A habit that made him want to run his own fingers through her tresses and feel the silky strands. Among other parts of her.
The housekeeper took Julia’s jacket from her and, while Ben couldn’t read Julia’s lips as she said something, he caught her gentle smile of thanks.
The other young woman, probably Lilí, followed suit before the two cousins began making their way across the mottled white and cream tiled floor. They strode past the ornate antique hutches displaying priceless vases and sculptures, on their way toward the sliding glass doors leading to the expansive terrace. And while others may have been drawn to the beautiful decorations and touches in the Taylors’ artfully designed home, Ben only had eyes for Julia.
He rose from his seat, anxious to be with her again.
The past three Tuesdays hadn’t been enough. Not for him.
Laura Taylor excused herself from a small group standing near the outdoor bar off to the right and she and Ben reached the doors at the same time as Julia and her cousin.
Politeness had him holding back, allowing the hostess to greet her guests. Warm hugs were exchanged, then Laura held out her arm, welcoming him into their close-knit circle.
“Lilí, I’m sure you know who this is, as I’m aware of your baseball knowledge. But Ben, I’d like you to meet the youngest of the Fernandez sisters, Lilí. She’s a victim’s advocate at a clinic that serves the Humboldt Park area.”
He extended his hand to shake, but Lilí leaned in for a hug as was customary in her Latino culture.
“Hugging’s in my DNA,” she said with a laugh. “But even if it wasn’t, I’m giving myself this one chance to fan-girl over you. Then I promise to be on my best behavior.”
Ben chuckled at her cheeky grin. It turned into a full out laugh when Julia rolled her eyes and murmured an “Ay Dios mío.”
“What would you two like to drink?” Laura asked.
Julia declined, so Laura and Lilí headed toward the bar together. As they moved away, Julia turned toward him, that easy smile of hers curving her lips.
“Happy Thanksgiving,” she said.
Stepping closer, she lightly grasped his upper arms and rose up on her toes to press her cheek against his in the not-quite-a-kiss gesture she’d greeted him with the other day. Instinctively he placed a hand on her waist, taking in a deep breath sweetened by her floral scent. The urge to wrap her in his arms, give her the kind of hello kiss that would knock her stiletto boots off, pounded in his veins.
But she’d given him no clear sign that she was interested in moving their relationship out of the friend zone into something more. Until he was sure, he’d play it casual. All while upping his game, determined to woo her.
“It’s good to see you again,” he said, pleased when she didn’t move away after their brief hug. Instead she stayed close, keeping their conversation intimate. “When I heard you were having a family dinner in Oakton, I wasn’t sure if you’d make it.”
“Lilí and I skipped dessert. Though I may or may not have snuck a sliver of Rosa’s flan on the way out.”
The teasing glint in Julia’s hazel eyes easily drew an answering smile from him. He wanted to whisk her away to a quiet corner where he could have her to himself. Spend the evening enjoying the heat from the fire and sharing a bottle of wine while the lights from Navy Pier in the distance and the stars sprinkled across the sky sparkled around them.
“With that sweet tooth of yours, I’m sure Rosa expected you to sample,” he told Julia, pleasure warming his chest when her smile broadened into a huge grin.
“Ah, you know me too well.”
“Not yet.”
Julia tilted her head, giving him a speculative look. Before she could respond to his not too subtle intent, Sherman Taylor approached, his hand outstretched in greeting.
The prominent lawyer ushered them over to chat with two middle-aged couples seated in a pair of dark brown wicker patio couches and matching ottomans. A brick and metal gas fire pit nestled in the center of the gathering space creating a warm, inviting ambiance.
Introductions were made for Julia, then Sherman drifted away to pour her a glass of pinot noir. One of the husbands, a salt-and-pepper-haired criminal defense lawyer, asked Ben how he enjoyed living near the ballpark in Wrigleyville. This led into a discussion of the relatively new area known as the town square, the Park at Wrigleyville.
“Have you been yet?” the lawyer’s wife asked Julia.
“No, I haven’t. Though I hope to get there to try a bit of ice skating,” she answered. “That would be a first for me.”
“You should go!” the woman encouraged. “I took our kids last weekend and they had a great time.”
The conversation moved on to other topics, though Ben listened with only half an ear.
He was too busy concocting an idea. One he hoped he could entice Julia to say yes to. So far, any mention of sharing dinner or coffee outside their event planning had been politely declined. But this . . . it just might be the ticket.
A short while later, Lilí joined their group. He started to rise and offer her his seat on an ottoman, but Julia slid over on the deep red sofa cushion to make room for her cousin to sit in between her and one of the wives.
The move brought Julia closer to him, their knees brushing against one another’s. Like a randy adolescent sitting next to his first crush, Ben felt his body hum at the innocent contact. Surreptitiously, he tugged on his dress pants leg, adjusting himself.
Though she didn’t say anything, Ben noticed Lilí placed a cell
