“Just a quick look?” he said, his mouth close to her ear.
A delicious shiver slid down her spine, making her forget her words.
“Fine,” he said, his tone still light as he stepped away. “I guess I’ll have to wait.”
She took in a breath, fighting for her composure. “Smart move,” she joked, but caught the shakiness in her voice. Nuts. She was slipping into old nervous habits. But this uncomfortableness felt different. For some bizarre reason... it felt good.
Britt forced herself to be calm as she pulled out a round, sunshine-yellow portable Bluetooth speaker and set it on the table.
Hunter eyed it. “What’s this?”
“Today’s the day we will immerse ourselves in... yacht rock.”
“Aw man,” he whined. “Not that.”
She laughed as he pretended to pout. “You haven’t given it a proper chance.”
“I don’t have to. Can’t we compromise? Maybe some Van Halen ballads—”
“Those exist?”
“Not really, although they do have some lighter rock tunes.” He folded his hands into a pleading gesture. “Please, Ms. Branch. Don’t do this to me.”
Britt picked up her phone and found her seventies playlist. “It’s either that or disco.”
He sat up straight. “Yacht rock it is. But next week we listen to my list.”
She nodded. “Fair enough.” She pressed Play, and a Christopher Cross tune filled the room.
“Oh, I love this song,” Maude said. “It’s from that movie... Drat, I can’t remember the name. But X and I used to dance to it all the time.”
Britt had legit forgotten Maude was still here.
Maude strode toward them. Today’s caftan choice was beige with southwestern symbols scattered all over it. Her red glasses hung around her neck, and she had her long, gray hair tucked under a sage-green turban. “Is Savannah going to have a band at her wedding?”
Britt paused. “I don’t know. She hasn’t mentioned it.”
“She must be having some kind of music.” She glanced at Hunter, as if asking him for confirmation.
He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Don’t ask me. I haven’t met her yet.”
Britt looked at him, wondering if that was a hint that he wanted to meet her friend. She’d talked about her to him enough, although she hadn’t said a word about him to Savannah. Maybe it was time for them to be introduced to each other. And she would, soon. She started to reach into her bag to pull out the subject for her and Hunter’s next drawing.
“If she doesn’t have a band, then there will be a DJ,” Maude said with an emphatic nod. “And lots of dancing. But first there will be the bridal party dance.”
Britt’s head snapped around. “What?”
“The dance where everyone in the party is announced. The maid of honor is paired with the best man... oh boy.” She hurried to Britt’s side. “Are you okay?”
She tried to nod her head, but her nervous system had crashed to the floor. No one had said anything about a dance, especially not with a man and in front of a crowd. She could feel the color drain from her face.
Maude put her arm around her shoulders. “Didn’t Savannah tell you?”
“No.” She reached for her shirt hem, another thing she hadn’t done in a while.
“Maybe it’s just a northern thing,” Maude said quickly. “Or even just a Vermont thing.”
“What if it isn’t?” The pale-blue tank top she was wearing was cotton and didn’t have any stretch. When she pulled on it, her straps dug into her shoulders. “I’ve never been to a dance... I don’t even know how to dance—”
