He offered her his coat—she offered him something he never expected. The evening air had turned crisp, and he’d shrugged off his jacket without thinking, holding it out to her as they stood on the porch. Chivalry, habit, the kind of small gesture he’d been taught to make. She’d smiled, taking it, but instead of slipping it on, she draped it over the railing.
Then she stepped closer, her hands on his chest, and tilted her head up. “You want to know what I need?” she said, her voice low, before he could ask. He nodded, confused, and she rose onto her toes, lips brushing his ear. “Not warmth,” she murmured. “Something warmer.”
The coat forgotten, he felt her hands slide up to his shoulders, pulling him down to meet her mouth. This wasn’t the grateful kiss he might have expected, soft and brief. It was deliberate, hungry, a clear answer to a question he hadn’t realized he was asking. She’d taken his small, polite gesture and turned it into an opening, using his own kindness to reveal her own desire. By the time she pulled back, his coat still hung untouched, and he knew he’d gotten more than he’d offered. She had a way of doing that—taking the ordinary and making it extraordinary, leaving him always wanting more.