A/N:
Hey guys, so this is a longer chapter compared to my other long chapters lol.

But I hope you guys still enjoy it!

xoxo

************

I've just come to terms that I did Claire a disgrace when she squeezes a hand past Owen to grab mine.

"Come in dear! I apologize for my grandson, he's awkward around girls, especially ones as pretty as you."

"Oh... Uh..." I'm lost for words and mechanically step forward as she pulls me through the door. This seems to jerk Owen into motion and he moves aside to allow me passage.

When I walk past him, my shoulder barely grazes his chest, but my brain zeroes in on that spot, as if only the receptors there are functioning.

Then, it's like my nerve endings catch fire, heating up my body. I increase my pace to get away from him like my tail is on fire.

I need a proper explanation of this bizarre situation because I feel like my head is about to be cleaved open from trying to make sense of it myself.

I hear the door shut behind us as Claire and I enter the dining area where some home-cooked dishes are spread out on the table.

She gestures for me to take a seat on her left as she takes hers at the head of the table. Without Owen's presence, my heart rate has somewhat returned to normal, but Claire impatiently calls out to him.

"Boy! Hurry up and bring Noah over. The food is getting cold!" Then she turns to me with a delightful smile on her beautifully aged face. "Cyra dear, I can't wait for you to officially meet my grandson! You saw him at the door! He's quite handsome right?"

Handsome he is.

How can he still look like a model even in casual T-shirt and jeans?!

A tiny fake laugh tumbles out of my lips and I squint my eyes into half circles to cover up my nervousness.

"Now don't be surprised, but he has a three-year-old son." She takes on a solemn tone but lightens it when she perceives my silence as shock. "Don't worry dear, he's not married and is very much open to dating!"

Is Claire trying to set her grandson up with me?!

Is that why she told me to wear something nice!?

"He's moving permanently to Marysville. Great news isn't it? I can finally spend more time with my dear grandson." A look of despair flickers in her eyes but it fades quickly.

I bob my head up and down, processing the information as best as I can without cussing to relief my shock.

I recall the few times she talked about her grandson over the years.

To be honest, there was a time when I was interested in meeting him, but Claire said he hardly visited.

Then I went off to college and met Duncan, completely forgetting about it and only occasionally reminded about his existence when I visited Claire and she talked about him.

"I've always wanted you to meet my grandson!"

"Actually... Claire, we've-"

Owen and Noah enter the kitchen just then. The latter's eyes brighten with pleasant surprise when he sees me.

"Aunt Cee!!!" He squeals in joy and bounds towards me, arms flung wide and those little feet slapping against the kitchen tiles rapidly.

I automatically shift in my seat to catch his little body with my arms, a smile already making its way onto my face.

"Little beanieeeeee."

"Aunt Cee! Are you here to see little beanie?" His big green eyes shimmer with elation and my lips move of their own will.

"Why of course I came to see you! Because I missed you soooooo much!"

"Cyra, you know my great-grandson?" Claire watches Noah and my interaction with mild shock.

"Well, I actually know your grandson too. I was about to tell you that." I place Noah on my lap and glance up at Claire and Owen, who is leaning against the kitchen counter watching us.

"Oh! Really?! How did you meet?" Claire perks up and asks jovially, switching her gaze between Owen and I.

My stomach lurches when I think that Owen might mention the diner. I haven't told Claire about it yet and I don't want her to hear it from a third party because I'm scared of what she might think. But to my relief, he remains silent.

We share a look; me signalling with my eyes not to mention the diner, and he...

What does that look mean?

Seems like he's warning me not to say something.

Could it be... he didn't tell Claire about the incident on Thursday night?

"Well?" Claire continues looking at the two of us, waiting for her curiosity to be quelled, but we're both at a lost.

I rack through my brain for a safe answer when someone beats me to it.

"Daddy and aunt Cee met at a place called Jones' Diner." Noah answers instead and I drop my gaze to look at him in wonder.

He just saved Owen and I big time and he probably doesn't even know it!

"Yes! Yes! We met at the diner!" I quickly add on.

I mean, it's not a lie.

The first time was outside the diner, and the second time was inside the diner.

"Yes. That's the place. I forgot the name of the diner. Noah has a good memory." Owen joins in to complete the circle of truth mixed with lies.

"Oh! That makes sense. The Jones' Diner is the most popular diner in town and Cyra is doing such a good job at handling it." Claire slides her hand along the table to caress mine. "Your grandmother would be so proud of you, dear."

And the guilt sets in.

"Anyway, I'm so happy you've both met! It must be fate!"

There's that word again.

"Owen boy, come on and sit down already!"

Owen pushes off the counter and pulls out a chair opposite me and I hold my breath.

No, no, no. Not opposite me!

How am I going to eat without choking when his beautiful face is right in front!?

But then he calls Noah over and I release my held breath. "Noah, come sit here. Aunt Cee can't eat properly like that."

Noah shakes his head and pouts. "I don't wanna!"

"Noah, be thoughtful of aunt Cee."

"I said I don't wanna sit there, but I didn't say I was gonna sit on aunt Cee's lap! I'm always thoughtful of aunt Cee!" He harrumphs and jumps off my lap, rounding my chair to the one beside me. "I'll sit beside aunt Cee!"

He breaks into a smile at me with his dimples on full display.

"Oh my! I've never heard Noah boy say so many words in one go!" Claire gasps in wonder as I help Noah into the chair.

Owen purses his lips at Noah but doesn't say anything. Then, he sits in the chair he pulled out for Noah, right where I did not want him to be.

"Alright let's eat! Help yourselves! There's plenty for everyone." Claire gets busy piling my plate with dishes and I accidentally make eye contact with Owen.

He's staring so intensely I'm afraid I'd just disintegrate into fine dust. He looks like he wants to say something but at last sinks his gaze down on his plate.

I also busy myself by placing food on Noah's plate, being as attentive as I can to the little beanie.

"Eat up, Cyra. Don't be shy!"

"Thank you, Claire." I plunge my fork into my food and eat as sophisticatedly as I can.

Over the whole seemingly laid-back meal, Owen and my gazes keep finding each others', like we're some sort of secret lovers weaving a dance with our eyes.

Secret lovers?!

Snap out of it, Cyra!

A blush creeps up my neck to my cheeks, which would definitely be a start contrast against my pale skin. I chew my food rather forcibly as I focus all my attention on my plate, imagining Owen is an ugly troll.

It's not working though.

A simple lunch has never felt like it lasted an eternity.

************

We've finally finished lunch.

"So, children." Claire's authoritative tone has the three of us looking towards her. "I have a proposal to make."

Where is this going?

"Now that the introductions have been made, you both can get right to it!"

"Get right to what?" We both ask in unison.

"Dating, my dears!"

Owen coughs lightly while I choke on my own saliva. We both share a gaze.

Claire's eyes twinkle with barely contained anticipation as she clasps her hands together and continues talking.

"You're both so compatible! You'd make such a beautiful couple! Owen hasn't had much luck with women."

I highly doubt that.

"But the three of you get along so well! I'm convinced you're the one, Cyra!"

"Great-grandma, what's dating?" Noah is cocking his head with his fringe falling into his eyes.

"It's a secret between grown-ups. Your father will tell you when you're older." She effectively pushes the responsibility to Owen and I catch him pouting slightly at Claire.

And isn't that the most adorable thing ever!?!

No, no, no!

Not adorable. NO!

"Now, why not two of you go take a walk outside? It's good for digestion." Claire winks not-so-subtly at her grandson, who winces slightly.

What? Does taking a walk with me sound so bad?! My inner self spits out indignantly.

Well, it's not like I wanna walk with him either! She crosses her arms and I mentally shush her.

I'm just about to help Owen and I out of this sticky situation but to my horror, he agrees with Claire's suggestion.

"Sure, grams."

I eye him doubtfully. Just a second ago he looked like he'd rather walk with a ghost than me.

"Great! Alright you two have fun! Come now Noah, let's leave your father and aunt Cee alone." She picks up Noah's tiny hand but he pouts sadly.

"But I wanna go for a walk with aunt Cee too! I need to digest too great-grandma!"

My mouth twitches at Noah's innocent words, but I'm beginning to notice that he's a rather smart boy for his age.

"Noah, be a good boy. You can walk with aunt Cee another time." Owen squats to give his son a meaningful look.

I guess they have some kind of father-son telepathy because Noah obediently nods even though he's not too pleased.

Claire then shoos us out her door and shuts it behind us. Once we're alone, it's quiet for awhile until Owen speaks.

"So uhh... the weather's nice today."

I snort at his feeble attempt at making conversation. His lips are now lifting upwards too and he rubs his neck lightly.

"A weather comment? Really?" I can hardly contain my laugh and it seems to rub off on him too when his smile broadens.

"Sorry, I'm bad at this. Shall we?" He gestures at the walkway and I nod.

We stroll along the sidewalk, but I don't notice anything else because my attention is completely diverted to the very inconspicuous males beside me.

My shoulders are a good few inches lower than his and it's such a strangely comforting feeling that I don't know what to make of it.

Our proximity really messes with my head, causing my heart to hammer against my ribcage like it wants to jump right into his hands and stay there forever.

No. This is wrong.

I suck in a deep breath and look at my sneaker-clad feet to lock away my forbidden thoughts.

Owen once again breaks the silence. "So, why didn't you want my grandmother to know you're selling off the diner?"

I sigh and my shoulders cave in. I slow my steps and he matches my pace, glancing at me as I construct my answer.

"I don't know if you know, but my late grandmother and Claire were really close friends. The diner meant a lot to my grandmother, so I'm afraid of how Claire would react to me selling it off."

I turn my head to look at his side profile. "And I still can't believe you're Claire's grandson, and that you're buying the diner. But if I'm being honest, knowing you're the one buying it, I feel relieved."

"Why?" He briefly glances at me too as we continue walking.

"Well... you're Claire's grandson... It gives me a peace of mind knowing that the diner is going to someone whose grandmother was close to mine. It's not going to a complete stranger you know?"

"Hmm. Even though we just met, Cyra?" The sound of my name on his lips runs a chill down my spine in a good way. And his question sounds like he's fishing for something, but I answer him truthfully.

"Yes. Even though we just met." Then I drop the formalities too. "Owen."

It's not my first time saying his name, but it's my first time saying it to him. And it definitely feels different.

The butterflies in my stomach are proof.

I peek at him to see he's looking at the ground with a suppressed shy smile.

So we walk with smiles on our faces, admiring the copper-colored leafs fluttering on their respective branches in the slight breeze, hanging on as long as they can before they have no choice but to rain the streets in a splash of auburn in the coming weeks.

We've pivoted around to head back to Claire's house when I pique with a question of my own.

"So Owen, why are you buying the diner? Why are you even settling down here? I heard you live in the city with your parents? You look like you have a high position at a well known company too, even having your own PA."

He gives a half shrug, which actually carries more weight than a full one in my opinion.

"Yes, I used to live in the city with my parents. But I decided to move to a quieter place with my son. And Marysville is where my grandmother lives, so I figured it was perfect. Then I happened to see your post about selling off a diner in Marysville. I jumped at it without much thought I think it'd be nice to run a diner."

I laugh lightly even as I notice he skipped talking about his job.

"Are you serious? You decided to buy a diner because you thought 'it'd be nice'?" I make air quotes.

"Well, yeah. I wanted something to call my own, no emotional burdens holding me back, just doing it because I want to."

He sure sounds a lot like me, but he moved out of the city, whereas I want to move in to the city.

Even so, I feel like we're kindred spirits and it scares me, but excites me at the same time.

"And Claire has no idea you're buying a diner here?"

"I haven't told her. Well, I was going to tell her today but then you gave me the eye and I figured you didn't want me to say anything about it."

"I can say the same to you! You were practically shouting with your eyes not to mention a word about the assault."

"I didn't want her to worry unnecessarily." He laughs with embarrassment. "Since we're better acquainted now, may I ask why you want to sell off the diner business?"

"Better acquainted huh? Wow, I call your first name and now we're best friends?" I tease him but don't feel the need to hide it from him. "I'm going to move to Columbus. Permanently. I got a corporate-level job there and I'm starting in a couple of months."

"Oh, which company?"

"Zanders enterprise. You probably know it."

His eyes widen a little but he catches himself and schools his features into a smile.

I give him a sidelong glance but don't comment about his odd reaction.

Maybe he works there too?!

I want to ask him but he interrupts. "Won't you miss home? You grew up here right?"

I gnaw my lip to keep from letting slip about all the sufferings I've been through. "Yeah, maybe a little at first. But the diner won't pay for my sisters' education."

"How old is your sister?"

"Sisters as in two of them. They're twins and they're sixteen."

His jaw drops a little and his expression morphs into one of respect. "Sounds like you're the one holding the fort."

Boy, you have no idea.

"No one knows I'm selling the business though, not even my family. Only you. Oh and also Rayla." I say without thinking and his expression falls.

I can feel the tension radiating from him and that's when I remember about yesterday.

Oh. My. God.

Is it because he thinks I'm gay that's why he had that odd expression when Claire suggested we date?!

"I'll tell my grandmother we're not a match. Don't worry, I won't tell her about you and Rayla."

Yep, he definitely thinks I'm gay.

I'm debating whether I should clear up the misunderstanding when movement in my peripheral vision stops me.

A ball is flying directly for me and out of instinct, I fist my hand to block it from crashing into my face. It hits my wrist which has just started to heal up.

I yelp out a curse and clutch my wrist in pain.

"Shit! Are you okay?!"

It's the first time hearing Owen say something so ungentlemanly. And I like it. Because it's so out of character and I'm craving for that rough side of him which I'm sure is hidden somewhere within that smooth exterior.

I try to rotate my wrist but hiss as pain shoots through. I still manage a cocky grin though.

"I'm fine, Owen. I'm not a damsel in distress and you d-"

"Don't need to be a knight in shining armour. I know. I've heard." He finishes off my sentence and I laugh loudly.

A couple of young boys rush over to collect the ball a few feet away from us. One of them shouts an apology at his with a wince. I wave them away with a smile.

"Children. Such magical creatures." Owen sighs with wonderment. "I can't believe Noah would grow up one day and not be my little boy anymore."

The reluctance is crystal clear in his voice.

I feel like tiny needles are stabbing my heart, a hundred times worse than any pain I've ever felt.

Even when I was knocked down over and over again during Taekwondo sparring sessions.

Even when my parents or sisters threw insults at me.

Even when my grandmother passed.

Nothing can compare to the agony of knowing your child will never have the chance to even breathe a single breath...

And that you're the reason for that.

***********************************

We move quietly into the kitchen so as to not wake Claire and the little beanie who are dozing in the living room.

I stand awkwardly cradling my wrist, while Owen gets a bucket of ice from the freezer.

With his back turned, my eyes trail along his broad shoulders and narrow hips, admiring the sculpted muscles filling out his white T-shirt so enticingly.

He must hit the gym a lot - I think to myself.

He's all lean muscles and my mouth turns dry as I imagine my hands tracing the hard planes of his body, my face flushing hard at my wild imagination.

Get a grip, Cyra!

Right before he turns around, I quickly shift my gaze and pretend to be studying the very, very interesting material used to make the kitchen counter.

Out of the corner of my eye, I sense that Owen is eyeing me as he walks to the cabinet to get a carrier to pack the ice.

"What are you doing?"

"Hmm? Nothing! Nothing!" I twist away, still avoiding his eyes, to estimate the refrigerator's measurements in my head.

He cocks his head at me to have a better view at my face which is burning hot now.

"Why is your face so red?" He expertly prepares an ice pack on the countertop and shoots me an amused look but slightly concerned look.

"The weather is hot!"

Aww man, really!?

A weather comment Cyra?

I wish I could stick my head into the freezer now.

He shakes his head with a smile but doesn't call me out on my bullshit. I accept the ice pack from him and plop onto a stool to tend to my wrist.

He slides into the stool next to mine and I sit as straight as a rod. I missed the chance to clear the misunderstanding and I don't know why it's bothering me so much.

Just then, Claire walks in with a cellphone in her hand. "Owen boy, you left your phone behind and your PA called earlier. He said it was urgent."

Owen send me a cursory glance before grabbing his phone from Claire's hand and walking out of the kitchen.

Claire moves to sit beside me. "So how was the walk, dear?"

"Oh uhm... It was nice. The weather is great."

Sigh.

Claire chuckles and pinches my cheek. "I know you like him, Cyra."

I groan inwardly and wonder if one could die from embarrassment.

Just feed yourself to the fish, Cyra. That'd be a better way to die!

Her inquisitive eyes are drilling me for more details so I fling out something to keep her from asking anymore intimate questions.

"So what does Owen do for a living? I can't remember if you've told me before."

Her eyes shine with pride. "He doesn't really want people to know but you're not just anybody. So I'll tell you."

I lean in closer because anything about Owen is a juicy treat for me.

"He's been running the company his parents built ever since they passed."

I gasp in shock. His parents passed away?

Then doesn't that mean...

"My daughter, which is his mother, never visited after she married Owen's father. So I rarely got to see my grandson too. And then they both died in a tragic accident when Owen just graduated college. It was the same year your grandmother passed. I never told anyone about my daughter."

She trails off with sorrowful eyes and I place a hand on her weathered one, imagining what it must've felt like to lose two such important people in a single year. There must be a back story about why her daughter didn't visit, but I don't like prying.

She wipes the edges of her eyes and smiles weakly at me.

"Enough about sad stories! Our Owen is a very capable young man with a heart made of gold. He single-handedly took over the reigns at Zanders enterprise right after his parents' death. The boy has been through a lot."

Two words stand out like a sore thumb to me and I blink rapidly as though it has anything to do with my hearing abilities.

"I-I'm sorry. Did you say... Zanders enterprise?" I lean forward more to make sure my ears don't fail me.

"Why yes. Zanders enterprise is the company his parents built."

My eyes relocate to the kitchen entrance, where Owen is now standing with a grimace.

Owen is the CEO of Zanders enterprise.

It's like I'm yanked backwards by that shocking information.

So, I fall off the stool.

************

A/N:
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