“Isn’t everything? For the right price, of course,” he said with a wink.

He talked about the gallery and more Provincetown trivia. She liked looking at him while he spoke, the assurance of his gestures and the way he smiled as he told a story. Still, she felt her mind drifting.

“I’m sorry. What was that?”

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“Oh, everything’s great,” she said.

“Let me guess: You hate takeout.”

“No,” she said, forcing a smile. “I’m just distracted. Family stuff.”

It was partly true.

He made a “give it to me” gesture with his hands. “I know all about ‘family stuff.’ What’s going on?”

She hesitated. But after the New York Times article, there was no use worrying about discretion.

“My aunt—not the one with the store, her sister—is auctioning off jewelry that’s been in the family for generations. My mother died when I was young, and she left me her engagement ring. I was afraid it was going to be part of the auction, but it’s worse than that: My grandparents sold it years ago.”

“That’s awful,” he said, putting his plate down on the ground and reaching for her hand. “Have you talked to a lawyer?”

She shook her head. The thought never crossed her mind. Who could afford a lawyer? “I’m trying to track down the ring to start figuring out if I can ever get it back. Or even see it again. I know it’s a long shot but I need to feel like I’m doing something about it.”

“Well, you should go to the auction,” he said.

“Why would I do that?”

“If there’s something you like, bid on it. That way you can at least have something from the collection.”

Did he imagine she had that kind of money?

“I’ll go with you,” he said.

She laughed. “That’s really sweet. But it’s not for a while. And I’m not going.”

He leaned forward and rubbed her knee. “Think about it. I’m more than happy to give you moral support. And I love a good auction. Maybe I’ll bid on something. You’ll have to tell me what’s worth investing in.”

Their eyes locked and she felt a powerful surge of desire. He leaned forward and kissed her so lightly it was like she imagined it. All at once she was tired of being cautious or protecting herself. She pulled back just enough to set her own plate on the ground, and then moved to his chair, onto his lap. They kissed again, more deeply, and her thoughts disappeared—she was all sensation.

“Do you want to go upstairs?” he said, his voice husky.