“Those tales are ghastly.” Rose fiddled with a button on her cuff.
“As is real life. She wasn’t wrong. Everyone has a fairy tale, but very few get their happy ending.”
“Is that why you came to New York? To find your happy ending?” She’d never worked so hard to carry on a conversation, nor experienced such a powerful need to make him open up to her, to burrow inside him and discover all the individual pieces that composed the man.
“I went to boarding school here.” His eyes did not lift from his plate. “After my wife died, I came back at a friend’s urging. Far from a happy ending.”
Rose’s chest tightened; although his words betrayed nothing, the tension in his shoulders revealed the yoke of pain he carried.
“Did you enjoy school?”
Ben met her gaze with a smirk. “I am the bastard son of a wealthy industrialist and an immigrant factory worker. My father thought he could dress me up in respectability, but nothing could hide who I truly am.”
“And who are you?” she asked, her voice low.
Something dark passed over his eyes as he spoke. “Someone who does not belong.”
“Enjoying the pie?” Abby stepped up to the table, her fingers fidgeting with the edges of her apron.
“Delicious,” Ben said, wiping his mouth with his napkin.
Abby grinned. “High praise coming from you. Three whole syllables!”
“Wonderful, Abby,” Rose said. “Thank you.”
Abby beamed and trotted back into the kitchen, Ben’s eyes following her the entire time. A prick of jealousy caught Rose unawares, and she refused to attend to it. Perhaps they had been lovers in the past, despite Abby’s relationship with Cass. The trio seemed close, so—
“What are you thinking?” Ben watched her with one raised brow.
“Why do you assume I’m thinking and not simply enjoying my pie?” She hoped her cheeks weren’t as flushed as they felt.
“You purse your lips when you’re puzzling something out,” he said, and her stomach tumbled, perhaps evenfluttered. Ben was paying attention to herlips? “And you must have been thinking because you weren’t talking.”
Ouch.Since she’d been caught out, she might as well confess. Ben could not possibly think less of her than he already did. “I wondered if something had happened between you and my cousin.” His brows furrowed. “Somethingintimate,” she clarified.
Ben dropped his fork to his plate, the clatter causing Rose to jump. “No,” he said, the tips of his ears turning red. “Nothing like that.”
“I wouldn’t judge,” Rose said, delighted that she had flustered him so.
“Abby and Cass are like sisters to me, and I want to protect them. This is the first time Abby has worked outside the apartment and I still have concerns about her safety.” The blush spread across his cheekbones, his dark eyes gleaming against the pinked skin.
“That’s kind of you.” She sipped the bitter tea, and the taste, alongside the mention of sisters, made her long for home. “You do bicker like siblings.”
“Do you bicker with your sisters?”
Rose recoiled and pressed a hand to her chest. “Are you making small talk?”
He shrugged as he scooped up another mouthful of pie. “It would be rude to sit in silence, I suppose.”
“You’ve never had an issue being rude to me before.”
Dropping his gaze, Ben spoke softly. “I apologize.”
Rose waited for him to continue, but he remained silent. Rose lifted her own forkful and ate, licking the syrup off her lips. When she looked up again, Ben was watching her closely, his eyes trained on her mouth, pupils dark. Her heart fluttered in her chest as he blinked and looked away. “Siblings,” Rose managed. “I am the youngest of five. Technically, the second youngest. I have a twin.”Please don’t ask more, please don’t—
“A twin? Is she exactly like you?”
Rose swallowed hard against the sudden lump in her throat, then took a sip of tea, hoping to dislodge it. “No, she’s—Fern is very different.”
