Becoming Luna: My Triplet Alphas

Chapter 3: Talking, walking and causing trouble

We chatted lightly on the way to Stuart’s, discussing mundane but oddly engaging topics like the weather, the necessity of wearing helmets on bicycles, and the frustration that is parking in the city. His relaxed demeanor made the conversation flow naturally, and before I knew it, the nervous tension I had felt earlier had completely dissipated. It was easy, effortless even, and I found myself enjoying his company more with each passing minute.

When we arrived at Stuart’s, he pulled into the small parking lot connected to the restaurant. The lot was nearly full, but he expertly maneuvered the sleek SUV into a space near the entrance. Without hesitation, he exited the car, circled around to my side, and opened the door for me. His hand was warm and steady as he helped me out, and then he gently placed his other hand on the small of my back, guiding me toward the entrance.

My heels made me just tall enough to reach below his broad shoulders, and while I usually preferred not to wear anything too high, the added height helped me feel a little less diminutive next to him. Still, walking beside Jaxon felt like I was being escorted by a bodyguard—his presence exuded a quiet strength that made me feel safe in a way I hadn’t anticipated.

He opened the door for me again, allowing me to step inside first. Stuart’s was bustling with activity, the lively hum of conversations blending with the soft clinking of silverware against plates. The restaurant had a cozy yet upscale charm. The brown brick walls added warmth, while the crisp white tablecloths and elegant chairs gave the space a touch of sophistication. Massive windows lined the front of the restaurant, letting in streams of natural light that illuminated the room beautifully. Each table had a small mason jar with strings of fairy lights tucked inside, creating a whimsical contrast to the more formal salt and pepper shakers beside them.

“Hi, welcome to Stuart’s,” a cheerful waitress greeted us as we stepped inside. Her name tag read Stacey, and she smiled brightly, exuding the kind of energy that seemed almost rehearsed. “I’m Stacey, your hostess for this morning. Have you made a reservation?”

“Yes,” Jaxon replied, his deep voice taking on a tone of authority. “Hawthorne, party of two.”

Stacey flipped through her reservation book, her customer-service smile widening as she found our name. “Perfect! I have Jaxon Hawthorne, party of two, at ten o’clock,” she said. She glanced briefly toward the dining area before returning her gaze to us. “Your table is ready. Please follow me.”

We trailed behind Stacey as she weaved through the maze of tables. The restaurant was filled with people of all kinds—families with young children, groups of friends laughing over coffee, and couples sharing quiet moments. When we reached our table, she placed two menus down with a practiced flourish and assured us that a waiter would be over shortly.

Jaxon pulled out my chair for me, his actions so smooth and natural that I felt like I’d stepped into an old movie. I murmured a quiet thank-you as I sat down, and he took the seat across from me.

“Hawthorne?” I asked after a moment, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. “As in Hawthorne Mall?”

His brows furrowed slightly as he looked down at the table, but he answered without hesitation. “Yes, as in Hawthorne Mall.” His caramel-colored eyes met mine, searching for a reaction.

“My niece loves the train rides there,” I said with a smile, hoping to ease any discomfort he might have felt.

Relief—or something like it—flickered across his face. “She does? How old is she?” he asked, his tone softening.

“Almost two,” I replied, my smile widening. I picked up the menu, though I hardly needed it. I already knew what I wanted. Stuart’s brunch buffet was legendary, and their hot chocolate was a non-negotiable must-have.

After convincing Jaxon to give the buffet a try, I recommended the hot chocolate with such enthusiasm that he couldn’t refuse. When our waiter, Troy, came to take our orders, we quickly finalized our drinks and made our way to the buffet.

The buffet was a feast for the senses. The aroma of freshly baked pastries mingled with the savory scent of sizzling bacon and scrambled eggs. I grabbed one of the heated plates and took a moment to survey the options. My plate ended up being a mix of indulgence and practicality: two fluffy pancakes, a fried egg, crispy bacon, juicy sausages, a small container of yogurt, and a colorful scoop of fruit salad. I promised myself I’d come back for a pastry if I still had room later.

Throughout the buffet line, I noticed Jaxon stealing glances at me. Each time I caught his eye, he flashed a grin that sent a warm flush to my cheeks. By the time I returned to our table and placed my napkin in my lap, I was silently praying that I wouldn’t embarrass myself during the meal.

Jaxon returned shortly after, and I couldn’t help but glance at his plate. It looked comically small in his large hands, but the mountain of food he had piled onto it was impressive—bacon, sausages, scrambled eggs, toast, and what looked like a drizzle of hollandaise sauce over the top. He caught my surprised expression and chuckled.

“It smells delicious,” he said, his smile turning slightly sheepish.

“It really is,” I replied with an encouraging smile of my own. “Cheers.” I lifted my steaming cup of hot chocolate.

“Cheers,” he echoed, gently clinking his mug against mine before taking a sip.

“So,” he began, picking up his cutlery, “you’ve mentioned a niece and a sister.” He offered a soft smile before taking a bite of his food.

“Yes,” I replied, smiling back as I picked up my own cutlery. “Willow is my older sister. She’s twenty-six, married, has a kid, and lives in a very nice little townhouse.” He smiled politely at me, chewing his first bite.

“Rose, my niece, is two—she’s talking, walking, and causing all kinds of trouble,” I added with a grin. “I love her; she’s amazing.”

I cut into a piece of sausage and continued, “I’ve got a little brother as well, Bastien. He’s nineteen, in college, and still causing trouble.”

“As little brothers do,” Jaxon said with a knowing smile, spearing a piece of bacon with his fork.

“You have brothers too?” I asked, intrigued.

“I do—both brothers and sisters,” he said, dabbing his mouth with a napkin in a way so casual yet captivating that I found myself momentarily breathless. I wasn’t sure what it was about the gesture, but it left me wondering how someone could make even that look charming. “I’m the oldest of a flock of seven.”

“Seven?!” The word flew out of my mouth before I could stop it. My brain had instantly conjured the image of seven towering figures like him, and I struggled to wrap my head around it. The sheer thought of his poor mother giving birth to seven children of his size was mind-boggling.

He chuckled, a low, rich sound that made my cheeks flush. “My mom always wanted a big family, and my dad wanted nothing more than to make that wish come true.”

“Of course,” I said dryly, arching an eyebrow. “He didn’t have to do much besides enjoy the process.”

Jaxon laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Fair enough,” he admitted. “But I think he did his part in other ways too. I’ve got two younger brothers and four younger sisters. The oldest of them, Melissa, just had her first baby.”

“Congratulations,” I said sincerely, smiling at the thought of a tiny addition to such a large family.

“Thank you,” he replied with a grin that lit up his face. “Now my mom has a new obsession—she’s got full-blown baby fever again.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, I know the feeling. My mom has had it for two years now. She keeps dropping not-so-subtle hints about wanting another grandchild.”

“That’s comforting,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Although, I have to admit, it’s a little terrifying. Every time I visit, she asks if I’ve found her a daughter-in-law yet.”

I laughed again, the sound bubbling out of me uncontrollably. “I think that’s just what moms do. I'm lucky, though—my little brother Bastien just started dating, so all her matchmaking energy is directed at him for now.”

“Lucky you, indeed,” he said, his grin widening.

The conversation flowed easily after that, our words interwoven with laughter and the occasional pause to savor the food. He told me about his family’s business empire, which extended far beyond Hawthorne Mall. His family owned several bars, a grocery store, and even a restaurant. He explained how he and his two younger brothers split the responsibilities, each taking on different aspects of the business. His voice carried an unmistakable note of pride when he spoke about his family, and I found it endearing.

I shared my own aspirations and struggles with him, explaining my love for history and my uncertainty about pursuing a teaching career. It felt surprisingly natural to open up to him about my dreams and frustrations, as if we’d known each other for much longer than just one date. I also told him about Lainey, my best friend who worked as a photographer. I confessed how much I secretly loved modeling for her, though I had never really admitted it out loud before.

At one point, I couldn’t resist heading back to the buffet for one of the pastries I had been eyeing earlier. Meanwhile, Jaxon returned with not one, but two more plates piled high with food. I couldn’t help but marvel at his appetite, wondering where on earth he managed to put it all.

We also indulged in more hot chocolate—each sip as rich and heavenly as the last. When he told me he was more of a movie watcher than a book reader, I playfully teased him about missing out. He countered by proposing a deal: he would read a book if I agreed to go on a hike with him. I accepted the challenge, laughing at the thought of myself trudging up a mountain while he effortlessly led the way.

The entire experience felt like a dream. It was lighthearted and fun, with just the right balance of banter and deeper conversations. As far as first dates went, it was simply perfect. Time seemed to bend and blur, the hours slipping by far too quickly.

Before I knew it, we were back at my apartment. The sky had begun to shift into shades of soft gold and pink, signaling the close of the afternoon. Jaxon, ever the gentleman, opened the car door for me and walked me to my front door. The short stroll up the steps felt momentous, as if the day wasn’t quite ready to let us part ways.

“I had a really good time,” I said, turning to face him on the steps leading up to the front door. The smile on my face was genuine, though my heart was pounding in my chest.

“So did I,” he replied, his caramel-colored eyes meeting mine. There was a warmth in his gaze that made my stomach flutter.

As we both instinctively reached out, our hands met, his fingers wrapping around mine. His hand was warm—comfortably so—not damp or clammy, just steady and reassuring. It was the kind of warmth that felt safe, like an anchor.

“I’m really glad you went for a walk yesterday,” I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

“And I’m glad you forgot your tote bag,” he replied with a smile. The sunlight seemed to catch his features at just the right angle, accentuating the golden flecks in his eyes. He looked every bit as stunning as he had that morning, his effortless charm undiminished by time.

“Maybe next time, we could go somewhere where you’ll have to save me again,” I teased, trying to ignore the heat rising to my cheeks. “You know, all knight-in-shining-armor style.”

“Next time?” he asked, his brow quirking up in mock surprise, though his grin betrayed his amusement.

My face flushed deeper. “I mean, only if you want to,” I stammered, suddenly self-conscious. “It’s totally—”

“Nothing would make me happier, Stella,” he said, cutting me off gently. His voice was rich with sincerity, and the intensity in his gaze made my breath hitch.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. My eyes darted to his lips, their fullness drawing my attention. I wondered if they were as soft as they looked. He seemed to notice, his thumb absently tracing a circle over the back of my hand. When his eyes flicked to my lips, I instinctively licked them, hoping they didn’t look dry or unappealing.

“Would it be alright if I kissed you?” he asked, his voice dropping to a soft, resonant murmur that sent shivers down my spine.

“Yes,” I whispered, the word barely audible over the rapid thudding of my heart.

His other hand came up to gently cradle my cheek, his thumb brushing over my skin with featherlight tenderness. He leaned down slowly, his movements deliberate and cautious, as if he feared breaking me. When his lips finally met mine, they were as soft as I had imagined, yet firm enough to make me lose myself entirely in the moment.