Cost Of Warmth

For the rest of the evening, laughter spilled between them, soft and unrestrained, as the violinist played a tender tune in the background. Parker leaned back in his chair, his gaze occasionally drifting to Tessa's face. She was beaming, her happiness so genuine that it tugged at something deep inside him.

If he hadn't realized it before, he sure as hell did now—Tessa had given him something he hadn't felt in years: a sense of belonging.

He made a conscious effort not to zone out, though. This wasn't the time to get lost in his head, not tonight. He was here, with her, and he wanted to make every second count. Whatever thoughts tried to creep in, he shoved them aside, focusing instead on her radiant smile.

It was hard to ignore how much this all meant to her. The fancy restaurant, the private setup, the attention to detail—it wasn't like she couldn't have this every single day if she wanted. She was a billionaire's daughter, after all.