Christ, I need to get hold of myself!
“Alright, ladies, are you ready?” Elena calls out, turning her back to us and lifting the bouquet over her head. “Whoever catches it will be next in line. Good luck!”
I try not to glance at Dante as he walks away but I can’t help myself, and my eyes follow him. His black hair is tousled, catching in the evening light as he strides away. His shoulders move, so broad and strong, something that seems to be a signature of the Rossi brothers. They’re all so big and strong, but none of them draws my attention the way Dante does. Christ, I never thought I would find a thirty-five-year-old man attractive, but Dante seems to tick all the boxes. Suddenly, our fifteen-year age gap doesn’t seem to matter. He’s just so freaking hot.
Tonight, he’s wearing a black jacket that fits his broad shoulders so perfectly, paired with dark dress pants that emphasize his long legs. I know I should stop staring, but I can’t pull my eyes from him. Can’t stop wondering what it would feel like to be in a closed room with him, feeling his touch on my skin.
“Here it comes!”
I probably wouldn’t know what to do alone with him, but something about the molten gold in his eyes and that smirk on his lips tells me that he’d know exactly what to do. That's if hewants me as much as I want him. Bet he doesn't. To him, I'm just a friend. A sister-in-law. Nothing more.
He must sense my eyes on him because he suddenly stops and turns around.
Oh shit!
I flush, spinning away so he doesn’t catch me staring, when something smacks me right in the face. “Ouch!” I reach up instinctively, fingers closing around something soft even as the smell of flowers hits my nose. A cheer roars from the crowd, and it takes me a second to make sense of what’s happening.
Slowly, I glance at the item in my hands, and my eyes widen in panic when I spot Elena’s bouquet. I look up to find my sister grinning down at me.
“You caught it, Gia,” she beams.
“What? No, I mean…” I glance at the bouquet of white flowers, shaking my head even as I refuse to accept the reality of what this means. No, the bouquet toss thing is just a myth. Right? “I…I didn’t catch it.”Rather, it caught me.Completely off-guard, too.
“I guess you’re getting married next,” Sofia says from behind me, putting her hand on my shoulder. I turn to her.
“No, I’m not getting married,” I laugh without mirth. “Like, who gets married at twenty? Here, you take it!” I pass the bouquet to Sofia, who laughs, raising her hand to show me her wedding ring. I turn around to pass it to someone more hopeful than me, but people are already turning away as the music resumes.
“What’s so terrible about marriage anyway?” Sofia asks with a laugh when she spots the horrified look on my face.
“That’s not what you were saying a few months ago,” I point out. “You didn’t even want to get married at first.”
“True, but then I fell in love with Matteo, and everything changed. Once you find someone you love, you’ll want it just as badly.”
I already have, I think.
“Maybe,” I say instead, lifting the bouquet to stare at it. “It’s not going to happen any time soon anyway. Not until I’m willing to quit dancing.”
"Ballet dancers get married, too."
“They don’t unless they’re willing to give up their career by tying themselves to someone. I’ve seen so many dancers swear marriage won’t affect their careers, only to quit ballet shortly after their wedding.” I shake my head, unwilling to entertain the thought. “I won’t risk my career and become a victim of my marriage. No, I’ll always choose ballet first.”
I lift my gaze back to Sofia to find her staring at something over my shoulder, so I turn and follow her gaze, flushing when I spot Dante standing behind me. For a second, I panic at the thought that he might’ve heard my words...but then again, I shouldn’t care whether or not he did.
We’re just friends.
Still, something dark and intense swirls in his eyes as he watches me, sending a shudder down my back. For a moment there, I question whether he's perhaps affected by my words, but then a smirk tugs at the edge of his mouth as he steps forward.
“I’m here to claim my dance,” he tells me, tossing a charming smile at Sofia before turning to look at me. "You'd better be ready, Gia. I'm the best dancer of the Rossi brothers."
From the corner of my eye, I catch Sofia laughing as she disappears into the crowd, leaving me alone with my friend, crush, and in-law all bundled into one. I offer Dante a smile as he steps in front of me. “Count yourself lucky then. I am the best dancer of the Marino sisters.”
“Let’s put that to the test, shall we?”
His hand closes around mine and I'm spun around before he turns me to face him. His eyes stay locked on mine as his other hand finds my waist. A jolt of electricity courses through me. I feel the smooth texture of his jacket beneath my fingertips as I grip his shoulders, soaking up the warm and familiar scent of his cologne, a blend of woods and spice. So comforting, yet undeniably masculine.
His arm wraps around my back, pulling me closer, and I feel the heat of his body against me, working to light a ravenous forest fire under mine. The heat only seems to grow more intense when we begin to dance, slow and deliberate, moving with the music.
And then the world melts away, and it’s just us.
