His Nanny Mate By Eve Above Story

Chapter 258 #Chapter 6: Intentions

Ella

“…Miss Morgan. Good evening.” As the words left the familiar man’s mouth, I felt a pang of unease. The empty top floor of the restaurant was eerily silent, amplifying my growing discomfort.

The smoky scent of the warm charcoal fire, the soft crackling of the wood, the distant clinking of silverware, everything seemed to halt as he muttered my name.

“Ella Morgan,” he repeated, his eyes flickering with uncertainty and something akin to regret. “You’re Ella Morgan?”

“Yes,” I answered slowly, my heart pounding. “You’re Mr. Barrett?” The man’s face almost seemed to blanch a little more. “Yes. Logan Barrett. There… is no other Ella Morgan around here, is there?”

I couldn’t help but give him a strange look. “No,” I replied, furrowing my brow. “I mean… I don’t think so, at least,”

I watched as he spun around, frustration etched on his face. He muttered something under his breath, the harsh undertone a stark contrast to the serene ambiance. My mind raced with a myriad of thoughts. “It’s him,” Ema said, bristling with excitement. “It’s our mate!”

“You think i don’t see that?” I responded,, resisting the urge to run right then and there. “Don’t get too excited, Ema. We’re not staying.”

I heard Ema’s distinctive growl inside of me. “I’m not excited,” she murmured. “Our last encounter left a bad taste in my mouth, too. He may be our mate, but I don’t trust him.”

“You called my boss specifically for me,” I said, taking a slow and tentative step forward. “Is there something wrong?”

“No. Of course not.” Logan straightened himself and turned back to face me, his expression guarded and polite. “Will you sit with me? I’d like to discuss the case.”

I was reluctant to work with this man. He seemed like a jerk in the car the other night, and of course there was the issue of the fact that we were fated mates.

appropriate,” I said, adjusting the strap of my purse on my shoulder. “There are plenty of excellent lawyers

stop me. There was almost something. frantic behind his eyes then. “Let’s just have dinner. I apologize for my

muscle in my body was screaming for me to run, but I felt obligated by

said. “You can tell him you’re

want to spend time with him,

just dinner. I knew nothing about the case, and maybe it would be appealing after all. Maybe it would be a

Hopefully.

inaudible sigh. “I’ll stay for dinner.” Logan’s face flashed with an undeniably handsome grin. “Thank you,” he murmured,

stiffen as I brushed past him and sat down, holding my breath against the assault of his overwhelming scent. When he sat across from me, I found myself staring awkwardly down at the tablecloth, just wishing that this could all

as fated mates pulsed between us, a constant reminder of our entwined destiny. His scent teased my senses, and I had to force myself to focus on the task at

began, but was quickly cut

dinner first,” Logan said, handing me a

little, but took the menu. It seemed as though this man was intent on having dinner with me before bringing up the case, and I decided to

I poured over the menu. Logan, who’d been quiet since

Ella?” His question hung in the air, a thin attempt to shift the evening into safer territory.

gourmet options on the menu: lobster, caviar, fresh oysters. All of the dishes had

the menu. “Steak and potatoes,” I said,

knitted together in slight confusion. “Ah, I

asked, cocking

“Well… no

You look like..”

I changed my outfit,” I narrowed my

soon his lips twitched into a half-smile. He seemed almost amused by

feeling the hunger pangs set in. Maybe dinner wouldn’t be so bad after all. As we ate, Logan seemed much more polite than the man who I had met the other night. I began to wonder

much different now. Our conversation flowed a bit more freely, although it continued to teeter between comfortable and painfully awkward given our…. history. No matter

the main course over and the dessert plates cleared away, I decided it was time to discuss the case once

“Well, Mr. Barrett-”

“Call me Logan.”

slowly, leaning back in his chair with an air of practiced comfort. “It’s a matter of land, really,” he began. “My tenant.

the table. “I own the building where Hector runs his business,” Logan explained. “He’s been falling behind on his rent for a while now. I let it slide, out of respect for our friendship. But I’ve come