“Oh, baby, you sure did.” Bree winked, and Tess’s first thought was that nobody had ever called herbaby. She could get used to that, but she didn’t want to unless Bree meant it. Then she had to try to suppress a chuckle. Judge Theresa Fairchild…baby.
“What’s so funny?” Bree asked. “I mean besides you thinking you’re going to hog both desserts all to yourself?”
“Oh, you wouldn’t want any of this chocolate prune cake I have my eye on. The old age rulebook says you’ve got to be well over forty before you start eating prunes for dessert.”
“But the chocolate attraction starts as a kid. Just ask Gabby. So, if you work the numbers, the answer to your choice comes out in my favor. We can share that one. Now what else meets your discerning gustatory standards?” Bree cocked her head at Tess.
“Oh, if we’re sharing, we’re sharing the choices too. You need to do some heavy lifting and make a selection as well.” Tess gave her a stern look.
“Okay, what goes well with your decisive pick?” Bree reached out for the dessert menu and made a show of studying it. “Let’s see…would it offend your discriminating palate if my choice was a serving of vanilla ice cream to accompany those prunes?”
Tess nodded her approval. “We make a pretty decent sugar-high team. Who would have thought we could dress up prunes so well?”
Bree laughed. “We’re good, aren’t we?” She flagged their server and they placed their order with a request for the ice cream to be served on top of the cake. “That kid didn’t even blink an eye, so your choice must be a hit with others.”
Tess looked around. “I do see several older couples here. Much older than we are, and for the record, I was going for the chocolate.” Tess looked back at Bree. “Your choice is the perfect complement to the cake.”
The dessert arrived and they each picked up a utensil and dug in.
“Mmm.I’m guilty of doubting your pick”—Bree moaned and rolled her eyes upward in obvious approval—“but penalize me to more. No pardon from prunes.”
Tess couldn’t help but enjoy Bree’s antics. “I’m glad it meets with your approval.”
As they scraped the plate clean, Bree tilted her head toward the music. The sound had switched to music for slow dancing.
“After that dessert, I think a little more exercise might be good,” Bree said. “You up for another turn out there before we go?”
Tess nodded and they headed back to the dance floor. While there had been colored lights flashing to the rather boisterous beat of the loud music they’d been dancing to before, now the lights were muted to a low level that created a soft ambiance. It was perfect for the sentimental ballad that was floating through the room. Bree led them to an empty spot between several couples who seemed lost in the rhythm of the love song and each other. She held her arms open and Tess stepped into them.
Tess had done her share of ballroom dancing with a male partner, decades ago when she’d been learning the dances that were on her parents’ agenda for her, and it had been nothing like this. That experience had been two teenagers taking carefully choreographed steps in a stilted coupling that periodicallyincluded the intrusion of old Mrs. Jennings, an instructor who stalked the room with an eye attuned to any mistakes that might offer her the opportunity for intervention, not always kind or gentle. Tonight was so far removed from that experience, Tess had to pause in gratitude. This was the dancing of movies. Of romance. Of love stories.
Bree pulled her in close, and Tess was happy to let her lead. They were pushed together, front to front, and Tess felt Bree’s breasts and pelvis pushing against her own. Bree’s arms were resting over her shoulders, and Tess couldn’t pass up the opportunity to drop her hands to Bree’s backside. God, she’d never even considered that dancing could be this erotic.
If they kept this up, Tess wouldn’t bet that she’d be able to find the resolve to not end up in bed with Bree for the night. She’d promised herself that wouldn’t happen again until Bree committed to more than verbally putting her off with the excuse that she had other things to focus on, even if their encounters indicated otherwise. But the deep clench at her core only escalated with every sway of their hips, with every push of Bree’s pelvis into hers. All bets were off because Tess’s hormones weren’t listening, and neither was her heart.
“So much better than ballroom dancing,” Bree said.
Tess leaned back a bit and looked at Bree. “Well, considering that your competition included some awkward gangly boy, probably Archibald Bigbucks the Fifth or Sixth if I’m remembering correctly, or old Mrs. Jennings…”
“You poor thing. I take it on as my personal mission to replace those memories of bungling boys and some ancient Ginger Rogers with a little instruction of my own.” Bree brushed a strand of Tess’s hair behind her ear before pulling her even closer. Her warm breath feathered the spot where Tess’s neck met her jawline. The words that followed landed as a heated caress on Tess’s skin with the breath Bree exhaled in a whisper.“It’s all in the hips, so don’t even think about your feet.”
Then Bree pressed herself into Tess’s curves, and there was no doubt in Tess’s mind that this beat the heck out of debutante hell.
“I couldn’t think about my feet right now, even if they were on fire,” Tess whispered back. “And it’s not my feet that are in danger of heat damage.”
“Then we’re doing this dance right.” Bree kissed Tess’s forehead, then the eyelids she’d just closed.
Tess was mildly surprised when the soft moan that filled the space between them came from her own throat. “I’d take dance lessons from you any day.”
“Ah, that’s what this is. I like the sound of that—dance lessons. Better than a meeting.”
“And what other kinds of lessons do you teach, Brianna O’Brian? Because I’d probably take those lessons from you any day too.” Tess stopped for a moment. She hoped that comment sounded more like flirting than the honest declaration that it was.
Tess considered pulling back, then decided she owed herself the rest of this evening, the only planned get-together she even had on her calendar with Bree. Here she was, in the arms of a gorgeous woman and playing yo-yo again. Tess decided she’d face the consequences later if she let herself too far off the usual leash she maintained to protect her fragile feelings. A leash that was like a violin string that sounded a dissonant note of warning when she was in danger of another round of heartbreak.
But she’d never have a personal life unless she tried, and she wanted to try with Bree.
Bree laughed at thelessonscomment. “I think we could teach each other a few things. Let me think…dessert pairing lessons, watching whales in the mist lessons, kissing lessons, and that important bedroom lesson…”
