Steaks

Standing in front of Mia’s apartment door, Beau’s stomach was in knots. He felt like a high schooler, picking up a pretty girl for their first date, not like a thirty-three-year-old billionaire waiting for a woman he’d been dating for weeks to come to the door. His palms were sweaty, and he was pretty sure any sort of pungent odor would send whatever was left in his stomach from a late lunch spewing all over the dismal carpet in the hallway.

When she came to the door, looking as gorgeous as ever in an emerald green dress, her hair up and the necklace he’d given her draped around her elegant neck, his breath caught in his throat. “Hi.” Mia arched an eyebrow at him waiting for him to respond to her greeting.

Beau took a deep breath. “Hi. You look… amazing.”

“Thanks.” Her eyes dropped to the bouquet of antique roses in various shades of pinks, reds, and whites, in his hand and then flittered back up to his eyes. “Are those for me?”

“Oh, yeah. Of course.” He thrust them at her a little to