Her fingers slipped from where they had just begun to edge properly under the fit of the waist of his jeans when he pressed her back from where she had so happily fitted herself against him, but aside from a small moue of complaint at having to give up the touch, there was as much curiosity as amused confusion in her to indulge him. It wasn't as if she might have thought he had changed his mind in wanting her. Or that the same Ben who spoke freely and brightly and (she imagined) loudly, would be a Ben who looked at her with such mischief and lust, and then nudge her off his lap to go eat cake first.
Instead she laughed as he unbalanced her and fell her into his arms, her fingers catching at his shirt out of instinct more than a belief that he might drop her, and did not even have the time to tell him 'Hey' back before he was moving again.
She wrapped an arm around his neck when he stood, trusting easy that he would hold her as all she could do was lean into him and take the quiet thrill of feeling small and feminine in strong arms. She tipped her head back and to the side to watch his face as she grinned back at him, plucking at his shirt with two fingers of her free hand and told him, "That sounds like a very good plan."