Author's Note: I spent a long time thinking about Owen's family and what they would be like. I hope you'll enjoy the end result. Thanks again for all your continued support!

"Every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back. Those who wish to sing always find a song. At the touch of a lover, everyone becomes a poet."

― Plato

She's completely overdressed.

Owen's childhood home is in the middle of a farming community, a few hours away from the city. From the horses grazing the in the field next to the house, to the wooden sign announcing that Owen's family lived here—everything screams rustic and homey and here she is, in a sparkly cocktail dress.

She's a fool.

As she waits on the porch of Owen's house, she can't help but feel horribly out of place. Fiddling with the edge of her dress, she suppresses a sigh and glances at the cream colored door.

"Claire?" Owen glances at her, his lips tilting upwards in a bemused smile. "Nervous?" He loves this—seeing her squirm—and she wonders if this is revenge for her teasing him on the airplane.

She wants to deny that she is, but before she can manage to say anything, Owen has reached for her hand. She stiffens at the touch as his warm hand grips hers, offering her some strength to ground her.

"Owen, I—" Her voice fades as his gaze locks onto hers.

"Claire, you'll be fine." He assures softly. "I—"

The door bursts open and Claire jerks back, startled.

"Owen!"

A matronly woman dressed in jeans and a flowing blue floral top embraces Owen, a dazzling grin alight on her peach lips. Her auburn hair is piled messily into a bun and as she releases Owen, her sea green eyes slide over to Claire. They widen ever so slightly as they take in her appearance and Claire ducks her head, embarrassed.

"And you must be Claire." The woman's voice is warm and gentle, like a wave hitting the shore and Claire finds herself lifting her head.

"Hi." She murmurs, waving her hand slightly. She then offers her hand to shake, but the woman shakes her head and then laughs, full and hearty.

"Oh, sweetheart, c'mere!" Claire is engulfed in a hug and the younger woman gasps, taken aback by the unexpected contact. "Oh, you are so gorgeous! Just like what Owen told me—"

"Mom!" Owen interjects sharply and Claire finds a grin of her own on her lips. "Would you let go of her? You're crushing her."

"Oh!" Owen's mom exclaims, releasing her immediately. "Sorry, dear." She places a warm hand on Claire's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, thank you." Claire replies, regaining her composure. She fixes her dress, and then glances at Owen, waiting to take a cue from him about what to do next.

"Well, come on inside!" Owen's mom winks at her, smiling so warmly and openly. Claire instantly feels at ease. Perhaps, maybe just perhaps, this night might work out after all.

And together, they all go inside.

Claire can't but feel like she's on display.

She's seated at the wooden table, plates piled high with various comfort foods and the room is bursting with chatter and raucous laughter. Still, through it all, she feels eyes boring onto her. Owen is not a single child and his older brother, his sister-in-law and his younger sister are all present at the dinner table. The family all shares Owen's beautiful emerald eyes, but his older brother, Christopher has chestnut hair and is slightly shorter and less muscular than Owen. Christopher's wife, Ava, has her crimson hair piled high in a bun and her own sea blue eyes are sparkling as she laughs. Owen's teen sister, Sarah, is clearly a fan of peach lipstick and white sparkly eye shadow, though it doesn't overwhelm her natural beauty. Her hair is bright red though, almost crimson. While Claire doubts that it's natural, it does look interesting.

And then, there's Owen. Owen, who seems so relaxed here, so at ease, as he leans back in the dining room chair and laughs the loudest out of all his siblings. She's never seen him like this—so alive, so passionate. Not even when he was working with his beloved dinosaurs was he so at peace. When he glances at her, Claire feels like she's the only on in the room, as if everyone else melts away.

"So," Sarah finally speaks up, taking a small bite of mashed potatoes. "Are you two together?"

She coughs on her water and he splutters.

"What?" She echoes softly, trying to catch her breath.

"Sarah, really—" Owen chides, stealing at glance at her.

"What?" Sarah raises her shoulders somewhat and sighs. "I mean, Owen's only been pining for her—"

"Sarah, come help me get dessert!" Owen's mother snaps, giving her daughter a meaningful glance.

"But Mama—" Sarah protests, but Owen's mother is having none of it.

"Come along, Sarah."

Sighing dramatically, Sarah rises from her chair and disappears into the kitchen with her mother.

"So, Claire," Ava grins widely, though it reminds Claire of the Cheshire Cat. "I'm surprised that Owen is letting you stay with him. He's usually so protective of that apartment of his." She chuckles. "I mean, sorry, what do you call it, Owen? Your man cave—?"

"Owen has been very kind." Claire interjects with a soft smile.

"Oh, I'm sure." Christopher laughs, voice boisterous. He takes a swig of his beer and Owen ducks his head sheepishly.

"Would you quit it, Chris?" Owen hisses, much like a petulant child and Claire can't help but chuckle a little.

"How long do you think you'll be in town?" Ava questions.

"I'm not really sure." Claire confesses, as she pushes her steak around on her plate. "After everything that happened, I haven't really given it much thought."

"I see." Ava nods her head.

"Here we are!" Owen's mom exclaims, bringing a warm chocolate cake while Sarah brings in homemade vanilla ice cream. As she serves everyone, she grins when she serves Claire. "So? What are we talking about?"

"Nothing much." Owen mutters, running a hand through his hair.

Claire just chuckles.

"I'm sorry. Again." Owen winces as the two of them come into the living room of his apartment.

"No. It was actually kind of sweet." Claire replies, placing the huge portion of food Owen's mom had insisted that she take with them.

"Right. The third degree, totally fun." He chuckles and she can't help smiling in return.

"Your family cares for you." Claire runs her hand through her hair, tugging out some knots. "That's what matters."

"They care for you too." Owen practically whispers and her eyes widen somewhat. "I mean, because they think that we are—"

"A couple." She completes.

"Right." He finishes. "And we're . . ." His voice fades out.

"Not." She supplies.

"Right. Not."

An awkward silence fills the every crevice of the room.

"Well, it's late and I'm—" She starts to turn to go to her room.

"Hey, Claire—" He grabs her hand and then drops it. "Sorry. I didn't mean—" He laughs somewhat nervously. "Ah, screw it."

And the next she knows, he's kissing her again, passionate and strong. She can feel the blood pounding through her ears and she finds herself responding to his touch. She could give in to this, to him, to being with him, but—

Her heart broke once before and it nearly killed her.

She breaks off the kiss, gasping.

"Owen," Her voice is ragged. "We can't."

He nods his head.

"Right. Of course. Stupid." He chuckles once more, but doesn't back away. "Good night."

"Good night."

She retreats to her room, closing the door behind her and forces herself to breathe.

What on Earth has she gotten herself into?

Author's Note: Next chapter, Owen and Claire go out on a date! Please review if you have a moment. Thanks!