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“My two favorite words,” he says, murmuring it softly as he steers me to the dance floor.
“Where’d you learn to do that?”
“When I was younger, I had time on my hands.”
“Must be nice, growing up rich.”
“Some days it’s okay.” He turns me to face him as a moderate-pace song starts. He pulls me close, taking my hands in his, swaying with me in a waltz. I laugh, unable to help myself.
“I see you’re a professional dancer too.”
“Only semi-pro. I retired from the circuit a few years back.” He leans down, speaking into my ear over the music. A chill runs down my spine. “Want to know a secret?”
“Always,” I say, feeling slightly breathless as his body presses to mine. He’s big, broad, and smells delicious. I don’t know what the heck I’m doing with this guy right now, but I’m having fun, which is better than the alternative.
Stewing in my misery.
“Since the moment I spotted you earlier, I’ve been thinking of ways to get you to dance with me.”
“Did any of them involve juggling?”
“No. But a few involved kidnapping.”
“Mr. Crowley.” I slap his arm. “Don’t tell a lady you planned on dragging her forcefully to the dance floor. It’s uncouth.”
“Apologies, Keely Something.” He pulls me tighter to him. “But sometimes, I can’t help myself. When there’s something I want, I lose myself trying to get it.”
I let him leave it at that, tumbling into the dance. I catch sight of Jamila with Bernie nearby and both of them give me shocked stares, like they can’t believe I’m dancing with a Crowley brother.
I can’t really believe it either.
But one song turns into two, turns into three, and soon my plan of ditching him the first chance I got dissipates as the sun sets over the ocean. Nolan’s attentive, his focus turned on me like I’m the glasses spinning in the air before him, his hands manipulating me now. We transition from one song to the next, dancing side by side for a few, dancing up close for others. Jamila and Bernie cut in, Ash and Carson pass through, but no matter who comes and who goes, Nolan’s always there.
We laugh together. We make jokes. I sing songs and he shakes his head as I totally nail the high notes. For a little while, I’m not thinking.
Until he drags me from the dance floor. Darkness fell a couple hours ago. The party’s still going strong and showing no signs of slowing up. Nolan gets me wine, gets himself whiskey, and lets me put another hundred in the tip jar. I don’t bother making a big thing about it this time. “Cool. Thanks,” Nolan says as we head away together, leaning on each other.
We walk toward the ocean. “You Crowleys know how to throw a party.” I glance back at the crowd. “Who are all these people, anyway? I don’t know most of them.”
“Associates,” Nolan says, staring out at the water. “Truthfully, I barely know most of them too. The rest are members of the organization.”
“Ah, the secretive organization.” I give him a sly look. “Ash doesn’t talk about it.”
“That’s good. She’s not supposed to.”
“How boring. What’s more cliché than a mafia family in Boston?”
He tilts his head, studying me. “Mafia is Italian. We’re Irish.”
I roll my eyes. “Same thing.”
“Not even a little bit.” He suddenly takes my hand, pulling me against him. I’m too surprised to yank back. “It doesn’t bother you then? My profession?”
“I don’t think about it. I mean, Ash has Carson, but beyond that, your family doesn’t really intrude on my life too much.”
“What if we did intrude? Would that be so awful?”
I glance up at him. Moonlight shines on his handsome face, his light eyes glowing with starlight. I’m taken aback by the way his dark hair waves from his face like it’s been perfectly styled, though I know he’s been messing it up all night. I chew on my inside of my cheek.
