“My parents dance,” he says. “So I’ve seen them do the waltz a lot, but I’ve never done something like this before, no.”
Elroy sends us around and around the room, over and over again. Then we do a round of fox trot, followed by the salsa, which I really enjoy despite it being out of my comfort zone. All that hip movement? Not something I’m used to doing under bright lights. But Brayden and I laugh through the awkwardness, and we’re getting the hang of it by the time Elroy stops the music. At the end of the hour, he claps his hands.
“All right! We’ve got one couple here who knows how to dance together!” Elroy shouts as he comes up behind Brayden and me and puts a hand on each of our shoulders. “Did you hear that—together! I don’t care how good you all may look in the club on your own—you’re here to learn how to dance with your partner. These classes are about synchrony, about chemistry with your partner!” He turns to me. “If your fiancé can’t make this class, I hope you’ll still come back next week.”
* * *
It’s not until we get downstairs that I realize I don’t have a car, and Phillip isn’t here to drive me.
“I’m sorry I can’t take you,” June says, her cheerful expression looking anything but. “Unfortunately, I have to stay here to oversee my staff. Why don’t you have Brayden drive you home? He’s all done for the night.”
Brayden’s cowboy hat is already on his head, and his face is in shadow. “I’d be happy to drop you at your house,” he says.
“You live directly behind here,” I point out. “I’m obviously out of your way.”
“It’s no problem,” he says.
June beams, and I have the urge to throw the orange on her desk at her head.
“So it’s settled then,” she says in a bright tone. “See you later, guys.”
I give her a look as I turn and follow Brayden out of her office and through the store.
* * *
Brayden
Leleila and I walk across the parking lot in silence. Her sister wasn’t exactly subtle in her efforts to force us together, but I’m not complaining.
The sexual tension that’s always simmering between us jacked up a thousand fold when we danced together. When we were learning the steps for the salsa, my dick felt like it was honest to God going to break through the buttons on my fly. Any denials I’d been using that Leleila was just a flash from my teenage past disappeared. I’m more attracted to her than ever.
And she’s more taken than June had let on.
Engaged? Fuck. Because that means…
“So when’s the wedding?” I say casually as we reach my truck, and I open the passenger door for her.
Beneath the parking lot lights, I watch as Leleila’s eyes flare.
“June never mentioned I was engaged, did she?” she asks me.
“She said there was someone else in the picture, but she wasn’t sure if it would last.” I take a deep breath. “She said we should hang out.”
“Crap,” she says in an irritated tone. “She’s meddling in my personal life. I’m sorry.”
I wait until she’s safely inside before I shut the door and then walk around to the driver’s side.
We pull out of the parking lot with Leleila directing me on how to get to her house. When we pull up to a red light, I return to the unfinished subject.
“I don’t think June meant to be disrespectful to anybody.” My gaze travels to Leleila’s left hand on her lap, a hand that seems to be missing the universal sign for someone who’s betrothed. “Is your engagement ring being sized or something?”
She immediately hides her left hand underneath her right one. “Phillip doesn’t believe in ostentation.”
“What’s that have to do with anything?” I ask her.
She meets my gaze as she hesitates and then holds up her left hand. That’s when I notice the thin, frayed red string tied around her ring finger.
“No fancy diamond ring,” she explains. “No ostentation. And I agree with him. We’ll exchange simple wedding bands when we marry, and that’s enough for me.”
