Already back at their table, Ouida Mae and Gisele each gave her a thumbs up while grinning from ear to ear.
“You don’t have to go through with the dance,” she said as he swung her into his arms.
He paused and raised an eyebrow.
Her gaze shot to Cody, standing at the edge of the dance floor. “Well, maybe it would be a good thing to go a few times around.” She lifted her chin toward the disgruntled man. “Cody’s lurking.”
“You might change your mind after I’ve stepped on your toes.”
“I’m sure it would be a lot less painful than being manhandled by Cody.”
Simon led her expertly, keeping time to the music and even twirling her out and back like a seasoned professional.
When the music came to a stop, Holly laughed up at him, breathless and flushed. “You undersold your abilities. Where did you learn to dance?”
He didn’t move to take her back to the table, but kept her in his arms, holding her hand loosely, his other hand still at the small of her back. “My mother and father loved to dance. They took me with them on numerous occasions. My mother insisted I learn to dance, saying women love a man who can dance.”
“She’s right.” Holly tilted her head, studying the man. “And yet you joined the military…?”
He nodded. “We have a long line of military in my family. My great-grandfather, grandfather, grandmother, mother, father, my brother and me.”
“Wow. That’s some lineage.”
“We might be a military family, but we also know how to have fun.”
“Thank you all for your service.” She glanced toward her friends. “I guess I should rejoin my friends.”
Simon’s hand at the small of her back pulled her a little closer. “Cody’s coming. I can take you back to the table, or we can move right into the next dance.”
She caught sight of Cody making a beeline toward them. “Next dance, please.”
The music started, and Simon swept her away from the oncoming Cody, moving smoothly in a lilting waltz.
It had been a long time since Holly had danced, but with Simon leading, she was able to follow with ease.
Simon glanced down at her. “So, what’s Cody’s deal that he thinks he has a shot with you, when he clearly doesn’t?”
“In high school, Paul, Cody and I were a little friend group. We went everywhere together. After high school, I went off to college to follow in my parents’ footsteps and earned a degree in biology. When I returned home, our little trio fell back in place until Paul asked me to be his girlfriend. Cody lost his shit. He was sure I’d choose him.” She snorted. “I told him I never felt anything other than friendship for him, but he wouldn’t let it go.”
“Is that why you left Bayou Mambaloa?”
She shook her head, her brow furrowing. “No. I left because of the curse you don’t believe in.”
“Tell me about it. Maybe you’ll convince me to believe.”
She drew in a breath, still moving about the floor to the three-count beat of the waltz. “My folks worked as biologists for the state to help preserve the bayou ecosystem. I worked in a lab, studying samples brought in from different locations around industries on the edges of the bayou.”
When she paused, he swung her out and back, giving her a moment to think of the words that wouldn’t sound crazy to a man who didn’t believe in Voodoo or magic.
“One day, I found a message burned into the bark of a cypress tree near the home where I lived with my parents. It said, in all caps, SECRETS KILL.”
“Messages don’t just burn into tree bark by themselves,” he said softly. “People make those happen.”
“Whatever.” She shrugged. “That night, my boyfriend, Paul, drove into the bayou and drowned. They inspected his car. Nothing was wrong with it. The brakes were functional. It was a clear night. There were no skid marks on the road to indicate he'd dodged an animal or was forced off the road by another driver. He just ended up in the bayou. When they found him, he was still in his seatbelt. No sign of struggle to free himself or try to get out of the vehicle. The Medical Examiner didn’t find any sign of head trauma that would’ve knocked him out.”
“Could it have been suicide?” Simon asked.
She drew a deep breath and shook her head. “Paul wasn’t the kind of guy who would take his own life. He had a good job and made a good living. He’d just purchased a house and was scheduled to move in a week from that day.”
