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“Good point.” His cheeks colored nicely. “I do love it when you take charge. Like how you handled all the details today.”
“I like that you let me.” I meant it too. I loved that this big, capable navy lieutenant trusted me enough to let me take charge of certain things and was willing to accept my help to make things easier for both of us. “We make a good team.”
“We do.” His voice turned wistful as if he was also thinking of that not-so-distant future when we wouldn’t be a team. “Dance with me?”
“Anytime.” I was more than happy to grant him the change in subjects, and I was never going to turn down a chance to dance with Monroe. The easy way we moved together had only improved over our weeks together, dance break after dance break, to the point where we quickly found our way to a slow, sultry waltz.
“Hey, what do you know?” I smiled at him as we made our way around the edge of the dance floor. “Apparently, we don’t need a club jam to get our groove on.”
“We do fit together perfectly.” Monroe beamed back before tilting his head. “Man, this song takes me back. This was Worth’s favorite in high school.”
“I hope he gets help.” I matched Monroe’s thoughtful tone. “He needs someone to talk to.”
“That used to be me.” Monroe sounded pained before turning more pragmatic. “My own fault, I guess. Fleeing for the navy, not keeping in touch the best.”
“Don’t beat yourself up. Doesn’t sound like Worth has exactly been eager to hear from Safe Harbor friends.”
“Nope. But you’re right. He needs something.” The lines around Monroe’s eyes deepened. “I’m worried. I texted earlier, but no reply. Predictable, but I hate knowing he’s in a bad place.”
“We’ll check on him again tomorrow before our flight.”
“We?” Monroe pursed his lips like he wasn’t sure whether I meant the promise.
“We,” I said firmly. “You don’t need to deal with this on your own.”
“I…” Shaking his head, Monroe leaned in for a fast kiss on my cheek. “I’m not sure I’ve ever had a…friend quite like you.”
“Ditto. But I mean it. You don’t have to go it alone.” I held him tighter as the song shifted to a more romantic one about fields, firsts, and forever. Monroe wasn’t my first or my forever, but he sure would be seared upon my memories, coloring everything that came after. If we were a song, it was a wistful lament, but as we swayed, I couldn’t help but wish we could instead be a sappy ballad without a hint of sorrow.
We nestled together, dancing slower, but eventually, the song came to a close, and in a playlist fail, a stupid group dance number followed. We drifted to the edge of the dance floor, where the happy grooms found us.
“Monroe! There you are.” The taller groom, a skinny bald man named Kale, slapped Monroe on the back. Kale had been someone important in NCIS, and I hadn’t sorted out whether Kale was a navy nickname or his given name. “We were wondering where you snuck off to.”
“I had—”
“A business call. Knox told us.” The smaller groom, Eric, an accountant with a jolly laugh, smiled at me before turning to Monroe. “You’ve sure got a keeper here.”
“I can’t wait to make that pasta dish you told us about.” Kale nudged my arm.
“And I’m going to hold you to that pickup game,” Eric added.
“Anytime.” I grinned at them. While they were closer to Monroe’s age than mine, I liked them and their easy good humor a lot. We made some more small talk before the grooms decided to dance, leaving Monroe and me to head back to our table for our water glasses.
“Well. You certainly made quite the impression.” Monroe’s tone held a fair bit of surprise before he took a swallow of water.
“Sorry. Was I not supposed to circulate while you were gone?”
“I love that you didn’t need me to socialize.” Monroe pulled me snugly against his side before kissing my temple. “Your independence is one of the sexiest things about you.”
“Yeah? What else?”
“You’re tall, jacked, and have great hair?” He let out the closest thing to a giggle I’d heard from him, and I couldn’t help laughing myself.
“Flattery will get you everywhere.”
“Including back to our room?” He waggled his eyebrows at me, and I didn’t need to be asked twice before I grabbed his hand. We made a fast exit and raced to the bank of elevators outside the hotel ballroom. A group of bridesmaids from a different function joined us in the elevator, so I settled for merely holding Monroe’s hand tightly.
Once in our hotel room with its big, fluffy king bed, I was momentarily distracted by the bay of glass windows giving an unparalleled view of downtown San Francisco. The city hung glittery beneath our nineteenth-floor room, captivating and magical, and as much I wanted to push Monroe down on the bed, I had to take a minute to appreciate the perfect summer night and the once-in-a-lifetime view.
