Page 118 of The Quiet Witness

Even though her cheeks blazed from the way the elegant woman so brazenly scanned her figure.

The place was welcoming enough, thick ropes dangled from the ceiling, ending in rose gold casings that held the tear drop like lights, which spread their warm glow over the scaffolding wooden table.

“All recycled.” Lucien whispered in her ear. She nodded. The tables were slightly uneven in some places, yet it only added to the charm.

Furniture given a second life. Damn, that didn’t need to sound so pathetically close to her own situation, Kate rolled her eyes at her own daydreaming.

Stay in the moment.

Which went surprisingly easy tonight, from the second they’d set foot out of the car, where Lucien had opened the door for her to now manoeuvring them between patrons with his warm hand brushing against her lower back. She heavily resisted the urge to lean in to his touch, forcing down her thumping heartbeat with long, near silent exhales.

On second thought, maybe stay a little less in the moment.

On purpose she kept her gaze fixed on her surroundings, from the dark marble of the bar with the reflections of the low hanging lights dancing over it, to the blindingly white piano on proud display in a corner. Marianne led them to a corner table offering a full view of the instrument and the garden behind it, framed by the glass window it showed that the white snow crystals were still falling, adding to the thick, white blanket covering every inch of nature.

Lucien’s hand finally left her back as he stepped forward to draw out the recycled wooden chair with a grin and a wink. Rolling her eyes at him, Kate took a seat on the pastel pink cushions, murmuring a thank you while Marianne placed the menus in front of them.

The hostess wrung her hands together with a hesitant smile on her face, before asking Lucien a question. “Will you be offering us a sample of your work tonight, Lucien?” She pointedly glanced over her shoulder toward the piano with an elegant swish off her neck, anticipation clear in her eyes.

So he has a reputation! I knew he was good.

Kate whirled her head in his direction, curious for the answer for as much as he seemed to enjoy his solitude, he could so easily blend in between the crowd, accepted everywhere he went.

He offered Marianne an apologetic smile. “Not tonight I’m afraid, we will just be enjoying your cuisine for the evening.”

The hostess nodded, having taken their orders she strode off toward the bar, finally leaving them alone. Kate raised an eyebrow toward her partner for the evening, who had graciously positioned his chair to watch over the patrons, and the entrance. Funny, for how relaxed he seemed to be, there was always this look in his eyes, ever so watchful, always on high alert.

Kate leaned in slightly, forcing her voice a tone higher to get above the murmuring of the gathered crowd. “No alcohol?” Having ordered herself a red wine to be fancy for once, she was baffled when he ordered his usual… water.

“I like to remain levelheaded.”

She snorted. “You could say that again. You live like a monk.”

Dimples formed on his cheeks as he asked. “How pray tell, did you get that idea into your mind?”

“Well.” She interlaced her fingers, schooling her face into mock seriousness. “Your fridge is stocked with vegetables, the only drink I’ve seen in your hands is water. And thus, you are living the life of a true monk.” Kate shot him an I-told-you-so face.

Earning her a loud laugh from Lucien. “Hardly solid evidence for such a bold claim.”

They fell silent, Kate grappled for something to say, anything to fill the pressuring stillness between them. Lucien’s fingers drummed over the table.

Someone else is nervous too.

The thought made a chuckle escape her. The drumming stopped, his eyes fixed on her grin, asking with that familiar tilt of his head. “An inside joke I need to know about?”

Giving a half shrug she said. “We’ve been through a lot, not once has it been…”

He offered her the word she was searching for. “Awkward?”

“Yes!” She slapped a hand on her thigh, happy he’d filled in the blank. “We’re sitting here like two school children on a first date.”

A smile took over his sharp features. “Well, that’s one way to frame it.”

Another hush fell over their conversation, she racked her brain for an opening, coming up with just one question. Oh well, it will fill this dreadful silence I hope.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”