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Aster’s laugh came as an indelicate snort. “Everyone is aware of that,” he paused, smiling. “Except Eli, of course.”
“So Eli’s got me helping him hunt for a boyfriend, and he has no idea Bentley is—I don’t know, waiting for destiny to finally pull them together?”
“My suggestions about alternative, more straightforward strategies have been soundly ignored.”
Molly smiled, considering Bentley’s and Eli’s roundabout circumstances as their food arrived. Through the glass doors and the windows in the winery beyond them, the sun had fully set, sky transitioned from a peach-toned persimmon to a lovely, velvet-rich navy. It hit her again how extraordinary this gift of an evening was.
“I can imagine,” she began, “that we weren’t much different in the beginning. If I had to guess.”
“Different from what?” Aster asked as their plates were cleared, leaving only wine and conversation and the soft glow of flickering candlelight.
“Bentley and Eli,” she said. “Knowing us, I suspect one of us thought we were being pretty obvious while the other was completely oblivious to all of it. I assume I was the obvious one, since I’m very good about going after the things I want.” She suppressed a smirk, waiting for him to take her bait.
Aster laughed so hard he had to set his glass back down on the table. “Molly, I love you dearly. And you are very intelligent. But books are more your strength.”
“You’re saying I was the oblivious one?” she asked like it was truly preposterous.
“I would stake my nonexistent fortune on it.”
Molly sent him her most suspicious look. “Well. Maybe I’ve changed.”
She placed her napkin on the table, a deliberate motion that stalled Aster’s retort in his throat. She stood.
Bravery, she knew. Anticipation, she welcomed. But the way her heartbeat stuttered behind the cage of bones inside her chest, she fought against. Because that was the part that made her feel wild, just a little out of control and uncertain of herself.
She was certain of this.
It only took two careful steps to reach Aster’s side of the small table. She put her hands on her hips, a motion meant to hide the stammering inside her chest, a pose that placed her in control.
Aster’s expression hadn’t changed from the moment she stood: a smirk mixed with expectation, interest.
Molly was pleased to find her voice solid and confident. “Make room.”
A flash of confusion, faster than a lightning strike, was the only indication of Aster’s surprise. With a quiet scrape of his chair against the wood floor, he put space between himself and the table.
It was just enough for Molly to step forward and perch in his lap.
She ran her hands up his chest and to the back of his neck, tangling them in his hair. In return, he wound his arms around her waist, pulling her close. One of his hands wandered, traveling up her spine and pausing in the middle of her back.
She found his other hand, the one perched at her waist. She guided him lower, over the curve of her hip and the muscles in her thigh. Lower still, she brought his hand to the hem of her dress before beginning their ascent anew. This time, with his fingers trailing along her bare flesh. From her vantage point, it was obvious Aster had stopped breathing altogether.
She guided his hand along her skin beneath the dress, up the outside of her thigh until it came to rest at her hip. She saw the moment recognition hit him. He swallowed, fingers immediately flexing against her skin.
She leaned her face into his neck, needing to bolster her courage with a break from his intense stare. “What about this?” she asked, breathing the question between soft kisses against his neck. Her body felt alight, thrumming with the heat of a star all her own.
“I told you I was certain,” she said into his ear as a powerful thrill raced through her. “So I didn’t bother wearing anything under my dress. Is that obvious enough for you?”
The journey to their room was a blur of wine-flavored kisses and the giggling rush of desire. Whatever charming architecture and quaint decor Bentley’s property had to offer would have to be explored another time.
Inside their room, Molly wobbled at the sight of two double beds.
“I thought about a king,” came Aster’s voice from behind her as the door clicked shut. “But I didn’t want to assume. Just in case.”
The rush of affection surging beneath Molly’s skin nearly doubled her over. She turned to find Aster leaning against the door, watching her.
Tension sizzled in the space between them.
She realized he was waiting for the last barrier between them to crumble, waiting for her to confirm that he could have her, all of her, that it wasn’t the wine or the wooing, but something driven by intent.
