Page 58 of Say We've Found Forever
“But the book said—”
“Wyatt.” She levels him with an even stare. “This baby will be happy to hear anything that’s not my stomach growling for more food. Grab three CDs and let’s wing it.”
He’s trying to follow exactly what the books say, but she’s far less concerned with details. They’re more likely to find a Picasso in this house than they are classical music, so he doesn’t have much choice but to agree.
They all converge in the kitchen where the solar power charges by the window. He plugs the player in and shoves a random choice into it, hoping it’s something decent. What fills the air is an upbeat, soft love song. Something he suspects teenagers would play on summer nights around a bonfire.
He growls in frustration, ready to shut it off. “This won’t promote higher brain functions.”
“No, leave it. I like it,” Addison smiles. “It’s something to dance to.”
Oh fuck.
What has he done?
Emma is already bouncing around the room, not a care in the world. Her dress from the attic spins as she does.
“Come on, can you do one of these?” Addison deadpans, flapping her elbows.
“No.”
“Hmm. Disco?” She mimes the classic move.
“I don’t dance. Was that in one of your twenty-three movies?”
“Matter of fact, it was. How about this one…oh, what was the name….it’s like this.” Her feet slide across the tile floor in a move he recognizes.
“The hustle. I am begging you to stop,” he says flatly.
“Can’t stop. Won’t stop.”
“Ah, hell, come here.” He takes her hand, spinning her twice while her dress ruffles, before bringing her in close.
Her breath hitches, nose near enough that the tip almost brushes his. Hadn’t meant to tug her in that hard, but now she’s here and letting her go sounds torturous.
He doesn’t know a damn thing about dancing, but does a poor imitation of every stupid thing he’s ever watched on TV. Puts her arm over his shoulder and slides away, lets her spin him, and then dips her dramatically. He looks like a complete fool, but he doesn’t care. She’s so damn happy that he’ll be a fool the rest of his life to keep her smile that bright.
“Spin me! Spin me!” Emma laughs.
He obliges. Spinning her so fast she gets dizzy and collapses on the floor in a fit of giggles.
“Spin me again!” Addison follows up in the silliest, teasing tone, her hand out and ready.
“Oh my god. You’re ridiculous.”
“You like me this way.”
“Mhmm.” He fakes a put-out expression but twirls her before dragging her back into his arms.
A slower song comes on, crackling electricity in the air, making his nerves sing, and her pupils dilate like saucers.
He’s not completely ignorant of how people circle each other. He may have been married for a long time and single by choice for long after, but he is observant enough to catalogue her reactions and assume their meaning.
She hasn’t moved away yet, and her lips have parted in hopeful expectation. It all tells him that he’s not imagining it when he thinks maybe…just maybe, she’s interested in him.
The logical, rational facts about this are the easy part. It’s everything else that he struggles with. His own fear of not being worthy keeps him from entertaining the idea further.
Backing clear across the kitchen, he lets her go. “I’m gonna look through the music again. See if we missed some classical.”
