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And again she smiled.
“You look so happy. I’ve never danced with a woman who looked so genuinely happy before.”
“It’s because I feel genuinely happy,” she admitted. She’d been feeling so low, but with a smile and twirl, Tripp had her heart and soul bursting with joy.
When the song kicked up, only to end, Tripp twirled her, then launched her into a dip that made her squeal. He held all her weight, and before he lifted her up, his mouth met hers.
There, in the middle of the nut fry dance floor in front of the whole town, he kissed her.
Her breath was lost. From the kiss, then from the rush of air as he pulled her upright to her feet.
She was dazed and delighted and all things in between.
Everyone cheered for the band, and Tripp’s hand stayed on her lower back as he led them off the dance floor.
She noticed that those same eyes that she’d been worried about looking at her were in fact still looking, and there were definitely glares from several women, a few of them from the group he’d been talking to earlier. Some of the same ones who’d snubbed her and her pears.
Charlotte wasn’t exactly sure what had just happened, but she had a feeling it was a big deal and just changed everything.
“Looking great out there, honey!” Grammy said, coming up with her walker to her and Tripp just as they made it back to the tent. Only, all the cases of pears that were behind the table were gone.
“Where did the pears go?” Charlotte asked.
“They sold,” Grammy said with a secretive smile.
While they were dancing? Seriously?
“Do you mind if we head home, honey? My ankle is starting to ache.”
Charlotte nodded, checking the tent one last time, half expecting the cases to reappear now that she’d returned. “Of course, Grammy. Let me just—”
“I’ll get everything cleaned up,” Tripp said, as if reading her mind.
There were the table and a few decor items and one case of pears left.
“Are you sure?” she asked him.
“Yes, take your gram home,” he said, and kissed Grammy on the cheek. “Let me walk you ladies to the car.” He picked up the last box of pear jars and walked toward the parking lot with them.
Charlotte gaped after him. There wasn’t a single man in the city who ever showed such manners. Tripp was wearing her down with the “good ol’ boy” kindness.
Shaking herself out of her reverie, she helped her Grammy get in the front seat of the car, then turned to face Tripp.
“Thank you for tonight,” she said. “While I’m not sure I made much of an impression, this is a great event. I appreciate the tent and letting us sell here.”
“Never thank me for something I’m happy to do. Gram is a good woman.”
“Yes, she is,” Charlotte agreed. She was honest and hardworking and the kind of woman Charlotte wanted to be.
“Would you like to come over for dinner?” he asked.
She leaned away to look at him. “Ah…what? Like tonight?”
“No, I was thinking later this week sometime.”
Her frown deepened. “Do I sneak in the back door, or…?”
He laughed. “No, I mean a real dinner,” he clarified. Yet nothing seemed clear.
