“Water’s good,” I manage, trying not to focus on how my name sounds in his voice.
As Felix heads to the kitchen, Caspian pats the spot next to him on the couch. “Join me?”
I settle beside him, careful to leave enough space between us, though every part of me wants to lean closer. “So that’s your new friend, Felix.”
CHAPTER 14
CASPIAN
“Yes. He’s really nice, isn’t he? His girls are adorable.”
“They seem so,” he replies, and I detect something in his voice.
“So…” I lean in slightly, lowering my voice. “What will it take to convince you to take a commission from me? Or is it only sparkly-dress-tutu-wearing little girls you work for?”
His eyes dart to mine, and I watch his throat work as he swallows. “I could be convinced. Do you own a tutu?”
I tilt my head so my lips are close to his ear. “I do, actually.”
His Adam’s apple bobs.
“I’d love to see your workshop sometime,” I press on, fully aware of how suggestive that sounds. It’s probably cruel of me to tease him like this, but the way his breath catches makes it hard to stop. “I’d love to see you create something with those skilled hands of yours.”
Nate shifts on the couch, putting a bit more space between us. “You’re playing with fire, Caspian,” he warns, but there’s a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “How did you end up here anyway? At my parents’ house, of all places?”
The abrupt subject change makes me chuckle. “Catherine invited me, actually. Turns out our moms were best friends growing up. Small world, right?” I accept the glass of water Felix passes me as he returns. “She’s going to be supplying pastries for Special Blend. Says she misses baking professionally.”
“Mom’s apple turnovers are legendary,” Nate agrees, taking his own water. “The whole town practically rioted when Old Mac announced his retirement. Not because of his retirement but because there was no one to take over.”
“Well, now they’ll be available again at my shop.” I can’t resist adding, “You should stop by sometime. Try one fresh from the oven.”
His eyes meet mine over the rim of his glass, and the tension between us crackles like static electricity. “Maybe I will.”
Felix clears his throat, reminding us we’re not alone, and I feel my cheeks heat. I’ve been so focused on Nate that I almost forgot where we are. Lottie and her friends are still playing nearby, their cheerful voices a reminder that we’re at a family gathering. I straighten, trying to look more composed than I feel.
“So, Felix,” I say, perhaps a bit too brightly, “I have a long list of books for the book corner at Special Blend. I’d love if you could have a look at it and help me narrow it down to the space available.”
From the corner of my eye, I catch Nate hiding a smirk behind his water glass. He knows exactly what I’m doing, and I resist the urge to stick my tongue out at him.
Catherine bustles in from the kitchen, saving me from my awkward attempt at changing the subject. “Who wants birthday cake? Girls, wash those hands first.”
The children scatter toward the bathroom, their excited chatter echoing down the hallway. As everyone starts moving toward the dining room, Nate leans close, so close I can smell the crisp winter air still clinging to his jacket.
“Real smooth there,” he murmurs, and the warmth of his breath against my ear sends a shiver down my spine.
I turn my head slightly, meeting his amused gaze. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He chuckles, low and deep, and the sound does dangerous things to my composure. “Sure you don’t.”
Before I can respond, Lottie comes racing back, grabbing both our hands. “Uncle Nate, can Mr. Caspian sit next to us? Please?”
I watch Nate’s expression soften as he looks at his niece. “That’s up to Mr. Caspian, kiddo.”
“I’d be honored,” I say, earning a brilliant smile from Lottie and a complicated look from Nate that makes my heart skip. “And please, just call me Caspian. Mr. Caspian makes me feel like I’m as old as those dinosaurs you were playing with.”
Lottie giggles, covering her mouth with her hand. “But dinosaurs are really, really old! Like a million billion years!”
I give her a pointed stare. “Exactly. I’m only twenty-nine.”
