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“Smart.”

Her fingers move to the waist of her dress, tugging at the fabric.

“He said things about my body. People laughed. I decided men were easier to avoid.”

I catch her hand before she can pull the dress away from herself.

“Look at me.”

She does.

“There is nothing about your body a man should laugh at.”

Color moves across her cheeks.

I step closer.

“Your hair drives me out of my mind. Your eyes make me forget what I was saying. Every dress you own fits curves I have spent two years trying not to touch.”

Her lips part.

“Two years?”

Too late to take it back.

“Since the first time I walked into your shop.”

“Why did you stay away?”

“Distance felt safer.”

“Does it still?”

“No.”

Nothing about her feels safe.

I have never wanted anything enough to lose control of it.

Until now.

I cup her face.

“Tell me to stop before this goes too far.”

Her eyes stay on mine.

“I don’t want you to stop.”

I kiss her.

Her mouth is soft and sweet.

She makes a quiet sound and grips my shirt.

The control I have held for two years slips.

I angle her head and take the kiss deeper.