And I couldn’t ignore the small knot in my stomach that had formed sometime between my front porch and the first sip of tea.
Because for all the grins and sizzle, we hadn’t talked about what this was.
And if I didn’t ask soon, I was going to drive myself insane.
“So,” I said, poking at my crust with the side of my fork. “Can I ask you something?”
Ben glanced up, chewing slowly. “Sure.”
I hesitated. “What is this?”
He blinked.
I rushed to clarify. “Not in a define-the-relationship way…okay, maybe a little in that way. But just… I like you, and I think you like me, and it feels like more than a vacation fling, but maybe I’m just imagining it, and that’s fine too but—”
“Fifi,” he interrupted gently, setting down his fork.
I shut my mouth.
He wiped his hands and leaned forward, forearms on the table. “You’re not imagining it.”
My heart flipped.
“I don’t know what itisyet,” he admitted. “But I know it doesn’t feel casual. Not to me.”
I exhaled, trying not to melt. “Good.”
His smile tugged at one corner. “And here I thought you brought me here for the pie.”
“Oh, the pie was definitely part of it.”
“But?”
“But I kind of hoped I’d get to see you smile like that again.”
Ben looked down, shaking his head. When he looked back up, something warmer sat behind his gaze. Something real.
“Keep this up,” he said, voice low, “and I won’t ever leave.”
I grinned and popped a chip in my mouth. “Good thing I already have the next place picked out.”
“Is it in the woods?”
I laughed and shook my head.
“No, not like that.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been courted with roasted turkey and berry pie before,” Ben said, taking another bite of his sandwich and giving me that half-smile that somehow melted my bones and lit my entire face on fire at the same time.
I raised a brow. “Courted? Big word, lumberjack.”
He shrugged, all calm confidence and golden forearms from where he’d rolled his sleeves up like some walking outdoorsy daydream. “I call it like I see it.”
“Maybe I just wanted an excuse to eat carbs in the sun and pretend it was work.”
“You keep calling it work, but you’re the one who insisted on getting here fifteen minutes early to snag this table with the best view.”
“That’s because the west-facing tables get full sun by noon,” I said, gesturing like a professional tour guide. “Rookie mistake. You’d have been sweating through your plaid and dripping from your beard.”
