The Memory of You (Sanctuary Sound #1)(39)
“Keeps me young . . . though some days it makes me feel old.” He flashed Steffi a polite smile, then looked away as if he’d been caught shoplifting.
Ryan didn’t look great. He looked amazing. Dark jeans fitted his slim hips and firm thighs like a second skin. His untucked blue-and-white-striped oxford shirt made him look three times as nice as the other men, including Benny, who wore earth-toned collarless pullovers. Ryan’s brown eyes twinkled like the strands of lights around the bar, which made her heart ignite.
She even detected a whiff of some kind of cologne. That was new. He’d never worn cologne when they’d dated, but she liked that change.
“Steffi says Emmy is a hoot.” Claire smiled. “Sounds like you’ve got your hands full.”
“I do.” He spared Steffi another glance; this time he nearly smiled. “Emmy’s interest in the renovation has been the first time she’s been curious about anything that didn’t involve dolls and sparkles.”
“Well, she seems to be rubbing off on Steffi, too,” Claire said, gesturing vaguely toward Steffi’s rhinestone earrings.
The traitor! Steffi’s whole face heated, but she stopped shy of fiddling with the sparkly hoops.
Ryan’s eyes quickly scanned Steffi’s face, earrings, and halter top. With the right bra, even her mediocre cleavage could usually attract a little attention. Sadly, only the slight tightening of Ryan’s jaw gave her any indication that he’d noticed. Of course, that constipated expression could just be him holding back laughter at her fruitless effort to look like a normal woman. To be sexy, like Val.
Benny returned with another cup and immediately started questioning Ryan about his new job, the Patriots, and other things men passed off as good conversation. Steffi feigned interest in the music, although she’d never been much of a Beatles fan. With one ear, she strained to listen to the conversation, aware with that odd sixth sense whenever Ryan glanced her way.
Claire leaned close, forcing Steffi’s attention away from Ryan. “Why didn’t you tell me you’d invited him?”
Steffi shrugged. “I only did it because I felt bad that Emmy left and he had no plans. I didn’t think he’d come.”
“How magnanimous of you,” Claire teased, kicking Steffi under the table. “I’m not an idiot, you know. You’ve been twitchy since you started working at the Quinns’. Now I’m positive of why. You want him back, don’t you?”
Inviting Ryan tonight had been a miscalculation. Benny and Claire would evaluate everything Ryan and Steffi did and said. That thought made Steffi’s skin itch. But another glance at Ryan washed away her misgivings. He had come, after all. That had to mean something, and that was worth being mocked.
“Don’t be silly,” she whispered, an appalling lie. “The guy has hated me for a decade. I’m aiming to be friends again, that’s all.”
“Friends, huh?” Claire grinned while pointedly staring at Steffi’s skirt and shoes.
“Please don’t tease us. If he thinks I’ve got an agenda, it’ll be a disaster. I just want to be forgiven, Claire. Even if I don’t deserve it.” Steffi hoped her pointed stare would draw a parallel for Claire regarding Peyton and steer her away from her suspicions.
Claire patted her arm. “Don’t worry. I think the fact that he’s here means he’s pretty much forgiven you . . . or wants to, anyway.”
“I hope so.” Steffi shifted her position away from the band in an attempt to be part of her brother’s conversation. Ryan spun his half-empty glass round and round on the table, his “relaxed” expression as forced as hers.
When the familiar drum-and-guitar riff of “Can’t Get Enough” tore through the crowd, folks whooped and rushed the dance floor. Energy stirred all around Steffi, making her restless.
“Come on, Claire.” Benny pushed his chair back and held out his hand.
She scrunched her nose and looked at her cane, shaking her head.
“I’m not dancing with my sister when there’s another option.” Benny set her cane on the table. “I promise I won’t wear you out too much.”
He grasped her hand and yanked her up, lifting her feet off the ground as he marched them to the dance floor. Surprisingly, Claire didn’t fight too hard. Benny might not be Claire’s brother, but they were as close as siblings. If anyone could make her forget about the ache in her hip long enough to enjoy the music, it’d be him.
Within a few seconds, they disappeared into the undulating crowd.
Steffi’s knee bounced beneath the table while she smiled at Ryan and groped for something to say. Reminiscing wouldn’t be wise. Small talk felt wrong. How long would it be until she and Ryan could have a casual conversation without layers and layers of things left unsaid distorting their words and intentions? Her tongue seemed to fill her whole mouth now, so she said nothing and bobbed her head to the beat of the song.
More couples rushed past the table on their way to the dance floor until it seemed as if she and Ryan were the only people still seated.
“Should we dance?” he ventured.
She popped off her chair as if he’d hit an “Eject” button, because anything had to be better than sitting there like two awkward middle school kids. “Sure!”
Ryan followed her to the dance floor, where they were absorbed into the mass of partiers. At first, they stood side by side with as wide a berth as possible, eyes on the band, self-consciously swaying while shuffling their feet. It took a certain level of concentration to dodge other people’s elbows and avoid trouncing toes while simultaneously trying to watch Ryan’s expressions using only peripheral vision. But within thirty seconds, the music and energy siphoned Steffi’s tension, giving her the courage to face Ryan.