Deacon’s eyes met mine and he laughed, warm and throaty.
The sound made my heart skip a beat. The light in his eyes when he looked at me shot a thrill through me that felt a lot like love.
The realization that I might actually love him made my dinner hard to swallow. Ro’s foot nudged mine and it prompted me to try again.
“You okay, Win?” she asked.
I sipped my water, cleared my throat, and nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
The look she gave me told me she saw straight through me.
Between her smug smile and Deacon making my heart happy, I didn’t dare make eye contact with either of them. It was hard enough to eat while trying not to grin like a lunatic.
“Leave the dishes,” she said, giving me a fond, all-knowing smile. “Go on,” she said, nodding to the living room.
I checked the clock. “Oh, Deacon, your show is about to start.”
I foundAntiques Roadshowon TV and we sat on the sofa, not touching, but almost. I looked down at the space between us, barely an inch. “Is this okay?”
He swallowed hard, and not meeting my eyes, he nodded. “Yes.”
I was ridiculously giddy. Ugh. It was surreal that I should feel like this.
Had I been in love before?
Sure.
Well, what Ithoughtwas love.
This surpassed any of that. This was different somehow.
“Eighteenth century,” Deacon said. “French, £500.”
Oh, the show . . .
“Ummm,” I hedged. “I have no clue about clocks... German, £1,000.”
It was eighteenth century, French, and worth £500.
“You’re so good at this,” I said.
He beamed.
The next item was a painting by a Scottish artist I’d never heard of. “£2,000,” Deacon said.
“£500,” I guessed.
It was £2,000.
He guessed the next one too.
“Hey,” I said, nudging him. “Have you seen this before?”
He blushed.
“Oh my god, you totally have!”
Deacon laughed, his cheeks bright red, and he nodded. “Yes.”
