Your shop is never quiet when the Bridgertons visit. Questions are shouted across the room, ribbons fly like streamers, and at least one heated debate breaks out over whether lavender or lilac suits one of the Bridgerton sisters better. As their trusted modiste—and a close friend—you see them often.

Benedict remains near the back, leaning against a shelf stacked with spools of thread, pretending to read a fashion sketch. In truth, he’s watching you. The way you move through the shop with quiet command, your hands deft and practiced— the same hands which were wrapped around his shoulders just the night before.

With events in the Ton looming, everyone knows your mind is busy and your schedule even worse. That’s why Benedict offers to help tidy— until, at last, he watches his family leave, waving at a sister calling something about dinner.

“I almost kissed you,” Benedict breaks the silence, his voice low. “Earlier. When Hyacinth was holding up that ridiculous bonnet and everyone was laughing—”

You finally meet his gaze, just as you notice he’s removed his vest and quietly locked the storeroom door. The front of the shop is spotless, but the back is a mess— bolts of fabric, sketches, and all the beautiful chaos of your work.

He leans forward slightly, beginning to roll up his sleeves, revealing his bare forearms. “You smiled at me. Just for a second. And I nearly forgot where I am.”