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We’d sat at a table with Thatcher’s mom and some other friends of the bride’s family, none of whom Thatcher knew. While we ate, his mom asked me questions about life as a florist, seeming genuinely interested in my answers.
And in fact, so had Thatcher, even though I had no idea why a Marine would give a flying hoot about the intricacies of floral arrangements.
Mrs. Reid also entertained us all with stories from when her son was little. They were cute stories, and not at all embarrassing. In fact, he sounded like he’d been the sweetest kid on the planet. But he’d leaned over and apologized for her several times, his breath tickling my ear with each whispered word.
But it was all in good fun. Mrs. Reid clearly loved her son to the moon and back, and she wanted the whole world to know it.
When the DJ announced that it was time for the dance floor to open, Thatcher jumped to his feet and pulled me along with him. “Come on.”
I laughed as I struggled to keep up. “You’rethateager to dance?”
He twirled me into his arms, catching me against him with a shake of his head. “No. I haven’t danced since prom, and I’m probably going to step on your feet, so sorry in advance. I just had to get you out of there before her stories got even worse.”
I threw my head back and laughed, my body humming from his closeness. “I loved her stories.”
“It gets old after a while, trust me.”
Taking his word for it, I let it go.
We danced to a few songs, and as promised, he did step on my toes quite a bit. But I forgave him. Whether it was the awkward apologies or the embarrassed quirk of his lips that got me, I didn’t know.
When a slow song came on, I mentally prepared myself for him to hold me closer. But instead, he stepped back, releasing me completely.
I quirked a brow, my lips twisting up into a teasing smile. “What, no slow dances for you?”
“Oh, I don’t know. You wouldn’t want me to get the wrong idea, would you?”
His use of my earlier phrasing had me narrowing my eyes at him, playing along. “And what idea is that?”
“That this is going anywhere, of course.”
Stepping forward, I picked up one of his hands and placed it at my waist, then did the same with the other. Then I linked my own around his neck and pulled him close. “Let’s not think about where it’s going, right now. It’s just a date, right?”
“Right,” he replied, his mouth inches from mine.
Suddenly, I wished more than anything that my thoughts about us being invisible were actually true. I wished we were somewhere else. Anywhere else.
But we weren’t.
In reality, we were just two people on a crowded dance floor, destined to part at the end of the night. And I had a feeling that, despite what I’d said hours before, we were both going to be sad about it.
5
THATCHER
The next day at work, thoughts of Hattie were never far from my mind. The way she’d smiled and laughed at my jokes. The way she’d held me close as we danced. And the way she’d looked in that dress, the color perfectly matching the shade of her lipstick, both of which only made her blushes throughout the night even more noticeable.
And adorable.
I should have kissed her. I’d wanted to. More than once.
But if she was serious about not wanting to see me again, I wouldn’t have made a move like that and risked ruining our one night together.
As I got my stuff together to leave at the end of my twenty-four-hour shift, I thought back to the night’s end. We’d talked, laughed, and danced our way through the wedding, and more than once, I found myself wishing for a time machine to slow things down.
That old saying about time flying when you were having fun?
Yeah, I wasn’t a fan of how true it was.
