“Care for a dance?”
Joshua’s voice breaks through the music. He looks handsome in his suit, his tie undone like he’s halfway between relaxed and rakish.
“I thought you were having fun with Maisie,” I say, glancing past him toward where another one of the employees here stands with her friends, her face flushed.
“I was, but you promised me one dance tonight. Since it’s almost midnight, I’m here to collect.” He extends his hand toward me.
I hesitate only a second before linking my fingers with his. His palm is warm, steady, familiar as he leads me to the dance floor.
We move together seamlessly, our steps practiced from all the Thursday night dance lessons we attended in this very barn. Regardless of the fact that he’d probably rather spend his Thursday night relaxing or watching TV, he was always there. Always willing, even though dancing wasn’t his thing.
The thought makes my chest squeeze. Declan would never do this with me. He’d never step out of his comfort zone for me. Not like Joshua.
I just wish I’d realized that sooner.
“You’re thinking about him,” Joshua whispers.
I tear my gaze to his, struggling to come up with a response. Something less awkward than admitting I was thinking about his father while dancing with him.
But I can’t lie. Not to him.
Not when he knows me so well.
“I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about.”
“You say that, but I?—”
He twirls me suddenly, the movement catching me off guard. Laughter escapes despite myself. When I land back against him, he nods toward an awkward couple a few feet away.
“What do you think their story is?”
I know what he’s doing. He’s trying to distract me from thinking about Declan by playing the game we do whenever wecome to the barn for dance lessons. And right now, I could really use a distraction.
I follow Joshua’s line of sight and study them.
The man looks like he’s wearing a tux that’s three sizes too small, his shoulders hunched, face red from exertion. The woman’s expression reminds me of someone trying to win a ballroom dance competition. I’ve never seen a more mismatched couple.
Then again, I could probably say the same about Declan and me.
“Don’t you recognize him?” I say in mock surprise.
“No. Who is he?”
I lean closer, dropping my voice. “That’s Paul Bunyan the third.”
Joshua laughs. “Paul Bunyan…the third?”
“Direct descendant ofthePaul Bunyan. But it’s a bit of a scandal.”
“What is?”
“He doesn’t like being a lumberjack. Instead, his dream has always been to be a ballroom dancer. It’s how he met Esmerelda, who’s well known on the professional ballroom circuit. She has secrets of her own, though.”
“And what’s that?” Joshua asks, lifting a brow.
“She comes from a long line of circus performers. Trapeze artists, to be precise. Except…”
