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Under the Table

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It’s at least the third time during this meeting that Kathryn’s hand has brushed his leg, not to mention that her thigh is pressed up against his. Yes the conference room is pretty crowded, but not so much so that she needs to be sitting that close.

“Is she doing that on purpose?” he can’t help wondering, raging, hoping.

He definitely has next to no idea what is being discussed, not as this time her palm stops and rests against the top of his leg, absentmindedly tracing patterns against the fabric of his uniform pants.

He thinks the meeting is never going to end and he isn’t sure whether that’s a good or a bad thing.

It does though. The meeting ends and everyone else files out and finally he turns to face her.

“What was that about?” he can’t help asking in exasperation.

“What about?”

She sounds so innocent but she can’t really be.

“The umm… body contact,” he equivocates.

“I wanted to,” she shrugs, “Was it a problem?”

“That depends,” the words leave his mouth before he can stop them, “On what happens next.”

“Dinner for two, candlelight, champagne… that is if you are up for it.”

“A date?” he raises his eyebrows in hope and suspicion.

“A date,” she confirms, standing and winking at him as she walks away.

“I’m up for it,” he can’t control his grin, “And no, the touching wasn’t a problem.”