but smiled.
Carefully, Rege sliced a piece onto a plate before holding it toward her.
Then paused.
Maya blinked.
And suddenly realized—
he wasn't handing her the plate.
He lifted the spoon toward her instead.
The intimacy of something so small startled her unexpectedly.
Still, she leaned forward slowly and parted her lips.
The moment the cake touched her tongue—
Maya moaned.
Out loud.
"Mmmm."
Her eyes closed instantly.
The soft vanilla melted beautifully while the sweetness balanced perfectly against the light cream.
Warm.
Rich.
Dangerously good.
"Mmmm," she repeated helplessly.
Beside her, Rege froze completely.
Every sound she made was doing deeply unreasonable things to him.
"This is perfection," Maya breathed while still chewing slowly like she genuinely needed time to emotionally process the taste. "This tastes illegal."
Rege's jaw tightened.
"It's like something directly from heaven."
Her eyes widened again.
"And you made this…"
That only seemed to emotionally destabilize her further.
Maya immediately took the plate from his hands before finishing the remaining cake within less than a minute.
Rege watched every expression crossing her face while silently struggling to maintain composure.
Because Maya enjoyed things wholeheartedly.
Completely.
Without restraint.
And somehow that made everything worse.
Especially when she licked a bit of cream from the corner of her lips absentmindedly.
Rege immediately looked away toward the skyline.
Dangerous woman.
Meanwhile Maya exhaled dramatically after finishing the final bite.
"Oh my God."
Quietly, Rege cut another slice onto the plate.
Then attempted feeding her again.
But Maya almost snatched the plate directly from his hands.
"I'm sorry," she laughed breathlessly. "I genuinely can't wait. It's too good."
Rege stared at her helplessly.
Maya dug into the cake shamelessly without the slightest bit of elegance.
And somehow—
that only made her more beautiful to him.
"This is literally the best cake I've ever had," she declared after another bite.
A bit of cream remained near the corner of her lips, and before Rege could stop himself, his gaze dropped there briefly.
God.
Maya licked the cream away absentmindedly before placing the plate down to catch her breath.
Meanwhile, Rege was holding onto restraint by threads.
Every sound she made.
Every expression.
Every soft moan of appreciation.
It was all affecting him far more than it should.
And the worst part—
she had absolutely no idea.
Still, despite the slow destruction of his self-control, he found himself absurdly satisfied watching her enjoy everything so wholeheartedly.
Rege poured apple juice carefully into a glass afterward before holding it toward her.
Maya drank obediently.
And somehow even that looked adorable.
Afterward she accepted a tissue from him.
"Thank you," she murmured softly while cleaning her lips.
Then she looked at him again.
"You should open a bakery."
"The world is genuinely missing out."
Her enthusiasm only intensified.
"Trust me. I have a golden tongue and a dangerous sweet tooth. If I say something tastes incredible, then it absolutely does."
Rege shook his head faintly.
"You could literally become some Michelin star chef."
Maya laughed brightly.
"You're wasting talent."
Then softer—
"The world deserves a taste of your many talents."
Something shifted subtly inside Rege afterward.
His gaze held hers steadily.
"This is only for you," he said quietly.
The sincerity beneath those words stole Maya's breath immediately.
Heat flooded into her face.
She looked down quickly afterward.
"Your wife will be one lucky woman," she whispered absentmindedly.
The moment the words left her mouth—
Maya internally panicked.
Oh God.
Why would she say that aloud?
She stared aggressively at the grapes afterward like they might somehow save her from embarrassment.
Meanwhile Rege heard every hidden meaning inside those words.
And wanted her eyes back on him immediately.
But he also recognized the growing embarrassment coloring her cheeks.
So instead of addressing it directly, he reached toward one of the pastries.
Maya reached simultaneously.
Their fingers brushed.
Both of them froze.
Electricity shot sharply through the contact.
Maya pulled her hand back instantly like she'd touched fire.
Rege's jaw tightened again.
She picked up the pastry carefully afterward before taking a bite.
Then paused.
Her expression changed immediately.
Rege noticed at once.
Maya chewed slowly.
Then accepted the tissue he silently held toward her before discreetly spitting the bite into it.
She looked genuinely betrayed.
"You've ruined pastries for me."
Rege blinked once.
"I'm serious," Maya insisted dramatically. "This used to be my favorite bakery in Manhattan."
Rege's shoulders shook faintly.
Maya pointed accusingly toward him.
"Now everything tastes disappointing compared to your cake."
That finally broke him.
Rege laughed.
Actually laughed.
Warm.
Deep.
Beautiful.
Maya immediately forgot whatever she had been saying.
Her eyes widened slightly.
Because this was different from his quiet chuckles.
This was genuine laughter.
Open.
Unrestrained.
And God.
It sounded incredible.
"Don't laugh at me," she protested weakly.
But she was already smiling too.
Rege looked impossibly relaxed while laughing softly beside her.
The morning light caught beautifully against his aquamarine eyes.
And Maya thought she could genuinely spend forever listening to that sound.
Then eventually she started laughing too.
"Fine," Maya declared dramatically through her laughter. "Then I'll simply have to petition your future wife to let you bake for me forever."
Rege's laughter faded slowly afterward.
But the faint smile remained lingering against his lips.
And while looking at Maya sitting beside him beneath the soft silver-gold morning sky— with her flushed cheeks from laughing too much, her messy bun slowly loosening in the wind, her bright expressive eyes, and the warmth of her presence wrapping around him so naturally—
something inside him shifted.
Dangerously.
Because for the first time in a very long time, Rege could actually picture a future clearly.
Not boardrooms.
Not contracts.
Not obligations.
Her.
Only her.
Maya laughing beside him on quiet mornings. Maya rambling endlessly while he listened. Maya stealing pieces of cake before they cooled properly. Maya's warmth filling spaces that had remained empty for years. Maya existing beside him so naturally that imagining life without her suddenly felt wrong.
And before caution could stop him—
before restraint could pull the words back—
Rege whispered quietly,
"What if you are my wife?"
The words settled between them softly.
But the effect was immediate.
Maya's breath caught.
Completely.
The wind still moved gently around the rooftop, carrying the scent of roses through the cool Manhattan air, but suddenly everything else felt distant to her.
Muted.
Her heartbeat became painfully loud inside her chest.
And Rege—
God.
Rege clenched his jaw almost instantly after hearing his own words aloud.
Because he had not meant to say that.
At least not yet.
But the terrifying thing was—
he meant every single word.
Maya stared at him silently.
Her lips parted slightly.
Heat rushed visibly into her cheeks while her fingers tightened faintly around the plate resting forgotten in her lap.
Neither of them moved.
The rooftop suddenly felt far too intimate.
Too quiet.
Too small for the emotions now pressing heavily between them.
Maya lowered her eyes for one brief second before unconsciously licking her lower lip slowly.
And Rege's gaze dropped immediately to her mouth.
His entire body tightened.
Because that simple movement nearly destroyed what remained of his self-control.
Her lips looked soft.
Too soft.
And for one dangerously weak moment, all Rege could think about was what they would feel like beneath his.
What Maya would taste like.
Whether she would sigh softly against his mouth the same way she did while eating his cake.
The thought hit him with such force he had to physically force his gaze upward again.
Barely.
Meanwhile Maya tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear shyly, though her fingers trembled faintly during the motion.
Her eyes slowly lifted back toward him afterward.
Bright.
So impossibly bright.
The soft morning light reflecting inside them made them almost blinding.
And Rege realized with alarming clarity that he was completely trapped inside them now.
There was no escaping this woman anymore.
Not emotionally.
Not mentally.
Not even physically when she looked at him like that.
Maya leaned slightly closer without realizing it herself.
Like something invisible was pulling her toward him.
Her lips parted again softly.
And Rege stopped thinking entirely.
Against every sensible instinct remaining inside him, he slowly lifted his hand toward her face.
Maya inhaled shakily the second his fingers brushed against her skin.
The contact felt devastatingly gentle.
Careful.
Almost reverent.
Rege tucked another loose strand of hair behind her ear slowly, his knuckles grazing softly along her cheek in the process.
Heat spread instantly beneath Maya's skin.
But he didn't pull away afterward.
Couldn't.
Because now that he was touching her—
actually touching her—
it felt impossible to stop.
His hand remained against her face while his thumb brushed lightly along the softness of her cheek.
Maya's breathing turned uneven immediately.
And without even realizing she was doing it, she leaned into his touch.
The movement nearly undid him.
Completely.
Rege's eyes darkened slightly as he watched her melt toward him unconsciously.
God.
She trusted him.
That realization hit harder than it should have.
Because Maya was leaning toward him so naturally now.
Like her body already recognized him as safety.
As comfort.
As somewhere she wanted to remain.
The morning breeze drifted softly around them while rose petals shifted gently across the rooftop floor nearby.
Somewhere far below, Manhattan continued moving endlessly.
Cars.
People.
Noise.
Life.
But none of it reached them anymore.
Everything felt suspended around this single moment.
Maya inhaled quietly again.
And his scent wrapped around her instantly.
Warm agarwood.
Musk.
Rain.
Something masculine and dangerously comforting beneath it all that now felt entirely and hopelessly Rege.
It clouded her thoughts embarrassingly fast.
Her head knew this was dangerous.
Knew she should create distance.
Knew this was crossing into territory she had spent weeks trying not to acknowledge.
But her body refused to cooperate.
Because all she wanted suddenly—
desperately—
was him.
His touch.
His warmth.
His lips.
She wanted to know what kissing Rege would feel like.
And the terrifying part was that she already knew she would never recover from it afterward.
Rege's hand slowly slid more fully against her cheek now, his thumb brushing faintly beneath her eye while his gaze searched hers intensely.
Like he was trying to read every emotion she wasn't speaking aloud.
Maya's heartbeat stumbled unevenly again.
And when Rege leaned slightly closer—
her breath caught entirely.
Their foreheads nearly brushed now.
Their breaths mingled softly between them.
Warm.
Uneven.
Intimate enough to make Maya dizzy.
Rege's gaze dropped to her lips again despite himself.
This time he didn't even try hiding it.
And Maya noticed.
The realization sent another wave of heat flooding through her body.
Because the way he was looking at her right now—
God.
No one had ever looked at her like that before.
Like restraint was physically hurting him.
Like he was trying very hard not to lose control.
Maya's fingers tightened unconsciously against the fabric of her sweatshirt.
Her lips parted slightly more.
And Rege nearly broke.
He wanted to kiss her.
Not carefully.
Not politely.
He wanted to pull her directly into him and finally discover whether her lips tasted as addictive as everything else about her already felt.
The thought alone made his jaw tighten sharply.
Because he knew once he kissed her—
there would be no returning from it.
No emotional distance afterward.
No pretending she didn't matter dangerously more than she should.
Maya looked up at him through lowered lashes slowly.
And the softness in her expression nearly destroyed what remained of his restraint.
Because she looked like she wanted him to kiss her too.
That realization made the tension between them shift instantly.
He could feel it.
The mutual pull.
The dangerous inevitability growing stronger every second they remained this close.
Rege's thumb brushed once more against her cheek gently.
Maya inhaled shakily again.
Then unconsciously tilted her face slightly closer into his hand.
A quiet sound escaped Rege's throat at the movement.
Almost like restraint physically pained him now.
"Krasota," he whispered softly.
The way he said her name—
low and rough and dangerously intimate—
sent chills straight down her spine.
She had never heard that name sound like that before.
Like something precious.
Like temptation.
Like a confession he was trying not to make.
Maya's eyes fluttered briefly before lifting back toward him again.
And somehow—
they moved even closer.
Their noses brushed faintly.
Both of them froze afterward.
The contact was tiny.
Barely anything.
But it still felt electric.
Maya's hand slowly lifted instinctively toward him before stopping uncertainly midway between them.
Rege immediately noticed.
His gaze dropped briefly toward her trembling fingers before returning to her eyes.
Then slowly—
carefully—
he took her hand into his.
The simple gesture nearly shattered her.
Because he held her hand so gently.
Like she was something fragile.
Something precious.
Rege brought her hand slowly upward until her fingertips rested lightly against his jaw.
Maya's breath left her instantly.
The rough warmth of his skin beneath her fingertips sent another wave of dizziness through her body.
And Rege closed his eyes briefly at the feeling of her touching him.
God.
He was losing this battle completely.
When his eyes opened again, they looked darker somehow.
Hungrier.
More vulnerable.
And Maya felt herself leaning closer without permission from her own mind.
Her breaths came softly now.
Unevenly.
Their lips hovered barely an inch apart.
One movement.
That was all it would take.
One small movement and everything between them would change forever.
But neither of them moved first.
Not yet.
Because despite the unbearable tension pulling them together—
despite the need growing stronger every second—
this moment still felt delicate somehow.
Fragile.
Like something sacred standing carefully at the edge of becoming irreversible.
And neither of them wanted to ruin it.
So they stayed there suspended beneath the cloudy Manhattan sky—
surrounded by roses, soft wind, and the scent of sugar and rain—
breathing the same air.
Holding each other's gaze.
Wanting.
Waiting.
Barely an inch apart from completely losing themselves in each other.