As the men sat, Owen took the empty space beside Leah, leaning back into the settee until he had situated himself comfortably.
“My mouth still tastes horrid.” He kept his voice low so only she could hear, looking across the room at an empty chair instead of turning to her.
She chuckled, shaking her head. “Nonsense. I drank much more than you and my mouth tastes fine.”
Owen’s eyes dipped to her mouth before he glanced away, clearing his throat. He sat up and ran his hand through his brown hair. “Quite.”
He was acting strangely. “Quite?”
“Was dinner more to your liking this evening?” He ignored her question, moving on and settling himself back against the settee again, grabbing a pillow and playing with its tassels.
“It was. I enjoy lamb.”
Owen bobbed his head and an awkward silence ensued.
“Owen, are you all right? It is not like you to be at a lack of words.”
Deep brown eyes slowly dragged to hers, his brow pulled down. “I honestly don’t know.” His head dipped a little lower to focus on his fidgeting fingers.
Oh dear. Should she keep pressing him for more answers? Or just leave that ambiguous statement sitting in the taut air between them? Perhaps she was overthinking things. He might be worrying about his work or some such thing.
“Is this about work?” she pressed.
He leaned his head ever-so-slightly to the side. “In a matter of words.”
“I honestly cannot tell if you wish me to ask you what is going on or simply leave you be. If you would be so kind as to inform me which you would prefer, I would happily acquiesce.”
His eyes came back to hers. They were such a dark brown that in certain lights she would swear they were black. “I also do not know that.”
The rest of the evening, Owen was strangely silent. From time to time, he would chuckle at something Graham said or Rose did to entertain. But mostly, he stared at the little pillow in his hand in silent observation.
What Leah wouldn’t give to know his thoughts. For more and more, he was filling her own.
Chapter 15
Owen. Morning of the fourth day.
Asonlyteasing.Youare not nearly so whiny now.”
“Notnearly? Do you mean to imply I am still a little whiny?”
He sighed, leaning his head back against the wall. “Actually, no. I find my feelings toward you have . . . changed.”
Leah bit her lip for a moment before turning her face to him. “Oh?”
“Well, not to say changed completely,” he began. He was unaccountably nervous all of a sudden. “I mean, I neverdislikedyou. It was only while we were young and now we arenotso young, and I have found whatever feelings I had before are changing and while that may seem to insinuate I had harsh feelings toward you before that is not quite what I mean . . .” Oh dear. His ears grew hot and his tongue felt too big to swallow and the slight perspiration under his collar made his neck itch. “What I mean to say,” he continued, taking a deep breath, “is that I have enjoyed this stay. And that includes my time spent with you.” He fiddled with the spud in his grasp, keeping a close eye on it instead of looking at Leah’s face.
Suddenly, Owen felt a slap beneath his hand, successfully dislodging the potato into the air where Leah reached out and caught it. She smirked. “I have found I’ve enjoyed it as well.”
“Excuse me,” he said, smiling. “You cannot just steal that.” Owen reached over, taking her hand and trying to pry the potato from her as she laughed. She leaned away and his side pressed against hers as he attempted to get the spud back. Leah switched hands so it was even farther from him, holding it in the air above them.
Owen reached up, losing his balance. He braced his hand against the wall before he fell, successfully catching himself so that he hovered just above Leah. Neither of them spoke as they looked at each other, catching their breath after laughing. But neither of them was laughing now.
Owen’s eyes traced her face, and when her own gaze dipped to his lips, he leaned a bit closer. The darkness wrapped around them like a blanket, and Owen could make out a faint clanking from down the hall in the kitchen. But what had him most entranced was the way Leah couldn’t seem to catch her breath.
“Leah,” he whispered, looking down at her.
Her neck strained. “Yes?”
