The rest of dinner passes in a haze. Audrey asks about my new chamomile blend and whether I’ve considered expanding into bath bombs. Reign mentions something about the snow forecast for next week. Ben’s hand never leaves my thigh.
I answer questions on autopilot, smile at the right moments, even manage to eat a few bites of the delicious food in front of me. But most of my brain is focused on the point of contact between Ben’s palm and my leg. On the heat radiating from his body beside me. On the way he keeps glancing at me with those dark, hungry eyes.
I’ve read about this feeling in books. The heroines always describe it as electricity, as magnetism, as an irresistible pull. I always thought they were exaggerating.
They weren’t.
Leo starts fussing in his bassinet near Audrey’s chair, and she rises with a tired but affectionate smile.
“Someone’s ready for bed,” she says, scooping him up. “And honestly, so am I. Tilly, it was so wonderful having you. I hope we’ll see you again soon.”
“Thank you for dinner,” I say, meaning it. “Everything was delicious.”
Audrey leans down to kiss Reign’s cheek, then carries Leo toward the hallway. Reign stands, stretching.
“I should help get him down,” he says. “Ben, you good?”
“We’re good.”
Reign nods and follows his wife, leaving Ben and me alone in the dining room.
The silence feels heavy with possibility. I’m suddenly aware of every sound—the crackle of the fire, the clink of silverware as Ben sets down his fork, my own heartbeat thundering in my ears.
His hand is still on my thigh, warm and possessive. When I finally gather the courage to look at him, his eyes are dark, intent, focused entirely on me.
“Well, you were right,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “That wasn’t awkward at all.”
Ben’s lips curve into a smile. “Told you they wouldn’t mind.”
“I still feel like I crashed a family dinner.”
“You were invited.” His thumb resumes its slow circles on my thigh. “And they liked you.”
“How can you tell?”
“Reign spoke more than ten words to you. That’s practically a speech from him.” His hand slides a fraction higher on my leg. “And Audrey couldn’t stop smiling.”
I swallow hard, trying to focus on his words instead of his touch. “She seemed... happy to see us together.”
“She was.”
“Why?”
Ben’s eyes hold mine. “Because she knows what this is.”
My heart skips. “And what is this, exactly?”
Instead of answering, he reaches up with his free hand and tucks a stray curl behind my ear. The simple touch sends shivers down my spine.
“You know what it is, sweetheart. You felt it too,” he says quietly. “The moment I walked into your shop.”
I want to deny it. I want to say that normal people don’t feel cosmic connections after one meeting. That whatever is happening between us is just chemistry, just attraction, just the novelty of being desired by someone like him.
But I can’t lie. Not when he’s looking at me like that.
“Yes,” I whisper. “I felt it.”
His hand slides to the back of my neck, fingers threading through my hair.
