Tara stared at him for a long moment before she shook her head. “Why are we even talking about this right now? We’re supposed to be working on this website.”

“Wait.” Seth sat up as a sudden thought occurred to him. “Does this count as a date? If you’re counting this as a date, I’m leaving right now. I never agreed to a working date.”

“Seriously?” Her wide eyes looked too innocent. “We’re sharing a cup of coffee and having dessert together. It sounds like a date to me.”

“This is not a date. Coffee and dessert aside. We need to have a meal together for it to be a date. That’s the rule.”

“You’re making that up.”

“It was my dare, so I get to make up the rules.” He didn’t mind one bit that he came across as supremely immature.

“Fine. This isn’t a date.” Tara rolled her eyes. “Keep your pants on.”

“Is that your rule?” he teased, lightly bumping her with his shoulder. “I have to keep my pants on when we’re not on a date?”

“You are so immature.” Fighting a smile, she turned her attention back to the photographs. “How can someone so childish create such beautiful things?”

His heart thundered in his chest. As a kid, he’d always worn his heart on his sleeve and put his everything into his art. He chose photography as his profession because it put a barrier between his art and what the world saw. Unlike his art, photographs filtered out most of his inner self. But something in Tara’s voice told him that she was seeing more than he meant for her to see.

“The setting itself is beautiful. All I did was capture it,” he said warily.

Tara kept scrolling through the photos and Seth belatedly remembered the photos he’d taken of the light—when the light and shadow danced to create a small window into another place. He’d been tempted to place them into a separate folder, but he hadn’t wanted to admit that they were special to him. Because they weren’t. They were just some pictures that he’d enjoyed taking as a photographer. Pictures of the restaurant, which belonged in the restaurant folder.

But now, as Tara drew closer to them, Seth had the urge to snatch the laptop away from her. Despite his effort to minimize their significance, he had to face the fact that they were more than just pictures to him. And he didn’t want to hear her laugh at his pictures of wood dust. Goddammit. He was overreacting. He’d just played with the light a bit. That was it. They were nothing.

A sharp gasp from Tara ripped him out of his anxious musings. Her lips were slightly parted and her eyes were wide with wonder. With trepidation, he lowered his gaze to the screen to find the first photo of the enchanted light he’d captured.

“Seth,” she whispered, her voice so soft that he could hardly hear her. “This is … What is this?”