Surely he had liked her, or he would not have done it.
She slightly moved her hand in his and felt the harsh contact of his teamster callouses.

The sensation was exquisite.

He, too, moved his hand, to accommodate the shift of hers, and she waited fearfully.

She did not want him to prove like other men, and she could have hated him had he dared to take advantage of that slight movement of her fingers and put his arm around her.

He did not, and she flamed toward him.
There was fineness in him.