His gaze drops to my mouth.
And stays there.
I swear, the world stops spinning.
He leans in a little. Just enough to make my breath catch. Just enough to make my fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, steadying myself even though I’m no longer falling.
I could kiss him right now.
Iwantto kiss him right now.
And for one breathless second, I think he’s going to do it.
But then he blinks.
Pulls back a fraction.
And clears his throat like it physically pains him to break the moment.
“Better get you inside,” he says, voice rougher now.
He shifts the umbrella, adjusting it to keep me dry again, even though his shoulder is taking most of the rain.
I nod and curse the thunder in my chest as we walk the rest of the way to the door.
“Thanks for a lovely date,” I say.
He dips his head, saying nothing. And when his gaze goes to my mouth, I feel myself leaning in.
“See you tomorrow, Olive,” he says. “Don’t forget my cobbler.”
I let out a small laugh and let myself into the building. By the time I walk through the side door, I’m barely breathing. My heart is still thundering from the almost kiss. His hand on my waist, the way his eyes lingered on my lips, how close his mouth had gotten to mine. The air between us had shifted. I know he felt it, too.
And then he pulled back.
Of course he did.
Why wouldn’t he? We’re just friends. Nothing more.
I kick off my wet boots, slipping into the warmth of Lura’s kitchen. Even though it’s late, I know she’s still up. She’ll either be cleaning or prepping for the morning rush. It smells like cinnamon and the tail end of whatever game-night snacks the ladies devoured. The diner is still and most of the lights are already off.
But that doesn’t stop Lura.
She’s sitting at the kitchen table, mug in hand, bathrobe on, looking every bit the judgmental queen she is.
“Well,” she says, not even looking up from her crossword. “That was a long ride home. You tell that Liam Stone he ought to watch the weather so he’s not driving in a rainstorm?”
I freeze mid-step. “Lura…”
She finally lifts her gaze, and her eyes sparkle. “Don’t ‘Lura’ me. You’ve got that dazed ‘a man looked at me like I’m made of moonlight’ expression.”
“I do not.”
She sips her tea like she’s seen the entirety of my soul. “If you’d leaned forward an inch, would you be kissing him right now or figuring out where his pants landed?”
“Lura!”
She cackles. “I’m old, not dead. Now go change before you melt into the floor.”
