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“All right,” Forrest said. “I do look forward to talking with you.”
“But not as much as you look forward to dancing.” Her father laughed again as he waved a hand toward the door. He’d become more of his jovial self the past couple of days, and the broad smile on his face was a welcome sight.
That was the other thing Twyla didn’t want to see change. Over the past couple of weeks, her father had been overly worried. She assumed Ginger running off to Chicago was a part of it, but believed more of it had to do with the hoodlum Ty had been chasing. She never tried to fool herself into believing that her father’s business wasn’t a dangerous one. Lucrative, but dangerous. Twyla also understood it could all end, too. The money, the parties. Nothing was forever, but there were things she’d fight tooth and nail to not lose.
“Thanks, Daddy,” she said, and meant it. She gave Forrest another hard tug.
He followed this time, and she wasted no time in pulling him through the doorway.
Slim was playing the piano and doing a good job of it. Twyla led Forrest past the few couples already on the dance floor, not stopping until they reached the center. She’d never been nervous around Forrest, yet for the briefest of moments her stomach fluttered and hiccupped as they stood looking at each other. A crazy thought dashed across her mind. What if Norma Rose was still in love with him? Her sister acted as if Ty was the only man she had eyes for, but she’d proclaimed to have loved Forrest at one time. And he was just as handsome as Ty, if not more so.
Keeping Forrest away from Norma Rose would be easier—much easier—than keeping Norma Rose away from Forrest. Dealing with gangsters was easier than dealing with Norma Rose when she set her mind to something.
“Shall we?” Forrest asked, holding out his hands.
Twyla swallowed and cleared her mind. Norma Rose was in love with Ty, not Forrest, but that didn’t mean Forrest couldn’t ruin everything. That’s what she needed to remember. Reaching out, she pressed one hand against one of his and laid her other on his shoulder.
“We shall,” she said. “Lead the way.” Eyeing his brown eyes critically, she added, “Unless you’d prefer I lead.”
His fingers folded over hers as his other hand grasped her waist firmly and tugged her close. “I prefer to lead.”
Catching the breath his touch had momentarily stolen, she followed his side step and backward glide. “Oh? Do you always get what you prefer?”
“Yes, since I took control of my life.”
“By becoming a flyboy?” she asked. It had intrigued her that he flew airplanes. It irritated her, too. Thinking about the adventures he’d had while she’d been locked in her bedroom. Yet she kept her thoughts from going there. He’d gone on to become a flyboy after ruining her sister’s life, which had now been saved, no thanks to him. Norma Rose deserved every ounce of happiness she found with Ty. They all deserved the happiness they were finding, and the adventures. Oh, yes, the adventures. She’d soon have more of those than him. Airplane or not.
“Among other things,” he said, guiding her in a swift twirl beneath their clutched hands. When she ended her spin and faced him, he added, “Life either bests you, or you best it. That’s a lesson you’ve yet to learn, Twyla, my dear.”
“Well, Forrest, my dear,” she said, spinning again. “I’ve already learned that.”
“Have you?” he asked, pulling her close before shuffling her sideways across the floor in a fast two-step.
“Indeed I have.”
He laughed, a sound that tickled her insides. Or perhaps it was the dancing, the gaiety surrounding them, as other dancers sashayed around and across the floor. Then again, it just might be that he thought he was going to win the game of wits they were playing. That was a delusion on his part.
Twyla laughed, too.
Leading her back two steps and then sideways, he said, “Aw, Twyla, indeed you have not.”
There was so much more meaning behind his statement, her feet faltered, and if not for Forrest she would have tripped and fallen all the way to the floor. His hold increased, keeping her upright and dancing.
Peeved by both his hold and his attitude, Twyla planted her heels on the dance floor, bringing them both to a stop. To her dismay, the music stopped at that exact same moment. She chose to consider the timing as luck. She’d been about to tell him the game hadn’t even started yet, this one that he’d challenged her to, and was thankful she hadn’t spoken those words. They’d have carried loudly through the silent room, and she certainly didn’t want anyone else to know about the game they’d always secretly played.
