It Had to Be You

A Brush of the Hand

Eliza Stone finally understood what people meant when they said "time stood still." She had been minding her own business on a Friday evening at her family's summer house when she brushed her fingers against his. She had been helping her brother-in-law put a heavy tray of food in the center of the table. She felt her grip wobble ever so slightly. It was heavier than she had anticipated. As she righted the dish, she felt his hand reach out under hers. Their thumbs barely brushed one another but for Eliza, everything stood still. It could not have been more than a millisecond of contact but she felt her world go quiet. Everyone at the boisterous dinner table disappeared from her awareness and suddenly it was just and him. Him being her brother-in-law's best friend. Him being Walker Andrews, the man she'd been in love with for nearly a decade. Him, the man looking at her quizzically at this exact moment.

"Eliza, I've got it. You can put it down." He guided the dish down onto the table, his thumb lingering on the back her hand for the briefest moment more. She hadn't realized she was still holding onto the plate for dear life.

She quickly let go and pulled her hand out from his. She ignored the rush of electricity rising up her spine that sent waves of attraction through her with ease. She was used to this by now. She had long ago stopped counting every micro moment that sent her heart aflutter. But this one she couldn't shake. There was something more being said in the undercurrents of their interactions this weekend. She had noticed it the moment he arrived but she could never bring it up. Millie would never forgive her. Nor would Tim. Her brother-in-law was congenial. He was peaceful. They had always had a healthy friendly relationship. But dating his best friend was out of the question. Millie had made that abundantly clear.