He shot me a knowing look. “Tell me about it.”

I took a few more bites. “This is really good cheesecake.”

“You want to know the worst part? Honestly, it’s not even the dancing.”

“No?”

He shook his head. “It’s the expectation. Cooper’s off the hook ’cause he’ll probably be gone before the wedding. And Simon’s off the hook because of Karen. But they must have paraded Katie’s sister in front of me a hundred times. It felt like one giant setup.”

“Does Katie’s sister have a name?”

He paused. “Elizabeth? No, wait. It’s Jane. The younger one is Elizabeth.”

I reached over and squeezed his arm. “Poor guy. It’s a miracle you made it out in one piece.”

“And with cheesecake.”

“That’s a miracle I’m grateful for.” I nudged my plate forward. “Is there more?”

“You do like your food, don’t you?”

“It’s one of my favorite hobbies, yes.”

“So I take it you’re not the kind of girl who counts the croutons on her salad.”

“Absolutely not. Unless there aren’t enough croutons on the salad. Because croutons are delicious.”

He dished up a second piece of cheesecake and slid it toward me. I took the containers of sauce and drizzled them over the top. “So how did Jane feel about the matchmaking? Was she interested? Annoyed? Embarrassed?”

“Definitely embarrassed.”

“You should tell her you’re seeing somebody. Then the expectations are gone and maybe you can be friends.”

He dropped his fork and slid his plate forward. “Okay. You win. I can’t even finish my first piece.”

“This is already round two for you, right? Did you eat dessert with everyone else?”

“I guess I did. And enough dinner for three people, so maybe I’m okay letting you win this time.” He stood and took the dessert containers to the sink, where he rinsed them off. Helpful but annoying. Because I’d just alluded to us having an actual relationship and he’d responded with . . . nothing.

I followed him and leaned against the counter. “So you’re gonna let that one go, huh? I say we’re seeing each other, and you say, ‘Hey, I should do the dishes.’”

He turned off the water and reached for the dish towel hanging over the stove handle, a huge smile stretching across his face. “I wasn’t going to let it go.”

“No?”

He stepped closer—intentionally closer—and threw the towel over his shoulder before propping his hands on the counter, one on either side of me. Framed by his arms, I was close enough to see him, to smell him, to reach up and touch the shadowy stubble along his jawline. Our bodies were only inches apart. Maybe Jane got to be his ballroom dance partner, but it was me getting his smolder. The effect it was having on my heart was maddening.