I set our places at the corner of the table, so we’d be sitting beside each other. I lit two candles, the match hissing softly before the warm glow caught and pushed back the evening dim.
“Would you want wine?” I called toward the kitchen.
“Please,” his voice floated back, a warm rumble.
I took down two glasses. The delicate stems were cool and smooth against my fingers. The deep red of the wine caught the candlelight as I poured.
I turned from the set table and drifted back toward the kitchen. Liam was in his element, already deep in chef mode. On the other side of the large island, he had laid out his battlefield: lemons, asparagus, the blue box of rice, a precise line of pans and spoons at the ready.
I settled onto a stool at the counter, content to just watch from across the granite divide.
He moved with a quiet, intense focus, completely absorbed in his work, completely unaware of what he looked like with that dish towel slung over one shoulder and his sleeves rolled up.
I watched him for another minute. "Can I help you with anything?" I finally asked, my voice a little softer than I intended.
He glanced up, a quick, warm smile breaking his concentration. He motioned me over with a tilt of his head. "Actually, yeah. Feel like chopping the asparagus into one-inch pieces?"
I slid off the stool and rounded the island. As I stepped up next to him at the counter, he turned to face me. I was close enough to smell the clean, sharp scent of his soap from his shower, mingling with the earthy aroma of the vegetables. My heart hammered against my ribs.
What would it feel like to just close the last few inches? To touch my lips to his?
He leaned in a little, his gaze dropping to my mouth. I didn’t move. I couldn't.
I tilted my head. Just a fraction.
A loud, shrill, obnoxiously cheery ringtone shattered the silence.
We both froze.
He groaned, the moment snapping as he stepped back and pulled the phone from his pocket. "It's my sister's ringtone."
I blinked, the spell broken, suddenly aware of how close our lips were.
“Take it,” I said, a little too fast.
He was still staring at me. Then he smiled, like he couldn’t quite believe what almost happened either.
“I should probably tell her she has terrible timing.”
I rolled my eyes. “Go. Answer it.”
He walked toward the balcony, still grinning.
And I stood there, alone, next to the asparagus and the cutting board wondering what would’ve happened if she’d called thirty seconds later.
Liam answered the phone with a groan and a half-smile.
“Hey,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “You have impeccable timing.”
A beat of silence.
“Yeah,” he said, as he looked over at me. “I was about to kiss Claire.”
My stomach flipped.
No more wondering what would’ve happened. I set the knife down.
His eyes flicked down to my mouth before he added, quieter, “And I think she was going to kiss me back.”
