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“It’s a good thing that I don’t want to brush her aside, then. I’m dancin’ with my woman, Rita. End of conversation.”
She inhales sharply, glancing up from her screen. “Your woman?”
I straighten, crossing my arms. “Yeah, my woman. Tell whoever you need to, but I never agreed to sign off on this shit before. Take it or leave it, but I’m not talkin’ about this any longer tonight.”
“You have . . .” She looks at her screen again. “Seven minutes. Make them damn well count, and then finish what you were invited here to do.”
My damn manners keep me from storming off without replying. “Got it. Enjoy the rest of your night. It’s an open bar.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she snips, but I’m already walking back to the table.
By the time I’m standing at the back of Anna’s chair and resting my hands on her shoulders, she’s finished off her warm cooler, leaving it by the collection of dirty plates that have yet to be cleared away.
She peeks up at me, happiness twinkling in those gorgeous eyes. Unable to help myself, I’m damn near folding my body in half to get a long, greedy taste of her lips. I taste the fruitydrink mixed with the naturally sweet flavour of her and pull back before she ends up hauled over my shoulder.
“Got everything sorted out?” she asks, the words hushed, just for me.
I bury my fingers in the silky-smooth hairs at the back of her head and use the hold to gently tip it back, tempted to kiss her again but holding back. Her stare is innocent to the watchful eye, but it sets my skin on fire.
“Yeah, sweetheart. All sorted.” I take a step back and offer her my hand. “Dance with me?”
Picking up on the song playing, she flicks her gaze to the DJ before looking back at me with a brow raised. “I’m a terrible two-stepper.”
“He’ll change the song by the time we get up there. Don’t tell my grandmother that, though. She makes dancin’ her sole personality trait at every weddin’ we’ve ever been at.”
“I’ll have to ask her for some tips, then.”
“If you want bonus points, ask about the Cadillac Ranch. It’s her favourite.”
“Consider it done, Cowboy,” she says, setting her hand in mine.
I help her up and tighten my grip on her tiny fingers while leading her to the dance floor. Just like I was expecting, the DJ changes to a slower song a beat later, but the sound of my own voice comes as a shock. Anna’s abrupt laugh calls one of my own to the surface.
“Do you think that was on purpose?” she asks, fighting a smile.
When I catch Walker waving at me from the bridal party table, I shake my head, laughing incredulously.
“Oh yeah, it was on purpose.”
“At least he chose one of your best songs,” she offers, the hint of a tease in her tone.
Stepping onto the dance floor, I twirl Anna into my arms, catching her against my chest with a grin. She relaxes in my hold, sliding her arms up and around my neck, holding me tight. The soft expanse of her lower back feels like a gift beneath my hands as we start to sway.
“Are you hintin’ that not all of my songs are good, Annalise?” I tease.
She wiggles her brows. “Oh no, you brought out the full name. Did I brush a nerve, Brody?”
I dig my fingers into the curve of her hip and tug her until we’re close enough to hold a piece of paper between us. Her eyes spark with such pure happiness, and I nearly lose my breath at the beauty of it. She’s
“Nobody brushes my nerves the way you do. I don’t let them get close enough,” I admit.
“Yet here I am.”
I release a breath heavy with the weight of my thoughts and nod. “Yeah. Here you are.”
To stay, if I have anything to do with it.
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