Chapter 242: Chapter 242: His Wife’s Satisfied Smile
After making her wish, Wren placed the special seashell into her pocket.
An instant later, a warm embrace enveloped her.
Adrian’s breath brushed past her ear, his deep voice carrying a tenderness as gentle as the ocean waves.
"My wish is the same as yours."
Their hearts beat as one to the rhythm of the waves.
A smile as soft as the sunset clouds graced Wren’s lips.
They continued walking, hand in hand, fingers intertwined.
Their pace was slow, slow enough to feel the fine sand sifting between their toes.
At times, they watched the surf curl into transparent, lacy edges, then recede to leave a fleeting, mirror-like sheen upon the sand.
At other times, they would close their eyes and listen to the sound of the ocean.
Behind them, two parallel lines of footprints, some deep, some shallow, looked like a fleeting poem written on the sand.
The sky’s romantic, orange-pink hue deepened into a rich grape-purple.
A sliver of the moon and a few early-rising stars quietly emerged, like silver dust carelessly scattered across deep blue velvet.
In the distance, the lights of the resort villa switched on one by one. Their warm, yellow halos dotted the edge of the deep-blue canvas, creating a beautiful harmony between the signs of human life and the tranquility of nature.
After walking for some time, Wren’s calves began to ache, and she stopped.
Adrian noticed. "Tired?"
"Mhm. We’ve walked so far, I don’t want to walk anymore," Wren said, her voice laced with a languid dependence.
Adrian glanced around, then led her toward a higher dune of dry, soft sand.
The sand still held the lingering warmth of the day’s sun, a generous gift that soothed their skin through their light clothes.
They sat down side by side, their arms touching. Wren naturally leaned her head against Adrian’s sturdy shoulder.
The sea stretched out endlessly before them, its color shifting from a transparent, light blue near the shore to a deep indigo, finally merging with the dark-purple sky on the horizon.
The sound of the waves was clearer and more rhythmic now, like the steady breathing of a giant.
"It’s so quiet," Wren murmured, her voice so soft it seemed to dissolve into the sea breeze.
"It’s as if it’s just us and the sea in the whole world."
Everything else—the clamor of the city, the troubles of the past, the worries for the future—was shut out by the boundless blue and the constant white noise of the waves.
Adrian turned his head and gently nuzzled the top of her soft hair. "Do you like it?" he asked softly.
Wren nodded, snuggling closer into his embrace. "I love it. All the chaotic thoughts in my head have been scattered by the sea breeze and washed away by the waves. I’ve never felt so peaceful."
Adrian wrapped his arm around her, pulling her tighter into his embrace.
They said no more, simply sitting together in a quiet embrace.
They watched the last ray of the sunset give way to the deep blue of twilight.
They watched the stars awaken one by one, twinkling until they formed a brilliant river of silver that stretched across the heavens.
Time seemed to lose all meaning, leaving only the ebb and flow of the tide, the blinking of the stars, and the steady, reassuring warmth of their clasped hands.
...
Night had completely fallen.
The butler, Andreas, arrived on the beach with two assistants.
With practiced, efficient movements, they set up a barbecue grill and lit the charcoal.
A nearby long table was laden with fresh ingredients, just pulled from the sea.
The squid was translucent and glistening, its tentacles curled ever so slightly.
The large prawns were a grayish-blue with a hint of pink, their whiskers still twitching faintly.
Several types of sea fish had been immaculately cleaned, their scales shimmering faintly in the darkness.
Chicken marinated in olive oil and lemon juice had an alluring pale-gold hue.
An assortment of washed vegetables looked crisp and vibrant.
On a tray at the end were specialties of Santorini Island: cherry tomatoes as plump as rubies and crisp mini cucumbers.
Once the ingredients were prepared, Andreas gave a slight bow, his voice steady and respectful.
"Mr. Lancaster, Mrs. Lancaster, would you prefer that I handle everything, or would you like to experience the fun of grilling for yourselves?"
Wren’s gaze had already been flitting between the ingredients and the leaping flames of the charcoal. At his words, her eyes lit up with childlike excitement.
"We’ll do it ourselves," she said, her tone cheerful. "It’s bound to taste different when you grill it with your own hands."
After speaking, she turned to look at Adrian for his opinion.
"Honey, what do you think?"
A slight smile touched Adrian’s lips, his eyes full of nothing but indulgence and support.
"Whatever you want."
Then he turned to the butler. "We’d appreciate your guidance."
"It would be my honor." Andreas took a small step forward and began his detailed explanation.
From judging the temperature of the coals to the proper spacing for different ingredients on the grill.
From the best time to flip the squid rings for optimal texture to the secret for achieving crispy skin and tender flesh on the fish.
He even explained how many times to brush the chicken with marinade and how to grill vegetables without them drying out.
His instructions were clear and practical. Wren listened intently, nodding from time to time.
"I think I’ve got the hang of it, thank you," Wren said, full of confidence.
Andreas bowed gracefully again and prepared to withdraw.
"Please, enjoy yourselves. I will be over there, at your disposal."
He pointed to a seating area not far away, which had been set up with comfortable chairs and small lamps.
The distance was perfect—close enough to remain attentive to their needs, yet far enough not to intrude on the couple’s private time.
Adrian took the white linen apron an assistant handed him.
The crisp fabric of the apron complemented his casual, beige linen shirt and white trousers, adding a touch of domestic softness that diluted the formidable air he usually carried in the business world.
He picked up a pair of long metal tongs, his expression as focused as if he were handling an important document, and carefully placed the squid rings and skewered prawns on the ideal spot on the grill.
Meanwhile, Wren busied herself at the other end of the long table.
She washed her hands, picked up a sharp knife, and sliced the cherry tomatoes in half and the mini cucumbers into uniform, thin slices. Her movements were fluid.
Following the butler’s advice, she added olive oil, sea salt, and crushed dried oregano, then tossed it all gently. Just like that, a brightly colored, Greek-style salad with a fresh aroma was ready.
Next, in a white porcelain bowl, she carefully mixed yogurt, grated cucumber, minced garlic, and fresh mint leaves. Dipping a fingertip in to taste, she adjusted the proportions until she had a perfect serving of the local specialty: Tzatziki sauce.
The heat from the charcoal mingled with the aroma of the cooking food, rising in fragrant wisps. A timely sea breeze drifted by, gently spreading the enticing scent.
Tiny beads of sweat formed on Adrian’s temples. He watched the color of the prawn shells intently, flipping them at just the right moment.
Having finished with the side dishes, Wren walked over to him. Seeing his serious profile, she couldn’t help but chuckle and tease him.
"I never would have guessed that our busy President Lancaster could look like such a pro at the grill. Your technique is very professional."
Adrian looked up, the firelight dancing in his deep eyes, which were filled with unconcealed adoration.
"What choice did I have?" he said, his low voice tinged with a smile. "My wife wanted to eat this, so I had to unlock the skill. It seems I’m a natural."
As he spoke, he used the tongs to place several skewers of prawns—grilled to a perfect golden-red and sizzling with juices—onto a plate.
"Honey, quick, try one."
"Okay."
Wren eagerly picked one up with her bare hands, blew on it gently, peeled off the shell, and popped the tender white meat into her mouth.
The distinct, smoky aroma of the charcoal grill instantly filled her mouth, followed by the supreme sweetness and firm, springy texture of the prawn. The saltiness was just right, perfectly enhancing the prawn’s natural flavor.
"How is it?" Adrian asked, his voice full of anticipation.
Wren’s eyes instantly lit up as if they held the stars themselves.
She swallowed the prawn and gave Adrian a big thumbs-up, a smile spreading from her lips to her eyes.
"It’s amazing! Seriously, the flavor is incredible. This is the best barbecue I’ve ever had. Hands down."
Seeing her unconcealed satisfaction and praise, Adrian smiled happily.
A peculiar sense of satisfaction, far more profound than what he felt after closing a massive deal, welled up inside him.
In that moment, the sea breeze, the charcoal fire, and his wife’s contented smile were his entire world.
The calm and decisive Adrian Lancaster, the man who could move mountains in the business world, quietly receded. In his place was a man willing to cook for the woman he loved, a man whose happiness was a reflection of her own.
"If you like it, have some more." Adrian brought over several skewers of perfectly grilled squid rings.
"There’s more than enough. What else would you like? The fish is almost ready."
Facing the sea.
Inside a glass hurricane lamp, the candle flame danced lively in the deepening twilight, casting a soft glow on the fine china and their faces.
Adrian opened a bottle of perfectly chilled Assyrtiko white wine. Its crisp acidity and subtle mineral notes bloomed on the palate, a match made in heaven for the fresh seafood.
The squid rings were tender yet firm, with delicately charred edges.
The sea fish had crispy skin and succulent flesh that flaked away at the slightest touch, retaining all its natural, fresh flavor.
The marinated chicken was grilled to have a crispy skin while remaining juicy inside. When dipped in the Tzatziki sauce Wren had made herself—cool with cucumber and fresh mint—the layers of flavor became wonderfully complex and rich.
The sound of the waves provided a constant backdrop, the candlelight flickered, and the evening breeze was gentle.
Wren took a sip of wine, her face radiating pure happiness as she gazed at the brilliant stars where the sea met the sky.
"I always thought a candlelight dinner meant being in a high-end restaurant, wearing a formal gown..." she said softly, as if to herself.
"But now, I think this is the ultimate romance: being barefoot on the sand, listening to the waves, feeling the sea breeze, and eating smoky food straight from the fire."
Adrian gazed at her across the flickering candlelight. Her eyes were more intoxicating than the wine in his glass.
"The stars, the sea breeze, and you... that’s a special kind of romance no Michelin-starred restaurant could ever offer."
Wren set down her wine glass and leaned back comfortably in her chair, gazing up at the star-filled sky.
Suddenly, she mused aloud, "Fireworks right now would make this absolutely perfect."
