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She watches me and Cole with a wistful smile. “You really are quite lovely, my dear. He’s finally met someone ambitious enough for him.”
“Thank you,” I say, unsure why she seems sad about that.
Jaqueline shifts her focus to Cole. “I do wish you’d stop playing games with your father long enough to see what’s under your nose.”
Cole’s gaze finds mine. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, brushing my earring as he does.
“Maybe I’m trying to,” he says.
My heart flutters like a caged bird.
Is he saying that to fool his mom? Or does he really mean it?
Cole stands and offers a hand to his mom. “Care to dance?”
“Oh, pssh,” Jaqueline waves him off. “The dancing is how we lure you young people to these things. I’m enjoying being off my feet for a bit. Ask your fiancée.”
This time when she saysfiancée, there’s no skepticism in it. I like having her approval more than I should.
Cole offers me his hand and his smile.
I give him mine in return and let him pull me onto the dance floor.
It’s a slow song, and Cole’s a surprisingly graceful dancer. He’s good enough that I don’t need to be. I relax into his arms, grateful for the moment of peace. My rainbow skirts brush against his black pants. We’re different as can be, and yet I’ve never fit with anyone as well as I fit with Cole.
The thought is lovely and unnerving at the same time.
“I’m sorry about my mother giving you the third degree,” Cole says under his breath. “She hasn’t done that to any of my dates since...”
“Since?” I prompt.
“Since Bridget,” he says.
I can’t tell if that’s a good omen, or a bad one.
“Maybe she thinks this is real, then,” I say.
“Maybe,” Cole says. His face is inscrutable as he spins me out. My skirts fly around me in a dazzling swirl of color. I feel like a princess at a ball.
When Cole reels me back into his arms, we have too much momentum, and I catch myself against his chest, laughing.
I want to kiss him so badly it’s moved beyond desire to yearning. I want to claim him, hold on to him, but I don’t have that right. This is just pretend.
Like Cinderella at the ball, pretending she belonged.
An answering heat flickers across Cole’s face, and he pulls me tighter against him. I want to give in to the escape his hands promise. But I need to keep some boundaries up.
“Should we go back to your mom?” I ask. “What if your dad comes by?”
“My mom’s chatting with two of her best friends. And my dad left early,” Cole says. “Possibly because I had the seating chart rearranged to put him by some people he can’t stand.”
“Cole,” I scold.
He grins, unrepentant. “It means we can spend the rest of the night enjoying ourselves.”
I tilt my head back, smiling up at him. “Why do I get the feeling your version of enjoying ourselves involves something wicked?”
He laughs. “Not wicked. But we might be breaking a rule or two.” He leans down and whispers, “You in?”
