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Mateo studied him with the sort of serious expression of a psychologist during a session. “Where does she think she fits?”
Grant shifted in his seat. This line of questions was starting to venture out of his comfort zone. “We haven’t exactly talked about that.”
“Where do you want her to fit?”
And with that, they had officially catapulted past any question he felt like answering. At least not on a night as perfect as this one. Grant shot his cousin a look. “Am I paying for this session? Should we find a couch for me to lay on?”
Mateo held up his hands innocently. “Can I help it if I’m trying to kick your sorry keister out of this place to greener pastures?” he joked.
Grant chuckled, letting go of some of his tension with it. “Fair enough, but the only place this keister is going tonight is to the dance floor.” He pushed his chair away from the table as the music switched to a slower song. “Excuse me.”
He wove his way through the tables, deliberately avoiding anyone who might try to stop him, until he got to Molly.
He extended his hand, that automatic goofy smile returning to his already tired cheek muscles. “May I have this dance?”
She placed her hand in his. “I thought you’d never ask.”
He spun her once and pulled her into him. The rest of the world, along with all the problems and internal debates, faded away as they glided around the wooden floor under the café lights strung overhead.
Having her in his arms felt right. It felt like here, with her, was where he belonged.
“Hadley was right about you,” Molly said.
Grant raised an eyebrow. “You and Hadley talk about me?”
“Consider it your vetting process. I have to know what I’m signing up for, after all.” She glanced up at him from under her lashes with a sort of flirty sass that sent heat racing through him.
“Fair enough.” He spun her again. “And what valuable information did you find out from your official source?”
He pulled her in, and she rested her hand on his shoulder, standing closer to him this time. “That you’re a great dancer.”
He placed his hand on the middle of her back and, holding her close, he stepped around and around, spinning together, making the world blur around them. “You had doubts?”
“Simply making sure I wore the right shoes.”
He slowed their spin, putting them on the far edge of the dance floor. “And? Did I live up to the hype?”
She gazed into his eyes as they glided in perfect rhythm not just with the music, but with each other. “Exceedingly.”
It might’ve only been one word, but it was all he needed. Right then, in the blurred light of the dance floor, everything became crystal clear.
Chapter Sixteen
Exceedingly. It was the firstword that popped into her mind any time Molly thought about Grant. He was exceedingly gifted at working with the turtles, exceedingly intelligent, exceedingly fun to be around, exceedingly kind.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was supposed to be a colleague. When it was clear their relationship had slipped right past being professional, she’d been willing to settle for a friend. She’d even go so far as to say he was a good friend. But he was never meant to beexceedingly.
Although right here, in his arms on the dance floor as reality swirled around her, “exceedingly” was the only word that fit.
“You know, my mom always told me the key to being a good dancer isn’t mastering the moves.” His eyes locked with hers. “It’s finding the ideal partner.” There was a huskiness in his voice that swept through her, taking her breath with it. As if proving his point, he once again held her close as they twirled in tight circles, their feet making the steps in perfect unison.
Molly was pretty sure there was still music playing and she felt certain other people were still on the dance floor, but all of that had fallen away. At the moment, the only person in her existence was Grant. Her heart thumped in her chest as she focused on his warm, brown eyes. “Is that so?”
He gave a slight shrug, his charming half grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Well, my mom said it, so it must be true.”
Man, she loved his grin. “In that case, what you’re saying is it’s my dance moves that are ideal.”
“No.” His playful tone fell away, replaced with one full of passion. He let go of her hand and his thumb caressed her cheek. Even though they’d stopped spinning, the world still twirled around them. She felt effervescent, as if everything inside her was sparkling. It was quite possible that she was sparkling on the outside too, although she wasn’t sure. At the moment, she wasn’t sure about anything except the magnetic pull between her and the man who held her in his arms. “What I’m saying,” he continued, his adoring gaze fixed on her, “is that you, Molly Lawrence, are ideal.”
