“Mutual dragon slayage. That’s definitely going in the playbook.”
He reached over and caught her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. “I think we need to revise that playbook when we get back to Austin. Some things have changed since you first came up with it.”
“Such as?” Taylor asked.
“All those end dates have to go.” He brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed the back of it. “I don’t want this to end.”
Her heart lurched in her chest, a mixture of excitement, anticipation, and fearful hope surging through her.
“I don’t want it to end either,” Taylor said in a soft voice.
They pulled in next to Darwin’s car at the Iron Mike Conference Center on Fort Bragg. When they walked inside, Taylor couldn’t contain her gasp. The decorator had transformed the banquet hall into a tasteful, sophisticated tribute to the Army, with black and gold silk bunting and tablecloths, and a dance floor that had the Army’s emblem projected onto the center of it. It was the perfect setting to celebrate her dad’s birthday.
As the guests started to file in, Taylor braced herself for the good-natured ribbing about Colonel Powell’s “wild child” from her parents’ friends. She’d expected at least a few questions about the viral video with Craig, but instead found herself fielding multiple inquiries about her relationship with Jamar. Her date, to his credit, took it all in stride, even signing a few autographs.
“I don’t appreciate you being more popular than I am at my own dad’s birthday party,” she said, resting her head against his chest as they rocked back and forth to an old ballad from the ’70s.
“That’s because you’re doing this celebrity dating thing all wrong.”
She looked up at him. “How should I be doing it?”
“You should use me to get stuff out of people.” He tipped his head toward a group of men standing near the open bar. “Take that guy who came over about a half hour ago.”
“The one with the Bluetooth speaker hanging from his ear like it’s 2005?”
“Yep, that one. He would have paid fifty bucks for my autograph and a selfie. Easy.”
Taylor burst out laughing. “No way!”
“No doubt,” Jamar said.
“First of all, what makes you think that? And secondly, why would you charge someone for an autograph?”
“Iwould never charge someone for an autograph. I was only pointing out thatyoucould if you wanted to play my celebrity to your advantage. And I know he’d do it because he has a Chicago Bears tie pin and phone case, and he’s come over to talk to me three times already tonight.”
“Well, next time I’ll set up an autograph booth,” Taylor said with a laugh. She hooked her arms around his neck. “For now, I’ll bask in the knowledge that every woman—save for my mother, of course—is jealous that I’m here with you.”
His brow arched. “Even your sister?”
“Hell yes. Chester is all right, but he’s no Diesel Dixon.”
She felt his deep chuckle reverberating through his chest.
As they swayed to the music, Taylor tried to figure out exactly what she was feeling. It took her a moment to recognize it as contentment. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d experienced anything close to this, especially when surrounded by people who never missed the opportunity to throw some of her ill-advised teenage antics in her face.
Being cocooned in Jamar’s embrace provided a sense of peace she desperately needed, his presence making this trip home not only bearable but also enjoyable.
The party lasted until midnight, with much of the crowd remaining until the very end. Taylor was beyond relieved to learn that the same company that had furnished the decorations was in charge of cleaning up the mess now that the festivities were over.
Her mother had planned a postparty brunch for tomorrow, but Taylor and Jamar’s early afternoon flight out of Raleigh would require them to leave by nine in the morning. Which was why they said their goodbyes to both her sister’s and brother’s families, then followed her dad’s car back to the house.
Taylor and Jamar got caught by a red light, so her parents arrived home a few minutes before they did. The two were making their way up the walkway, holding hands like a couple of teenagers, when Jamar turned the Lincoln into the driveway. The Powells waited at the door for Jamar and Taylor to join them before entering the house.
Her dad wrapped his arm around Taylor’s shoulder and gave her a squeeze. “Although I would have liked to have you home for Thanksgiving as well, I’m happy you chose to come for the party. Tonight was pretty nice, wasn’t it?”
“The most fun I have had in ages,” Taylor said. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Happy birthday, Daddy.”
She gave her mother a kiss and bid both her parents good night. They headed toward their downstairs bedroom, leaving Taylor and Jamar to linger in the quiet stillness of the empty great room.
