“You’re persistent, I’ll give you that,” Gillian whispered as I passed.
“I’m not giving up,” I said. Gillian smirked like she didn’t quite believe me, but she stepped to the side, anyway.
Rowan ended her call, slid her phone into her bag, and checked something off her clipboard. Her shoulders were locked tight, like she’d bolted them down.
I moved toward her before I could overthink it.
“Dance with me.” I held out my hand.
Her brows tilted. “I don’t?—”
“Yes,” I said, my voice soft. “You do. I remember.”
Her mouth parted. The studio. The box step. The way her shoulder had softened beneath my hand. She remembered too.
“I’m not asking for forever,” I said. “Just one dance.”
Her gaze dropped to my hand. Past me, Harvey turned Nellie in a slow circle, and she laughed. Rowan’s shoulder lowered a notch, and she slid her hand into mine.
My focus narrowed to the woman in front of me. I set my palm on the small of her back. She went still for a second, then let the rhythm catch her.
“Left,” I murmured. “Together. Side.”
She followed my lead. Careful at first, then steadier.
“You’re good at this,” I said.
“I told you I don’t dance.”
“Then you’re doing a very convincing impression.”
Her lips wanted to curve, but she wouldn’t let them. That fierce control was there—the lines, the order—but under it something moved.
“I meant what I said,” I told her, keeping my voice low. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Her eyes flickered like I’d said the wrong thing. Like she was already building distance.
So I shut up and held her. I matched the pressure of her palm, light when she needed space, sure when she wavered. It was a simple thing, a box and a turn, but I had the wild thought that maybe this was all love was: one person steadying the other through a beat they didn’t trust yet.
Around us, the town did what towns do. Thatcher swung Joely in a wide arc, more laugh than dance. Holt moved in crisp steps with Calla, both of them pretending not to be good at it and failing. Harlan clapped on the wrong count on purpose with Jessa by his side, making the kids who hadn’t been whisked off to bed laugh and join in. Trace tried to spin Sabrina, and Ridge watched from the shadow of a lamppost, catching the threads that ran through the square like lines on a map.
The music rose and then eased toward its end. I drew Rowan closer. Our eyes held. For once she didn’t look away, so I kissed her. It wasn’t a claim. It wasn’t a dare. It was a promise spoken in a language I’d never been good at until her.
The square went wild with whistles and a handful of cheers. Someone howled my name like I’d just scored a game-winning touchdown. All of it fell away. The only thing that mattered was the way Rowan leaned into me and the sureness of her kiss when she decided to meet me, not just let it happen.
When I lifted my head, her eyes were wide and bright. She didn’t step back.
The band slid into something faster, and the square filled with couples trying to keep up with the beat. Harvey and Nellie stayed in their own orbit, twirling around slowly and laughing like kids.
“Hi,” I said, brilliant as ever.
“Hi,” she said. Her fingers tightened around mine, like she was telling me not to mistake the cheers from the crowd for her answer.
I kept us in the circle but eased the pace, letting the next song flow around us. If she needed out, she’d say so. If she needed steadiness, she had it.
“Your council memo was clean,” I said, because I was me and she was her and sometimes we had to stand in the truth of that. “I appreciated it.”
That won me the thing I craved—a quick, reluctant smile. “I noticed you noticed.”
