Hanging On (Jessica Brodie Diaries #2)(27)

He swirled me, he dipped me, and led me through what must've looked like complicated steps. I knew his movements and body so well, and was so fond of looking into his liquid eyes, that I lost myself to the rhythm and our combined efforts. It was a sweet dream. Or a welcomed spell.

That deep place inside me opened up and begged to be noticed. It was like a homely woman baking cookies deep in my chest The warmth and tenderness radiated through me, unfurling like tendrils of smoke until it filled up each corner of my being.

Instead of shrinking from it in fear, this time I let it overwhelm me, relishing in it.

As I slid my hand up his shoulder and lightly caressed the back of his neck, he came out of his musical induced trance and regarded the difference. In another beat he recognized it. A languid smile curled his lips as his face filled with such compassionate devotion it choked me up. His expression seemed to say: I waited for you. I knew you would come.

It was like I stumbled into a tea party set for two. A tea party he had been waiting patiently at, daring me to find the path myself. Now that I made it, I wondered why it took me so long to get here.

I opened my mouth to tell him how I felt, when he smiled bigger and slowly shook his head. Later.

He threw me into a spin. A Frank Sinatra song came on. We changed our pace to match it and William started taking me through some intricate dance steps. Not only did I keep up with everything he threw at me, but I was still able to add the detail that men always forgot in their broad strokes. We made a great team and the entire dance floor knew it. Most couples cleared to the sides to allow us more room to maneuver. And maneuver we did. I was smiling like a fool. He was smug.

At the end of the song he dipped me slowly, leaning dangerously close. I wanted him to kiss me intensely. I was lost in his arms, my desperation to stay like this playing on my tear ducts. As he brought me up he stayed within inches of my face and smiled sweetly.

“Down girl,” he whispered. He looked at me a second longer, his soft eyes betraying what his mouth hadn’t.

I felt like I was going crazy. This wanting. The needing. The emotions I was feeling were spiraling out of control, but I wasn’t afraid. For the first time, I wasn’t uneasy. And I wasn’t horny, exactly, either. It was something else. Something I didn’t quite understand and couldn’t interpret, but that I wanted to explore all the same. It was uncharted territory, and it excited me.

I was snapped out of my reverie with Denise saying, “He’s my son Tom. I have to protect my family.”

“Denise, he isn’t a boy. He isn’t your baby anymore. Let him decide for himself.”

“He’s all I have left!” she said tearfully.

“Denise, you are being selfish. You are going to force him to choose, and judging by what I’ve seen, I am not so sure it will be you. Let the boy live. She is a good girl. Better than you have picked for him. Let him live, honey.”

William asked me if I wanted to sit down, a little more loudly than needed. It occurred to me he was eavesdropping as well. Denise tried to look busy and was quickly bustled away by Trudy.

William sat down stone faced and had a sip of his Champagne. I did likewise. Tom leaned back in his chair and an awkward silence hung over the table. I noticed then that William had his hand on the back of my chair in an open display of territory. This was new.

Dennis, being no idiot, asked me if I wanted to dance. I accepted gratefully, wanting to leave father and son to clear the air.

Dennis was light footed and capable, but the dancing was a little boring after William’s. I wanted to see what Tom had in him. Chances were he was dragged to more dance classes then he would care to admit.

Back at the table everyone was there and things seemed a little calmer. I gave a speculative look at Trudy, and she barely nodded. Relieved I sat down and smiled at everyone. “Dennis knows a thing or two," I said with a smile.

Dennis’s face turned red. Trudy laughed at him and shook her head. “Jessica, you certainly know yer stuff!”

Was that an accent coming out in Trudy? Hmmm.

“It’s the partner,” I said demurely.

“Horse pucky.” She waved away my words. “Ginger Rogers did everything Fred Astaire did. Only backwards and in high heels!”

Everyone laughed. She continued, looking between William and I, “And you two were better! Pure grace on that dance floor! You looked like an angle, honey.” She winked at me, then looked at William. "And you a prince!"

“Dennis,” William said with a smirk, "take that drink away from Trudy, will ya? She’s starting to talk fairy tales.”

“William,” his mother said formally. Though her eyes were still glassy, she seemed composed. “Will you do your mother the honor of a dance?”

William gave her a hard look before squeezing my thigh and standing. It was about to go down, and everyone knew it. The whole evening would bottom line at the conversation currently headed out to the dance floor.

Oh God! I got an intense pang of fear over losing him. Having him so close, realizing how important he was, and now the thought of losing him; I had to quickly blink back tears.

“When we Davies men see what we want,” Tom said, leaning across the table toward me, “we grab on and won’t let go regardless of the obstacles.”

I gave a sheepish smile, held back the tears, and hoped he was right. When the chair moved again, it was William sitting down, dance over, face a straight mask. I swallowed back fear, waiting for the verdict.