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I couldn’t help but laugh at that. And it’d been a minute since I’d laughed. It felt good. “Is that so?”
“That’s so.” Marcus looked toward the living room open to the kitchen area, his eyes landing on his wife. From what I’d heard, Ella had taken Savanna under her wing. It was an Ella thing to do. Take care of others. Make them feel welcome and wanted. Never alone. “And maybe Savanna has told me a thing or two since she’s become best friends with Ella and your sister.”
“Like what?” I arched a brow, curious.
“Well, you see,” he started, “I promised my wife I’d zip my lips and not open my mouth about what she told me. And here I am sticking my foot in it.”
I angled my head, waiting for him to remove his foot and just tell me. I needed confirmation. Fuck, I needed a lot of things. That was also part of the problem keeping me away from Ella.
Ever since A.J.’s going away party, I knew Ella was the only woman I wanted. She made me feel things I didn’t know possible.
I just couldn’t . . . get the words out. Take action on my feelings. Couldn’t even send a letter.
What’s stopping me? Holding me back? Why don’t I just . . .? Then my gaze snapped over to one of the reasons. The man who broke me down for over a decade. Years and years of making me feel worthless. A failure and screwup. Unlovable.
My father cut me down until there was nothing left in me but to offer up my life to the military. At least I could do something. Be useful somehow. Make a difference.
“You’re not going to tell me, huh?” I pressed.
“Tell you what you already know, you mean?” He slapped a hand over my shoulder, then jerked a thumb toward A.J. gathering the room by the guitar and microphone stand, which was more than likely a request from his mom. “Ask her to dance. Pretty sure A.J. is planning to sing.”
A.J. happened to have one hell of a voice. All the men in the family did, in fact.
Deb began rounding everyone up, and she peeked into the kitchen and waved us over.
“Yes, ma’am,” I said with a smile, and Marcus mock-saluted her.
I tossed my bottle in the recycling bin and followed him into the living room. A.J.’s dad was at his side now with a guitar in hand.
Beckett’s daughter’s little hands slapping together was all I could hear as I stared at Ella, her eyes on her brother and dad, waiting for them to entertain us.
“You ready to dance with your husband, Mrs. Vasquez?” A.J. winked at Savanna.
The furniture had already been pushed aside to create space for dancing. Marcus went over to his wife. I was pretty sure Savanna was wearing a dress Ella had designed. White-and-blue flower print.
Savanna looked as happy as Marcus. I really was thrilled for them. I was just a little jealous, too. Maybe more than a little.
A.J. took the lead singing Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Sweet Home Alabama,” and Ella’s mom snatched McKenna from her arms and urged her to dance.
Ella peered around the room, bunching the fabric of her dress with one hand as if nervous. Before I had a chance to move in, one of A.J.’s Teamguy friends snatched her wrist and twirled her.
I turned to the side and took a second to contemplate what to do: knock the SEAL out or sit back and do nothing like always. I supposed there was a third option. Be a gentleman and ask to cut in.
Why in the hell was my first instinct always to fight, though? Right, right. Because I got used to having someone raise their hand to me my whole life. Fucking A. I didn’t need to think about my old man.
Making my decision, I crossed the room. “May I cut in?” I asked, doing my best to remain a Southern gentleman and respect the sailor and Ella’s choices.
Ella stepped back from the SEAL—his name currently escaping me because his hand was still on her waist, and I wanted to break it—and peered at me with her beautiful eyes.
And, of course, A.J. would choose this moment to switch the songs up to something slow. More intimate. A song I knew damn well. I’d listened to it on the lonely nights in Iraq more times than I cared to admit.
Ella didn’t say anything, she just nodded at the other guy, then offered me her hand. The feel of her palm sliding against mine hushed the overwhelming thoughts in my mind. Almost silenced A.J. singing Lifehouse’s song “Everything.” Fitting tunes. Really fucking fitting.
My hands were now on her waist. Her arms draped over my shoulders. We simply moved side to side just staring at each other.
The world fell away.
It fell to pieces.
