“You’re teasing me,” she sighed, her blush deepening as she clung to her cup like it might anchor her.
“Guilty,” he said, his voice smooth, his gaze holding hers long enough to make her toes curl in her shoes.
“Sorry,” she murmured, looking down at the swirl of coffee in her cup.“I’m usually not this slow to catch on.”
“I find it… charming.”His broad shoulders angled toward her, closing the space between them as though the rest of the café didn’t exist.His voice dipped, warm and certain.“I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.Feels like fate, doesn’t it?”
Her lips parted, but no words came.Her pulse thrummed in her ears, every nerve alive to his nearness—the subtle scrape of his fingers along his coffee cup, the weight of his attention like a hand at the small of her back.
She found herself leaning in without realizing it, drawn to the small shifts in his expression, the way his eyes tracked hers as though committing her face to memory.
For a woman who swore she had no time for men, Natalie realized she was measuring her breaths to the rhythm of his voice.And for a man who surely had better things to do, he seemed entirely content to sit there, eyes locked on hers, as if the rest of the day could wait.
Chapter 5
Rylan leaned forward, the playful gleam in his dark eyes matching the smirk tugging at his lips.“I might be stalking you,” he teased, his voice low, rich, and threaded with amusement.
Natalie’s lips parted in a small, surprised “O,” and his gaze lingered.The lipstick she’d been wearing earlier had faded, leaving her lips bare, soft, and distractingly kissable.
“You’re not,” she countered, narrowing her eyes just slightly as her head tilted.Her voice was sweet and clear, but there was a glint of challenge there—a subtle spark that caught and held his interest.“You were already planning to stop for coffee.”
He couldn’t help the slow curve of his smile.She was sharp.And wrong.He’d been on his way to a meeting when he’d seen her through the café window and told his driver to stop.Truth was, he’d never set foot in a place like this—his coffee was usually brought to him by staff—but seeing her through the window had made him change his plans without a second thought.
“If we’re going to keep running into each other,” he said, letting his voice dip just enough to make it feel like a secret between them, “and I have a feeling we will… don’t you think we should introduce ourselves?”He extended a hand, his movements deliberate, confident.“I’m Rylan.”
She hesitated a beat—long enough to make him wonder—before sliding her hand into his.Her grip was firm, her skin soft, and he didn’t miss the faint hitch of her breath at the contact.
“I’m Natalie,” she said, her smile blooming, lighting her entire face.
“Natalie,” he repeated, letting the syllables roll off his tongue as if testing the sound.“What do you do, Natalie?”
What began as small talk soon flowed into an easy, unforced rhythm.Rylan listened as she described her work as an interior designer, her eyes sparking when she spoke about transforming lifeless spaces into something beautiful and functional.She didn’t just explain her process—she made him see it, her hands gesturing in the air, her voice carrying that mix of confidence and joy that drew him in.
“You must be busy,” he observed, watching the way she leaned forward without realizing it.
“Very,” she laughed softly.“But I love it.It’s rewarding to see a client’s face when they walk into a space that feels like it was made for them.”She paused, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, unaware of how the movement made his gaze follow her fingers.“What about you?What do you do?”
He leaned back, letting the question hang for a moment.“I’m working with civil engineers on a harbor project,” he said smoothly.Not untrue, though he left out the title, the reach, the weight of it.He liked that she looked at him without any of that in the way.
“That sounds fascinating,” she said, genuine curiosity in her tone.“Is it one of those big infrastructure projects I see on the news?”
“Something like that,” he replied, steering them back toward her.“But I’d rather know more about you.What do you do when you’re not designing?”
She hesitated, the faintest blush touching her cheeks.“You’re going to laugh.”
“Try me.”His voice softened, coaxing.
“Well… I love to read,” she admitted, her blush deepening.“Specifically, paranormal romance novels.”One of his brows lifted slightly.She hurried on.“It’s fantasy… with romance.Werewolves, vampires, that sort of thing.”
Rylan didn’t know the genre, but the way she stumbled over her words made his mouth curve.“So, you like stories about supernatural creatures falling in love?”
Her blush spread, but she laughed.“Pretty much.It’s a little silly, I know.”
“Not silly,” he countered, holding her gaze.“Especially if it makes you smile like that.”
She ducked her head, but her laughter bubbled up again—light, unguarded.He found himself wanting to hear it again, maybe to see if he could coax it out of her in other ways.
“Is that your guilty pleasure?”he teased, leaning in until the air between them seemed warmer.
