Not Your Usual Taste

Zara's face blossomed with a smile — one she herself couldn't explain — as she looked out the window, drinking in the view outside.

The car glided down the gentle slope of the hill, weaving past quiet bends and sleepy trees. It had been an hour-long drive from the city's outskirts before it finally rolled to a stop in front of a small restaurant. Though unassuming at first glance, the place exuded warmth — wrapped in soft greenery and glowing dim lights, it looked like the kind of place that invited deep conversations and lingering meals beneath the open night sky.

As her gaze landed on the restaurant, another smile tugged at Zara's lips, this one softer — content.

Ethan's eyes, previously fixed on the road, drifted toward her. The sight of her smiling — so freely — brought a warmth to his chest. Just as Zara reached for the car door handle, his hand gently pulled hers back. Startled, she turned toward him with a raised brow, silently questioning him.

Ethan chuckled under his breath, voice low and amused. "Be seated," he said as he stepped out of the car and began walking around the front.

Watching him, Zara couldn't help the warmth spreading inside her. Without realizing it, a smile bloomed again on her face, slower this time — deeper.

Ethan reached her door and opened it with a quiet, deliberate gesture. Then, with old-world charm, he offered his hand.

Zara looked at the hand stretched before her, raising her gaze to Ethan with mild amusement sparkling in her eyes. Still, without a word, she placed her hand in his.

The moment her fingers touched his palm, a flicker of emotion crossed Ethan's face. Something stirred in him — something long buried — and with it came a smile, soft and full of a feeling he couldn't quite name.

Just then, Marcus stepped out of his car and was met with this tableau. As he approached them, he put on a dramatic flair, his voice carrying mischief.

"Someone's love-struck here," he teased, fanning himself with exaggerated flair. He turned to the woman beside him. "Lia, come. If you stand here any longer, this love-filled air might get to you too."

Zara took a playful step toward Marcus, her lips curled in a smile. But before she could take another, the hand that had been holding hers tugged her back. She gasped, staggering slightly, only to land gently against a strong chest. The tug vanished the moment her back met his torso, but before she could react, a hand slid around her waist, holding her steady — holding her close.

Her breath caught.

The warmth of that touch, the proximity, the stillness of the moment — it was unmistakable. She didn't even have to turn around.

Still, she tilted her head upward, confirming what she already knew.

Amber eyes met hers, glinting with amusement.

"The air's only affected because of her," Ethan said coolly, gaze still locked on hers. "So, there's no need to leave."

Then, with the barest tilt of his head, he shifted his attention to Marcus — wearing a calm, cold face as if nothing about the way he was holding her was even slightly out of the ordinary.

Marcus blinked, his jaw slack at the sight of Ethan's unusually public display of affection. "At least behave when you're outside, Ethan," he muttered, shaking his head helplessly.

Ethan released her waist but kept her hand in his. Without responding, he walked past Marcus toward the restaurant, dragging Zara along as if the conversation had never happened.

Zara cast a glance over her shoulder at Marcus, who remained rooted in place, stunned, looking at them both. Still wordless, she grabbed his arm and tugged him along as well.

Caught off guard by the sudden pull, Marcus stumbled a bit, barely regaining balance as he was dragged into the restaurant after them.

Inside, the place wasn't grand or lavish — far from the elite restaurants Ethan and Marcus usually frequented — but there was something about the space. The cozy setup, the scent of home-cooked food, the quiet chatter — it exuded a comforting, genuine vibe.

Marcus looked around, then turned to Zara. "Lia, do you want to eat inside or head to the backyard?"

Zara paused for a moment before replying, "Let's go to the backyard."

"Alright, let's go," Marcus nodded and signaled to the nearest waiter. "Backyard seating."

"Please," the waiter gestured politely for them to follow.

As expected from a modest restaurant, there were no private rooms — just scattered seating both indoors and out. But the backyard was lit with soft fairy lights, and the ambiance was almost magical.

Zara glanced around with a raised brow, taking in the setup. Then, turning to Marcus, she said curiously, "This place doesn't really seem like your taste."

She watched him closely, as if expecting something amusing to unravel.

Marcus caught her look, then turned his head toward Ethan, whose expression clearly broadcasted that he was thoroughly entertained.

Feigning offense, Marcus replied in a joking tone, "What are you talking about, Lia? I just wanted to help small restaurants grow." Then, with a falsely sweet smile, he added, "You know how kind-hearted I am."

Zara gave him a look — slowly turning her head with a raised brow, clearly unimpressed — then shifted her gaze to Ethan.

Ethan smirked and shook his head. "You really thought you could fool Lia with that?"

Marcus shot him a glare and kicked under the table. Ethan only tilted his head with a mildly amused expression.

Not satisfied, Marcus kicked again. Then again.

Suddenly, Zara's calm voice cut in, slightly irritated. "Marcus, you're hitting me under the table."

Ethan's face shifted immediately. With zero hesitation, he pushed Marcus's chair with his leg. The force sent it tilting.

Marcus, who had still been caught off guard by what Zara had said, didn't realize he was about to fall until it was too late.

He braced himself, fully expecting to hit the ground hard — only to find himself suspended mid-fall. A firm grip had steadied his chair.

Breathing out a relieved sigh, he muttered in his usual cold-but-thankful tone, "Thank you for your help." He straightened the chair and got up, turning to see who had caught him.

But the moment his eyes met the person's face, Marcus froze — completely still, rooted to the ground.

Ethan, meanwhile, wasn't interested in the stunned faces or dramatic moments around him. He turned back to Zara, concern softening his expression.

"Lia," he said gently, "show me your leg."

"It's nothing," she replied without looking at him. Her attention was still on Marcus, whose stunned expression hadn't changed. She had seen the stranger who'd helped him — and something about the way Marcus reacted made her feel like something unexpected was happening.

But Ethan didn't budge. He wasn't paying attention to anyone else.

Even as Zara protested, he moved closer, gently guiding her to face him, his focus solely on her leg. Zara blinked and looked down, finding Ethan now crouched beside her, carefully inspecting her calf for bruises — his hand ghosting over her skin, the worry etched plainly on his face.