No Strings Attached novel (Clara and Ian) novel Chapter 283

He held Clara in his arms with a hint of helplessness, and his voice was tinged with reluctance. "I've got to head back and take care of a few things. I'll come check on you as soon as I'm done."

Clara gently rubbed his back, comforting him with a playful tone, "You're such a good boy, Mr. Hayes."

Ian's lips curled into a mischievous smile as he looked at her, "Don't tempt me, or I won't mind giving Grandpa Reed a show of how I kiss you."

Laughing, Clara dodged back playfully, tugging on his arm. "Grandpa Reed, he's got work to do. Let him go. Dad and I will stay here to take care of you."

Reed looked at Ian with eyes full of longing. "Go on with your tasks, young man. It's good for you to be busy."

After a few more words with Reed, Ian left the room with Clara.

The helicopter sat on an open stretch of land on the eastern edge of the village. Such a curious machine had attracted quite a crowd. Fortunately, the village lacked streetlights, and the dim glow of flashlights couldn't reveal Clara and Ian's faces.

Standing at the back of the crowd, Ian adjusted Clara's down jacket hood and whispered with care, "It's not as warm here as it is at home. Make sure to bundle up and pile on the blankets when you sleep. Don't catch a cold, got it?"

Clara nodded with a smile. "I know, don't worry. I used to stay here all the time as a kid. I'm well used to it."

Still, Ian tenderly caressed her cheek. "I'll sort things out as quickly as I can, then come see you."

He kissed Clara's lips reluctantly. "Sweetheart, try not to miss me too much."

Faced with such an exceptional and tender man, Clara felt a selfish urge to keep him there, but her better judgment held back the impulse.

Clara held the flashlight, gazing up at the retreating chopper, feeling a sudden emptiness inside her. She murmured to the sky, "Ian, will we always be this happy?"

The evening after Ian left, Clara went to the corner store alone to pick up some items for Reed. She instinctively glanced at the open space where she had parted with Ian two days earlier. As she kept looking in that direction, she thought she saw Ian's tall, prominent silhouette.

His profile was sharply defined by the moonlight, his back straight and his legs long. He stood there in black attire, like a deity stepped out of a comic book. His expression was forlorn with a touch of sadness.

Without a second thought, Clara ran towards him, her heartbeat racing. As she ran, she shouted, "Ian, when did you get here? Why didn't you tell me?"

But just as she was about to throw herself into the man's arms, she realized with a jolt that this person was not Ian at all.