Willow really didn’t want another salad, but anxiety rose in her stomach at the thought of eating anything else and she actually regretted Nutcracker season being so close. Under normal circumstances, hitting stage weight was a struggle. But being on vacation while having to trim down sucked hard. Typically, when she was watching calories, she avoided restaurants at all costs. They could really throw a wrench into the gears, because sometimes, even salads ended up being bad for you.
“You know,” Juliet said, as if she could read Willow’s thoughts. “The good thing about knowing the guy who owns the place is that he might be willing to help you find something that won’t ruin your diet.”
Willow smiled across the table at her friend. Juliet didn’t always agree with the harsh realities of eating with the stage in mind, but she did try to understand. “I’ll find something. No need to make a fuss.”
Ian’s eyes went wide “Diet? Tell me this is some kind of weight gain diet…”
Food was the one part of ballet she got tired of defending. “It’s just part of the job,” she said as she folded her menu and laid it on the table. “If I was a sumo wrestler, you’d be shoving food at me without thinking.” She smiled and tried not to look like she was scanning for Harry over Ian's shoulder while she totally scanned for Harry over Ian's shoulder.
Dinner passed in a stream of good conversation and laughter. Lots of laughter. It didn’t take an observational genius to see why Juliet had fallen so head over heels, crazy in love with Ian. He was sweet and funny and protective. He took care of her while managing to give her room to breathe and be her own person. If ever there was a perfect man for Juliet, he was the guy. He had Willow in stitches, describing the day they’d met at a rest stop outside Bliss.
“And I spent the rest of the night thinking about her,” he finished, after describing his trek onto the beach to rescue Lulu.
“And then we ran into each other at Good Beginnings the next morning, which suited me just fine because I couldn’t get my mind off him, either.” Juliet took Ian’s hand and Willow’s mind turned to Harry for the millionth time that evening.
Where was he? Was he in the kitchen? An office? At home? She liked the thought of sharing the same space as him, but would love it if she could actually see him.
Damn, Willow, she thought. Get a grip.
How could she be so infatuated with a guy she had only just met? And yet, how could everything about him be everything she ever wanted? How could his lips taste so sweet and his body be so yummy? And all the sexy thoughts… How could he conjure up so many sexy thoughts in her head?
And then, suddenly, as if she summoned him with the sheer power of concentration, Harry was standing at her side. “When I saw the order for a salad with absolutely plain chicken come through, I knew it was you.” He smiled down at Willow. “Dressing on the side, of course.”
Willow flared her fingers and smiled up at him. “Of course.”
Harry crouched down so he wasn’t towering over her. “I could have whipped something up special for you, you know.”
“Julz and Ian said as much, but I didn’t want to put you out.”
“What’s the point of being a chef if you can’t spoil your friends with a good meal? Besides, I would feel better knowing I had taken care of your needs.”
Willow smiled and focused on her hands, a blush starting in her toes and flaring across her cheeks. She didn’t have a good answer for him. At least not one that made sense. She wanted to tell him how good it felt to know someone wanted to take care of her. That of all the people in the world who might say such a thing to her, he was the one she wanted to hear it from the most.
And then there was the physical reaction that came from being near him, the flip-flopping of her stomach, the surge of need pooling between her legs…
The desire to have his lips on hers, to taste him and to have him taste her in return.
To have her hands on him, to trace them over that gorgeous chest, skate them across his tight stomach, to kiss between that delightful V at his hip bones that pointed down toward other parts of his body she wanted to know more intimately.
Harry cleared his throat and Willow met his eyes, afraid her thoughts had flashed across her face like a neon sign. “How about you let me prepare a proper dinner tomorrow? You shoot me a text outlining your dietary restrictions, and I'll make you something delicious and nutritious.” He turned to Juliet. “I’m not just stealing your maid of honor for selfish reasons. I have some wedding stuff to discuss with her, if you don’t mind.” He returned his gaze to Willow and his smile widened. “Thoughts?”
How could she say anything but yes? “That sounds lovely.”
“Good.” Harry straightened. “I agree.” He placed a hand on her shoulder, and Willow’s breath stuttered in her chest as a shiver of delight rolled through her.
His touch felt so damn right.
It meant everything to her.
They exchanged goodbyes and Harry disappeared back to wherever he’d been.
“What. The hell. Was that?” Juliet stared open-mouthed and asked the question as if it was three separate sentences. She turned her attention to Ian who shook his
