The restaurant was a fancy place, one I would never have dreamed about setting a foot in.

Glancing down at my clothes, I feel a little underdressed.

I had a pair of jeans on, and a white blouse which was covered by my long black jacket.

When I stare at the entrance, hesitating, Steven glances at me, “Is something wrong?”

My voice comes out smaller than I had intended, “I thought we were going to some fast food place. Isn’t this a little –?”

When I feel a small hand curling around mine, I look down at Aaron who is beaming at me, missing tooth and all, “I like their chicken nuggets. I’ll share mine with you.”

I felt a tug at my heart strings and when Steven slips my other hand around his elbow, I feel surrounded by all sides and I give up.

The Maître d’ was a middle-aged man in a black suit and his hair slicked back.

“Mr. Tanner, welcome back! Hello, Master Aaron. May I take your coats?”

As Steven and Aaron shrug off their coats, I notice how warm the interior of the restaurant was. I also notice that he didn’t offer to take my jacket.

“Would you like your help to sit at a separate table?”

The low words reach my ears and I feel a flush of shame creep up on my face. I find myself staring at the floor, trying to get my feelings under control.

When Aaron tugs at my hand and looks up at me in a worried manner, I force my lips to curve.

“Miss Abby is my teacher!” Aaron scowls at the man, his tiny hand squeezing mine. Then he looks at his father, “Dad, I don’t want to eat here!”

The tantrum was artfully thrown by a child who was so well-grounded, that I found myself blinking. It seems that Steven’s son had picked up quite a few things from his father, including that arrogant air.

Steven just looks at the Maitre d’, a cold look in his eyes, “I do hope you weren’t referring to my guest.”

The man turns pale and immediately stammers out an apology.

Awkward, I just wave it away and when he offers to take my coat, I hand it to him.

We were ushered to a private dining area. I couldn’t hold on to my own embarrassment when I see the thinly veiled temper behind Steven’s eyes.

“You’re angry.” I mutter.

When he just frowns down at the menu handed to him, I kick him under the seat, and hiss, “Stop it. Aaron’s watching.”

He lifts his head up to look at his son, who was staring at him and he tries to smooth out his expression.

“I’m sorry for the scene right now,” He turns his gaze to me, and I shrug.

What did he expect me to say?

“It didn’t bother me,” I lie, shifting my eyes to the menu.

To my dismay, the items on the menu were too expensive for my budget, and I flip through the menu hoping to find something affordable. At this point, even I was hungry.

I bite my tongue when I see that even the salads were in the double digits.

Mentally, I calculate how much getting a simple salad would set me back on my Christmas shopping savings, and with a heavy heart, I decide on the cheapest one.

When the waiter arrives, Aaron orders a burger that was surprisingly very simple. When Steven looks at me, expectantly, my fingers tighten on the menu.

“The green beans salad.”

The waiter blinks at me when I put the menu aside, “Uh, what would you like for your main?”

Oh, dear God. Please don’t let this be a three-course meal, I pray internally.

I give a strained smile, “That’s it for me.”

If I saw the strange look that Steven sent my way, I ignored it.

“I’ll have number 5 for starters and number 27 for the main. She’ll have the same. Forget the salad.” Steven glances at me as I gape at him.

I wait for the waiter to leave, before digging my claws in, “What was that? Why did you order for me? I wasn’t hungry!”

Steven leans back in his chair, studying me, “You’ve been on your feet all day. You expect me to believe that you didn’t manage to work up any sort of appetite?”

I purse my lips, feeling my cheeks turn red at the subtle reprimand, “Yes, well. Maybe, I won’t like number 27.”

Steven throws his head back and laughs.

“You’re too adorable.”

I flush at his comment, not knowing whether that was his way of saying I was a simpleton or an actual compliment.

“Miss Abby, look!” Aaron tugs at my sweater, wanting to show me the origami he made with the napkin.

I grin, “Is that supposed to be a boat?”

When he beams at me, I quickly rearrange my own napkin into a hat and put it on his head, “Now, you’re the Captain.”

I take out my phone, “Hold your boat up.”

Gleefully, Aaron holds up the boat and I quickly snap his picture.

“I look funny!” He laughs when I show it to him.

Our heads are close together, and I tell him, “You know what? I have a friend who owns a huge printer. I’ll ask her to blow this picture up in black and white, and you can hang it in your room and we can call it ‘The Captain’.”

Just then, I glance up and see Steven watching me.

Aaron slides from his seat, “Bathroom!”

I watch him walk away and then turn my head to meet his father’s gaze, “What?”

Steven shrugs, “I’ve never seen Aaron like this. He doesn’t usually get along with the women in my life.”

I eye him, “I’m not a woman in your life, Mr. Tanner.”

“I plan to change that.”

I give him a terse smile, “Well, I don’t.”

When his lips curve, I cross my arms over my chest, “I’m not fascinated by your money, Mr. Tanner. I don’t plan to throw myself into your arms just because you own a garage full of Jaguars and you eat millions for breakfast.”

His smile broadens, mirth in those gray eyes, “I don’t eat millions for breakfast, every day.”

I narrow my eyes at him, “You’re not my type, Steven.”

His smile flickers, “And what exactly is your type, Abby?”

There was a dangerous edge to that silky tone.

My crossed arms tighten, defensively, “Quiet and unassuming.”

I don’t know where those words came from, but I regretted them immediately, when he cocks a brow, and scoffs, “You’re into boring men?”

I open my mouth, and I wonder who was controlling my filter, “I’m into men who wouldn’t trample on my heart. I’m not into casual flings. So, no, you’re not my type.”

“You’re very assuming for someone who doesn’t even know me,” Steven says, with a bite in his tone.

Oh, so did I managed to rile him up?

Good.

Satisfaction settled in the pit of my stomach, knowing that I had ruffled his calm and composed surface.

I just stare at him, “Name one thing you know about me.”

When he opens his mouth, I raise a finger, interrupting him, “Excluding the muffins.”

Steven gives me a smile that makes me narrow my eyes, “You are obsessed with your car, that you probably bought years ago, and you hold a lot of sentimental attachment to. I know you like reading murder mysteries, because there were three worn out paper backs in your dashboard. I know you like children, because I’ve seen you interact with Aaron, and there isn’t any patience in your interactions, but respect and affection. His opinion is important to you. I know you have a habit of tying your hair up because you’re trying to cover up your looks by adopting some serious librarian vibes. Unfortunately for you, you just make a man want to strip away that guise.”

My jaw hangs open, and he gives me a smug smile, “How was that?”

I struggle with my words, “So, you’re observant.”

Steven settles back in his seat, “You’re like a kitten who’s hissing at me because I’ve backed you into a corner. You’re scared of trying to let anything develop between us, because you are terrified of taking risks.”

His words echo the same words Scarlett had thrown at me this morning over breakfast, and I try to shrug them off, “Since when is watching out for myself a crime?”

He studies me, his tone wry, “Is that really what you’re doing? Because the farther you run, the more determined I am to have you. And I didn’t get where I am by giving up, Abby.”

My jaw grows taut, “And what exactly is it, that you want from me?”

His lips curve and just then Aaron heads back to the table, his hands still wet. He uses his napkin to dry his hands, and complains, “When will the food come? I’m hungry!”

I can feel Steven’s eyes on me, and I wonder how deeply entangled I was already in him. And how I would survive the climb back out.