The restaurant buzzed softly around you—muted conversations, the gentle clink of silverware, the occasional burst of laughter. But your world narrowed to just him: Matt.

Then his phone rang.

Matt glanced at the screen, his brow furrowing slightly. With a quick, apologetic glance your way, he answered. “This is Matt.”

You kept your expression neutral, sipping your drink, but a flicker of mischief danced behind your eyes.

“Sir,” the voice on the other end began, professional but tinged with concern, “we’re calling to verify two recent transactions. The first is for 216,000 dollars at Divine Floral Arrangements, and the second is 286,800 dollars online at La Cornue. If you cannot confirm or if you believe these are fraudulent, we’ll cancel them immediately.”

Matt’s brows shot up. His tone remained calm, though you could hear the edge of disbelief in his voice. “216,000… and 286,800 dollars?”

He turned to you, his eyes narrowing slightly, searching for an explanation.

You smirked.

In that instant, understanding dawned. The shift in his expression was subtle—his mouth twitched as though caught between a sigh and a grin, and his eyes softened with something akin to amused exasperation.

He shook his head slightly, lifting the phone back to his ear. “No, it’s not fraud,” he said, his tone resigned but laced with affection. “That’s just my future wife throwing a tantrum.”

You couldn’t hold back a small laugh, leaning forward just enough to catch the teasing look he shot your way.

“Go ahead and run the bills through,” he added before ending the call and setting his phone down on the table with a quiet clink.

There was a pause. He tilted his head, studying you, his eyes glinting with playful accusation. “Floral arrangements for over two hundred grand?”

He stared at you for a moment longer, then shook his head again, his grin widening. “You’re impossible,” he said, but there was no mistaking the affection in his voice.

And in that moment, as his laughter mingled with yours, you knew you had him. All of him.