“The venue is incredible. You did an amazing job.”
“I had a great partner.Wedid amazing. It was a team effort.”
I want to kiss her right here in front of everyone. Instead, I ask, “Save me a dance?”
“All of them, if you want.”
“I do.”
The Ball begins with Mayor Barbie’s speech (outrageously long), followed by recognition for the firefighters (mercifully short). Our crew stands as our names are called, accepting applause.
Then we take a moment of silence for fallen firefighters, including Dad and Captain Kendrick. I keep my gaze down, but I feel Winnie watching for the pain and pride to war within me, but instead, for the first time, I feel something close to peace.
Dinner service follows. Winnie and I sit at the head table as event organizers, side by side, hyperaware of every accidental touch. Our knees bump, the outer edge of our hands brush, and our gazes mingle.
Oreo is here too, wearing a bow tie that Winnie insisted on. He sits at her feet under the table, occasionally poking his head up for scraps.
“This was your idea?” I ask, gesturing to the dog.
“Everyone loves firefighter dogs. Plus, he’s cute.”
“He’s a menace.”
“He’s your menace.”
Fair point.
The town watches us. I catch Silver Sam nudging Lucky. Grandma Joyce and Judy wear matching, knowing smiles. Peony gives Winnie an encouraging look. I avoid the guys’ guilt trips. No, I haven’t told her about the bet yet, but does it actually matter? Not to me. It means nothing. End of story.
However, everyone is invested in ours. If only they knew how complicated it actually is.
Hayes appears in the squirrel mascot costume, hamming it up on the dance floor.
“Better him than me,” Winnie says, looking relieved.
“Rookie rite of passage,” I mutter when he passes.
He gives me an exaggerated thumbs up.
The music turns to a slow song. Austin dances with his so-called best friend. We’ll see how long that lasts—one of them will fall if they’re not already pining, the other’s heart will be broken. James and Peony sit stiffly beside each other. Scotty looks markedly uncomfortable when Gail Clearwater asks him to dance. Reese is with a woman who looks vaguely familiar. I think I’ve seen her on TV or online, though that can’t be right. Then again, supposedly, he’s been in a long-distance relationship since Christmas. As for Hayes, he’s by the punchbowl, having ditched the mascot head, and surrounded by several women.
“May I?” I offer Winnie my hand.
“You may.”
The moment our palms touch, the rough edges soften, the tension in my shoulders releases, and the restlessness in me settles. I guide her onto the dance floor, my other handfinding the small of her back. Her fingers curl into mine, the other resting on my shoulder. We start to move. She looks up at me, wearing the loveliest smile, and I just know …
The woman fits perfectly in my arms, into my life.
We sway to a slow and sweet tune. For a moment, everything else fades.
“I’ve been thinking about that night in the first aid room,” she says softly.
“Me too. Every day. All the time.”
I’m about to tell her I love her. She opens her mouth like she’s about to confess something, too.
Then Austin takes the microphone. “Before the night ends, the crew has a confession to make.”
