Skyler's grandmother was a renowned musician, and thanks to her influence, he'd been a musical theater buff practically since birth. Now, as he lounged in the passenger seat, he played his favorite Broadway soundtrack—*Romeo and Juliet*.
The soaring vocals filled the car, and Gordon, rubbing his chest with fatigue, grimaced. "Can you put something else on? This is giving me a headache."
Maybe it was just his age, but Gordon couldn't appreciate the magic of musicals.
"Uncle, you really don't get art at all!" Skyler huffed, but obligingly switched the music on his phone to something more modern and mellow.
Suddenly, a ringtone cut through the air.
Gordon kept one hand on the wheel as he answered the call. "Hey, sis."
He barely got the words out before Alaina interrupted him. "Catie and her friend are here. Get over here and don't dawdle!"
Gordon's initial protest died on his lips. His tone flipped from reluctant to eager. "Okay, I'll be there in a minute."
Skyler, sitting shotgun, had heard the whole exchange and grinned mischievously. "Uncle, you keep claiming you're not into Boss Caitlin, but the second Mom says she's there, you do a total one-eighty!"
Gordon's lips thinned as he explained, "She saved my life. It's only right to have dinner with her. Don't go reading romance into everything."
Honestly, as if the world revolved around romance.
"You sure your feelings for Boss Caitlin are just gratitude?" Skyler squinted at him.
Gordon shot him a look. "Absolutely. Nothing more."
He was a staunch bachelor, after all.
**
About ten minutes later, Gordon arrived at the restaurant.
The moment he stepped inside, his commanding presence turned heads. He seemed less like someone's brother and more like a king out of legend—regal, magnetic, almost intimidating.
Celeste had expected Alaina's little brother to be some ordinary guy, but the reality was overwhelming; she found herself unable to meet his gaze.
"Hey, sis."
Alaina waved him over. "Come here, sit with me."
Gordon slid into the seat next to her, his aura casting a palpable tension across the table. Celeste was grateful he sat across from Caitlin instead of herself—otherwise, she might have fainted from nerves.
She sneaked a glance at Caitlin, only to find her perfectly at ease, without even a hint of anxiety.
It was handmade, not overly sweet, with a subtle buttery aroma—surprisingly delicious.
Before he knew it, he'd eaten two and was reaching for a third when Caitlin's hand darted out at the same time.
She wasn't looking his way, and instead of grabbing the shortbread, her hand landed right on top of his—and to make matters worse, she gave it a gentle squeeze.
Gordon's hands were always a bit cool, while her palm was warm, the contrast sending a jolt through both of them—a tingling spark that raced up their arms.
Both froze in surprise.
Caitlin looked up, startled, meeting Gordon's equally wide-eyed stare.
For a moment, their gazes locked.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Their hearts pounded, as if a summer storm were battering the windows, filling the room with a sudden, inexplicable heat.
Caitlin quickly pulled her hand back. "Sorry about that."

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