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“Emma, may I have this dance?” I look down to find Griffin’s extended palm.
The clapping quiets and the beginning chords of the song start to play. With over two hundred pairs of eyes on us now, there’s nothing to do but honor Chloe and Barrett’s request.
I drop my hand into his, and he closes his over mine before he turns to lead me onto the dance floor.
When the woman starts singing, I recognize the song as Kacey Musgrave’s cover of “Can’t Help Falling in Love.”It’s the song that was playing the night of our wedding. I remember Griffin’s arms around me, her clear, airy voice carrying over the chapel’s speaker when he slid the band on my finger.
Griffin’s muscular arm encircles my waist, pulling me to him. His other hand holds one of mine against his chest. I can feel the softthud, thud, thudof his heart beneath my palm. It’s steady and strong, like the man himself. He holds me close as we start to sway.
“This song. It’s from our wedding night. Did you tell them?”
He looks down at me, his eyes caressing my face.
“Chloe asked. She wanted to surprise you.”
Out of all Chloe’s surprises lately, this one is the best.
“You remember it?” he asks.
“Yeah.” I smile. A song about a couple rushing into love, fools as they’re described, but they can’t help it. Likely the reason it was playing in a Vegas wedding chapel.
My gaze moves beyond Griffin, to the crowd of people surrounding the dance floor, watching us. Their faces are a reflection of what they’re witnessing, two people in love. I close my eyes, blocking out everything else but the way it feels to be in his arms. What it would feel like if I could stay here forever. And God, it’s perfect.
A camera flashes against our profiles.
It will look perfect from the outside. No one will know we were pretending.
Griffin’s smooth cheek slides against mine, his head turning to press a gentle kiss against my temple. On the outside, it looks sweet and loving, but to me it feels like torture. This man, loyal, protector, secretly adventurous and up for my silliness, best friend, best cuddler, best everything of my life.
I’m suddenly exhausted. Tired of telling myself that I’ll be okay when Griffin leaves. That telling him how I feel is more terrifying than the thought of him getting on that plane and never seeing him again.
As the song comes to an end, Griffin spins me away from him. At first, I’m caught off guard, a bit unstable on my heels, but when our arms reach their full extension, and my hand pulls tight against his, I feel the strength of his hold. The ease with which he pulls me back in and against his body.
He wraps his arms tight around my lower back, pressing his upper body against mine, nearly bending me backwards. The movement identical to the way we were posed in the photograph from our wedding night. When his mouth captures mine, it’s the same explosion I remember, too, except magnified by a million now that I’m irrevocably in love with him.
The crowd claps and cheers. They’re really eating it up. Griffin pulls me back upright and slowly releases me. The warmth I felt in his arms dissipates and my body shivers as the cool evening air creeps in around me. The next song starts and the DJ announces for everyone to join us on the dance floor.
For a moment, Griffin is still, watching me with tender eyes. As the crowd forms around us, he reaches for my left hand again. His thumb smooths over the inside of my wrist, teasing the sensitive skin there before trailing a path down my palm to my ring finger. He pauses on my gold wedding band, rotating it between his thumb and middle finger.
My eyes lift from where I’ve been watching him stroke my finger to his green gaze.
His stare penetrates my skin, my mind, my heart. It’s like he can see right through me. See my thoughts and my fears. My heart thumping wildly against my ribcage as I fight to keep my shit together.Breathe,I tell myself. But my lungs won’t expand. The feelings I have for Griffin are gripping me so tight I can’t breathe.
“I need to—” I motion over my shoulder, toward the main house.
“Emma—” He starts to reach for me, but I pull away.
“I’m fine. I’ll be back,” I tell him, a wobbly smile on my face.
I have to get out of here before I lose it.
* * *
As I speed walk away from the reception tent, I’m irrationally mad at Griffin right now. I know I’m being ridiculous. He’s done everything I’ve asked. Played his part perfectly. The sweet, doting husband supporting his new wife. But it’s because he was so good at his role that we’re in this predicament. Dancing with him, his protective arms around me, holding me the way he does. And that penetrating gaze of his, the tenderness there. It’s too much.
The real person I’m mad at is myself. For wanting him so badly it hurts. For doing exactly what I told myself I wouldn’t do, fall for my husband.
“Emma, wait,” Griffin calls from behind me. Of course, he would be concerned and come after me. He’s a guy that knows the phrase ‘I’m fine’ means the exact opposite. The sweet gesture only adds fuel to the mounting fire of frustration that I’m feeling.
