“Shush.” I half-heartedly shove his shoulder. “Yes.”
“That is... incredibly sweet. But I’m fine, Romina. Better than fine.”
He regards Kristin, who’s raising her bouquet above her head, getting ready to throw. Megan and Allison run away from the spectacle. “Not gonna try to catch it?”
“I’m pretty sure you need to have sex first in order to have kids.”
He coughs into his arm, eyebrows high. “What?”
“The dates and chestnuts? Fertility.”
Teyonna catches the bouquet. The room explodes with claps and cheers.
“Oh.” He backs up a step, hand on his heart. “I forgot about that part. I was referring to the whole ‘catch the bouquet and you’ll get married next’ thing.”
I purse my lips. “Alexander, I don’t even have a boyfriend.”
“Darling, if you want one, all you have to do is ask. It’s your turn to do the asking.”
I shoo him aside so that I can plunk my note card into the milk can, then wander to the popcorn bar. I’m still full from dinner—the buffet was enormous—but Alex is observing me intently, which makes me nervous. I have to keep moving.
He’s still hovering at my back when I grab a cupcake, hesitating with it halfway to my mouth. “You’re following me.”
“I’m getting up my nerve.”
“For what?”
Alex sets my cupcake back down on the table. “I believe you owe me a wedding dance.”
He swallows, pupils so wide that I can see myself mirrored in them. Sweat gleams at the hollow of his throat where he’s unbuttoned his shirt, tie loosened.
I’m not the only one who’s nervous.
Relaxing slightly, I offer him my hand, which he grasps. But then he doesn’t move.
“Are we going to dance?” I prompt.
“Uh, yeah, in a...” His gaze slides to the deejay. “You ever think about colors and themes and that sort of thing? I mean, back then? Probably not.”
“What are you talking about?”
The song changes. He says hastily, “Never mind, let’s go,” then captures my waist and tugs me toward him, tight against his body.
“Easy, tiger. We can’t bethisclose.”
“Why not?” His firm hold on my lower back agrees with his question. Then, a rumble in my ear, “You’re so beautiful that it kills me a little. I’m putting you in my pocket next, to take home.”
I blink at a floral centerpiece nearby, the barn fluttering soft and out of focus. I think I am being properly romanced?
We dance to “My Girl,” which I am certain he requested, as we’ve danced to this song before, long ago at the Moonville Fair. The slow tempo is followed by a more upbeat number, one of his mother’s all-time favorites, “Lay Down Sally.” I try to spin him; he tries not to elbow anyone. Lifts me off the ground and holds me close, our heartbeats a rapid clip. I am half delirious.
“Fifty men,” he muses, coiling a lock of my hair around his finger. “They’re going to be jealous when they hear about me.” He nuzzles my neck.
“No neck kissing,” I say quickly. “Not here.”
“So mean.”
Kristin dances by with a giggling Miles standing on her shoes. She throws us an interested look, and it’s automatic, how deeply I blush. Alex is being soobviousabout... whatever this is. I’m not one hundred percent certain what he’s up to here, and I don’t like the idea of other people taking guesses.
