Mirabella was just about to ask where the light switch was when she felt a sudden, firm grip around her waist. Before she knew it, she was spun around and gently pressed against the door, taking in the familiar cedar scent of the man in front of her.
"Yeah, this is my place," James said in a deep, reassuring voice, answering Mirabella's earlier question.
In the dim light, his right hand found hers with ease, his fingers gently parting hers until they were intertwined. The room's temperature seemed to rise slightly, creating a cozy atmosphere. It wasn't until the doorbell rang, breaking the silence, that James slowly released her hand and flicked on the light switch.
The room flooded with light, chasing away the shadows. Mirabella's complexion warmed, her lips a deep, rosy red. The hat she wore added an extra touch of sweetness to her appearance. James couldn't help but lean down for another quick kiss before stepping aside. "Dinner's here," he announced.
At the door was Wyatt, there to deliver their meal. After waiting a bit without the door opening, he had been about to call when it finally swung open. He looked up, "James..."
His words faltered as he caught the coolness in James's eyes. Was James in a bad mood?
Wyatt felt a bit like he had walked in at the wrong time, sneaking a glance into the room. "Dinner," James said flatly.
"Oh, right..." Wyatt mumbled, snapping back to reality. He carefully handed over the food container he was holding.
James took it with a straight face and shut the door behind him. Wyatt pulled back his hand just in time, scratching his head in confusion. Had he done something to upset James today?
James, sitting across, casually placed a piece of steak on Mirabella's plate, his expression unreadable, though his eyes seemed a bit more intense if you looked closely.
After they finished eating, James suggested Mirabella relax in the living room. He didn't mention when he’d be taking her home, and she didn't press the issue. She curled up on the couch, turning on the TV.
Time flew by, and soon it was past nine. Mirabella found herself yawning, feeling drowsy. She turned off the TV, glanced around the room, but didn't see James. Curious, she got up.
James was in the study, talking on the phone, the door slightly open. Mirabella, in her cozy slippers, padded over and paused outside, listening to his voice without interrupting.
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