As always his baritone was even sexier when amplified by a mic, and Claire enjoyed the shiver that danced across her shoulders. An elderly woman called out, “Good evening, Tai!”and everyone laughed. The hall had no stage, so instead Tai slowly walked the length of the dance floor, giving everyone a chance to spot him.
“Thanks, Eleanor,” he said, and laughter rippled again. “I was about to say, but you already proved it— I think everyone here tonight already knows me, but in case not, I’m Tai Kristiansen, Director of Fundraising for Josie Strong. Welcome to our favorite event, a night where we get to say thanks for the donations y’all have consistently given throughout the year.”
He spoke for about fifteen minutes, sharing the foundation’s goals: those recently met, those still being worked toward, and those newly imagined for the coming donation season. He spoke with pride and passion for the successes they’d seen with difficult medical cases, with research and experimentation and real breakthroughs for patients. Meanwhile Claire finished her berry-topped crème brûlée and held his aside when the server would have cleared it along with the other dishes.
“So thank you,” Tai said at last, and Claire would bet everyone in the room felt as if he’d made eye contact with them personally tonight. However he did it, the trick had worked on her. “Thank you for keeping us going another year. Thank you for the difference your organizations have made this year for Renee, Leah, Matthias, and dozens of others. The Josie Strong Foundation gets to continue its work because of each of you.”
Light applause broke out, then grew. Claire joined in, and Tai smiled as the room essentially applauded each other.
“Now,” he said as the applause faded out, “as we’re winding down for the night, please enjoy another Josie Strong Christmas in July tradition. The dance floor is officially open.”
Obviously on cue, a jazzy piano rendition of “Let It Snow!” began to play from a few speakers positioned around the dance floor. Tai switched off his mic and replaced it in its stand, and more applause accompanied him back to his seat.
Claire nudged his dessert plate toward him. “Saved you some.”
“Hey, thanks. I love crème brûlée.”
“I figured as much, Mr. Cheesecake.”
They made idle chat with Darlene as he ate. Immediately after his final bite, he stood from the table and held out his hand. “May I have this dance?”
“You may.” She took his hand and followed him to the floor, where a few other couples were already swaying to “Silver Bells.”
Tai’s arm curved around her waist, his hand settling against her lower back. His other hand took hers in a proper waltz position. Well, shoot. This man knew ballroom for real.
“You can actually dance,” Claire said.
He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Feels like you can too.”
Her free hand had instinctively gone to his shoulder. Busted. “When I was a kid, I took lessons for a minute.”
“Fast learner.”
Claire laughed as they swept across the floor, past couples who were, in comparison, hardly moving. Her feet remembered, but more than that… She wasn’t following Tai as the waltz required her to. She waswithTai. Their bodies had synced somehow.
“Um, are we just dancing, or are we…?”
“It sounds like a human punk band,” Tai said.
“What does?”
“‘Bloodbound Dancing.’”
She laughed so hard she nearly missed a step. But she didn’t miss. They were together, and when his heart gave a happy beat, hers did too. “Silver Bells” ended, and “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year” began.
Tai grinned. “Another waltz.”
The tempo of this one was notably faster than the last. Claire relished their speed as they danced along the edges of the floor, leaving the center open for the humans to sway and step within self-contained squares.
“I don’t know how women—even vampire women—do this in heels,” he said.
“If I were in flats, I’d be walking on my skirt.”
More couples had joined them on the floor. The next song was a distinctly Latin take on “All I Want for Christmas is You.”
Tai’s eyes flashed, and one of his dark eyebrows lifted. “Any chance you learned the salsa?”
Before Claire could answer, his hand slid up her back to rest between her shoulder blades. Her body responded to his shift in position, shoulders and hands, knees and hips, and she didn’t have to think as they moved together, as she spun to the end of his arm and back toward him. A professional dancer would no doubt have critiques to offer, but Claire didn’t care. What mattered wasn’t technical expertise but rather the delight of her body and Tai’s in such artful harmony. His hand slid under her thigh to bring her leg up toward him. She skimmed her palms down his chest. They kept the dance G-rated with only a tease of heat, and when the song ended, they stood in pose for a moment, looking into each other’s eyes.
