“Yes, I am,” she assured him. “My sister is happy and that makes me…” She swallowed the words that came up against her will.Lonely. A little envious. Sad.“Completely overjoyed.”
Dad’s bushy brows drew together. “You don’t look overjoyed.”
“Youwear heels for four hours.”
“Fair enough,” he conceded, eyeing her. “Is it more than that?”
Why did she have to be as transparent as glass? “It’s nothing, Dad.”
“It’s…Matt.”
“No, it’s not!” she insisted. “Why does everyone assume that? Why can’t a woman be a little bittersweet on her sister’s wedding day a year after some lottery-winning liar made a prom?—”
“No, I mean, it’sMatt.”
“Dad, will you please?—”
A hand touched her shoulder, warm, sure, and strong. “Mind if I cut in?”
She stumbled a little, the breath caught in her throat. Was she dreaming? Was this a fantasy? Could this be real?
“She’s all yours, son.” Her father took a few steps back, his eyes twinkling like he had his Santa suit on. “I think she’s ready for…a better dancer.”
Like it happened in slow motion, Graham Matthew Walker stepped into MJ’s line of sight, filling every sense. He was taller than she remembered, even kinder looking. His moustache was still thick, his eyes still the color of cinnamon swirled in cream, and his chestnut hair had a few more silver strands.
But he was handsome, especially in a black suit with a crisp white shirt and tie.
“Mary Jane,” he whispered, taking one hand and wrapping his arm around her waist. “This is the perfect song because you do look wonderful tonight.”
Somehow, she managed to lift her open jaw. “Matt.”
“As promised.” He drew her an inch closer. “I contacted my attorney in town, and he mentioned this event and…” He lifted a shoulder. “I have a secret penchant for the dramatic.”
“You think? Like a seven-figure check, a long letter, and a promise?”
He laughed, and she suddenly remembered how his laughter came from his chest and his whole big heart. “I like what you’ve done with the place, by the way.”
“Whatyou’vedone,” she countered, still trying to drink in this perfect moment.
When had the attention of a man become perfection to her? About 345 days ago.
Matt smiled gently. “Did you think I wouldn’t keep my promise?”
“No,” she said, and meant it. “I didn’t doubt you for one minute.” Okay, maybe for a few seconds, but she kept that to herself.
He guided her in a slow circle, making her vaguely aware of more than a few eyes on them—including Benny and his ever-present phone.
“It’s so good to see you.” He breathed the words. “I’ve been dreaming about this moment. I must have thought about you a million times. A day.”
She tried to tip her head, laugh at the compliment, and pretend it was just flirtatious and meaningless. But she failed miserably.
“Same,” she said instead. “And speaking of…a million.”
“Don’t.” He shook his head.
“Don’t thank you?”
“Don’t make a deal of it. I’ve given all but a few away and I’m very happy.” He gave her waist a squeeze. “Happier now.”
