The Ruthless CEO's Revenge Wife-Chapter 211: The Cute Face

Back at the table, the atmosphere felt lighter than it had in days.

Martha was studying the dessert menu like it was a sacred text, while Hannah kept sneaking sidelong glances at Jean and Logan, her grin refusing to fade.

"I vote for the molten chocolate cake," Hannah announced, peering over Jean’s shoulder. "Jean needs something sweet after putting the entire board in their place."

"Agreed," Martha chimed in, a glint of pride in her eyes as she set down her menu. "Though I still say nothing’s sweeter than the look on Darla’s face the other day."

Jean laughed softly, though the sound came out a bit shy. "Martha, please..."

"Don’t ’Martha, please’ me," Martha scolded gently, but her smile was warm. "You did what needed to be done. And if it were up to me, you’d get a medal, not just dessert."

Across the table, Logan’s lips curved, his gaze flicking to Jean... the hint of pride in his eyes saying more than words.

When the desserts finally arrived, Jean tried to focus on her cake but her mind kept drifting to the rooftop, to the taste of Logan’s mouth still warm on her lips.

And judging by the way Logan kept silently tracing the rim of his glass, he wasn’t exactly thinking about chocolate either.

As spoons scraped plates and laughter filled the space, Jared cleared his throat, drawing all eyes to him.

"Before we wrap up tonight," he began, voice steady but teasing at the edges, "just a reminder to everyone... The yacht party is in two days."

Jean nodded politely, about to answer but Jared wasn’t done.

"So you two," he added, eyes twinkling as they landed on Logan and Jean, "should come... Well rested."

The words hung in the air for a moment.

Logan’s hand froze halfway to his water glass. Jean felt the tips of her ears heat instantly, her mouth parting in surprise.

"Dad..." Logan started, his voice suspiciously tight.

"Don’t look at me like that," Jared said, the corners of his mouth twitching. "I’m only thinking of Jean’s health... and your stamina."

Jean’s fork clinked against her plate, heat flooding her face.

"Father!" Logan’s voice dropped lower, equal parts exasperated and embarrassed.

Hannah nearly choked on her dessert, dissolving into giggles so infectious that even Martha had to hide a small laugh behind her napkin.

Jean dared a quick glance at Logan and for once, they both wore matching, helplessly flustered expressions.

Yet underneath the embarrassment, Jean felt something soft unfurl in her chest... this warmth, this family that could tease and laugh even after everything.

And Logan, his jaw clenched but eyes softer than they’d been all evening, reached under the table, his pinky brushing lightly against hers.

A silent promise.

Whatever the yacht party brought... they’d face it together.

_______________________

The restaurant door clicked shut behind them, the night air cool against Logan’s skin. Ahead, Jean walked slowly toward the car, her steps smaller than usual, exhaustion softening the proud line of her shoulders.

She tried to stifle a yawn but it came anyway, wide and utterly unguarded.

Logan caught it, and despite everything... the tension, the teasing at dinner, the swirl of thoughts still tugging at him... he couldn’t help it.

He smiled.

Not his practiced, careful smile. But the real one... the one that came out before he could stop it.

’She’s tired’. He thought, watching how her eyelashes fluttered when she blinked away sleep. ’But she still came tonight. Faced them all. Faced me. She is incredible with my family.’

The drive home was quiet; Jean curled against the window, the city lights flickering across her face. By the time they reached the gates, her head had tipped to the side, breaths slow and even.

She was already fast asleep. In that uncomfortable curled position.

Logan parked, cut the engine, and turned to her. A soft chuckle rumbled in his chest, surprising even him. ’She is so cute.’

Then he cringed at his own thoughts. "God, when did I start thinking she looked cute?"

Gently, he unbuckled her seatbelt. His hands moved carefully, afraid to wake her, afraid she’d see that look on his face he wasn’t ready to admit to yet.

She stirred in her sleep, lips parting but didn’t wake.

Logan stepped out, moved to her side, and with a quiet breath... he gathered her into his arms.

She felt smaller than she looked. Lighter too, though the stubborn strength that always clung to her still lingered in the way her fingers curled unconsciously against his shirt.

Inside, the house was silent... the staff long gone, the world finally was still for them.

Logan carried her upstairs, the slow weight of each step grounding him in a reality that felt oddly fragile. In their bedroom, he laid her gently on the bed, brushing a few strands of hair away from her face.

Jean murmured something, her brow furrowing slightly... as if, even in dreams, she feared he’d pull away.

Logan stood there, debating.

He could go. Sleep in the guest room, keep the line he’d drawn between them these past few nights. But then he thought about her leaning into his kiss on the rooftop.

About her whisper... ’I want you closer.’

About how, despite her hesitation towards him before their marriage, she’d dared to want.

’Maybe it’s my turn too’, he realized. ’To dare.’

With a quiet breath, Logan moved to the other side of the bed. He pulled off his watch, loosened his tie, and slipped under the covers.

For a moment, he stayed still, afraid to break the fragile peace.

Then, slowly, he let his hand rest on the mattress between them... not touching her, but close enough that if she reached out, she’d find him there.

As sleep finally tugged at him, Logan’s last thought wasn’t of the board or the yacht party, or even his own confusing feelings.

It was simply her. If she wants to be with him for real... he won’t deny it. Not anymore.

And for the first time in years, the darkness didn’t feel lonely.