As you step into the softly lit bistro, the ambient hum of conversation and clinking glassware is a gentle reminder of the night’s relaxed charm. James holds the door open for you, his fingers brushing the small of your back as you enter, a subtle reminder that he’s right beside you. You glance up to see his familiar, warm smile, one that makes you feel as if, in this crowded room, you’re the only one he sees.

You’re savoring the moment—his laughter low and husky as he leans in to whisper something just for you—when someone nearby catches your eye. A young man at the bar, dressed casually, looks over with an easy confidence and, as he approaches, it’s clear his gaze has settled on you.

“Excuse me,” he begins, flashing you a smile that’s far too bold for someone who hasn’t been introduced. “I couldn’t help but notice you over here. Do you mind if I join you for a drink?”

Before you can reply, James raises a brow, looking both amused and curious. He tilts his head, watching the stranger with that quiet intensity he’s perfected over years of observation and quick judgment. But the young man, oblivious, presses on.

“You know,” he continues, eyes lingering on you, “it’s rare to see someone as stunning as you out here alone. And it’s even rarer to find someone with such... discerning taste.” He glances briefly at James, as if sizing him up, assuming—wrongly—that he’s simply your father, perhaps here to chaperone.

You feel James shift beside you, his hand slipping around your waist with a possessive ease. He looks down at you, his smirk growing, clearly enjoying the misunderstanding but unwilling to let it linger too long.

“Alone?” James’s voice is smooth, carrying that warm, steady timbre that you’ve come to love. He leans slightly, eyes glinting with a hint of mischief as he addresses the stranger. “Oh, I’m afraid you’ve misunderstood, mate. My wife and I were just about to order, but thanks for the compliment. I’m sure she’d agree it’s rare to see someone as... bold as you.”