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“Like what?” he asks.

“Happy.”

The word lands more softly than I expect. Ross studies me for a moment, and something in his expression shifts before he reaches for my hand again and pulls me back into the music.

We stay out there longer than I expect. At some point, Sebastian passes by with a drink in his hand, says something to Ross that makes him laugh again, then disappears back toward the terrace. Ross stays with me.

That’s what I notice most.

He doesn’t drift away to take a call or find an excuse to become serious again. He doesn’t retreat into the version of himself that always seems to be measuring the next decision. He stays in the garden with me, relaxed and amused, eventually kicking off his own shoes after I tease him into it.

I watch him standing barefoot in the grass, smiling at something I’ve just said, and the feeling that moves through me has nothing to do with sex. It’s warmer than that. Deeper.

Later, after Ross is pulled into a conversation near the terrace, I step away from the music long enough to retrieve a fresh glass of champagne.

Eleanor finds me there.

She’s still moving easily through the evening, stopping to speak with people, accepting birthday wishes without ever seeming overwhelmed by the attention. When she reaches me, she glances past my shoulder toward the lawn.

Ross is still there. He’s laughing with Sebastian now, jacket gone, sleeves pushed back, looking more relaxed than I’ve seen him in any room connected to the family.

Eleanor watches him for a moment before turning back to me.

“He’s been smiling more lately,” she says.

I feel heat rise into my face, though I keep my expression composed. “Has he?”

Eleanor smiles gently. “He has.”

I take a small sip of champagne.

She doesn’t press.

Instead, she looks toward Ross again and says, “He carries a great deal. Sebastian does too, in his own way, but Ross has always taken responsibility very seriously.”

“I know,” I say.

Eleanor nods. “That’s why it’s nice to see him like this.”

Her gaze returns to me.

“I think you have something to do with that.”

The warmth in my face deepens.

“I’m not sure I can take credit for it,” I say.

“I’m not asking you to.”

Her tone stays light, but there’s something sincere beneath it.

After a moment, Eleanor adds, “I’m simply glad he’s enjoying himself.”

I look back toward the lawn. Ross catches my eye almost immediately, as though he’s been aware of where I am the entire time.

“He does have a fun side,” I say.

Eleanor laughs softly.