“You two better dance,” he said. “Otherwise, the locals will think you’re fighting.”
Bree’s eyes widened. “Is that a rule?”
“It is now,” Gabe said.
Hank stood and held out his hand. “May I?”
She rolled her eyes fondly. “You already kissed me against a wall. I think we’ve skipped past ‘May I’.”
“Humor me,” he said.
She slipped her hand into his. “You may.”
He led her onto the small dance floor. The song was something with a lazy beat and lyrics about second chances. He set one hand at the small of her back and took her other hand in his, moving them into the gentle sway.
She fit against him like she had in the bed and in the hallway, like her body already knew the map of his.
“Careful,” she murmured, cheek resting against his chest. “This is dangerously close to contentment.”
He smiled into her hair. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“I’m still getting used to it,” she said.
He didn’t rush her. They just moved, letting the music and the murmur of Copper Moon wrap around them.
From the corner of his eye, he caught Carmen at the bar talking with Lena, hands moving as she described something, probably the blowback from the Dragons’ hearing. He had a feeling that story was far from over. Somewhere out there, a man named Vic was watching his market contract and taking notes.
But here, in this moment, his world had narrowed to the woman in his arms and the way she relaxed a little more with each turn.
When the song ended, he pressed a kiss to her temple. “Walk back with me.”
She nodded.
Outside, the night air was cooler, carrying the salt tang of the sea and the last faint sounds of the day’s festivities. The boardwalk had thinned; most families had taken kids home to bed. A few couples lingered on benches. A street musician picked out a tune on a guitar near the fountain.
Hank and Bree walked side by side, hands clasped. Their steps fell into sync without trying.
“So,” he said. “A warehouse?"
She chuckled. "Yeah."
He said. “We still have to look at the warehouse in daylight. Talk to the mayor. Find a decent electrician. Convince my family I haven’t lost my mind.”
“Meet my parents,” she added quietly. “Tell them I’m not running from my grief anymore, I’m carrying it somewhere new.”
He squeezed her hand. “When you’re ready, I’ll be there.”
She stopped walking and looked up at him, eyes reflecting boardwalk lights.
“You know you just promised to meet my entire complicated life, right?” she said. “Not just the painter who likes your bike.”
“I’ve seen enough pieces to know I want the whole picture,” he said. “Bryn and all.”
Her throat worked. “You say her name like it doesn’t scare you.”
“It doesn’t,” he said. “Seems like disrespect not to.”
She stepped closer, free hand coming up to rest on his chest. “You’re not an easy man, Hank James,” she said. “You’re stubborn and bossy, and you make terrible puns when you’re tired.”
