She held his gaze with those gray eyes, steady and unhurried, and he watched her take in the whole scene. He played his part the same way she’d played hers that night that felt like a lifetime ago.
“You’re late,” he said. “I almost gave up on you.”
“Traffic was a nightmare. Forgive me?” She remembered what he’d said that night.
He remembered her response, too. “I haven’t decided yet.”
The woman looked at Fallon, looked at Isaac, and did the math. “Oh. You two are?—”
“We are,” Fallon said. She turned to the woman with a smile that was polite and final. “Thanks for keeping him company.”
The woman collected her clutch and her dignity and moved on. Fallon watched her go, then turned back to Isaac. The smile on her face was warm, but her eyes promised a conversation later.
“She was telling me about marble,” Isaac said.
“I’m sure you found it absolutely fascinating.” She tilted her head. Amusement shone in her eyes. “You going to stand here all night, or are you going to ask me to dance?”
He set his bourbon on the bar. “Dance with me.”
“My pleasure.”
He led her onto the floor and pulled her into a frame that fit the way it had always fit, his hand against her waist, her hand on his shoulder. The band was playing something slow with strings, and the crowd around them was doing what crowds at these events always did: circulating, performing, pretending to care about whatever cause had brought them here.
None of it touched them.
“Nice dress,” he said.
“I keep one in the van.”
“You keep a dress in the command van?”
“A girl should always be prepared to make an entrance. You know, in case the boys get into trouble they can’t get themselves out of.”
He laughed and turned them on the floor, smooth and easy, and for a few bars they just moved together without talking. His thumb traced a slow line against the fabric at her waist, and she leaned in closer than professional distance required.
“You know,” he said, “the next time I put on a tuxedo, it’ll be for our wedding.”
“Two weeks.” Her fingers tightened against his shoulder. “You nervous?”
“Terrified.”
“Liar.”
“Absolutely terrified. What if I trip walking down the aisle? What if Ryder loses the rings? What if Ian gives a speech that makes everyone cry?”
“You do know you don’t actually walk down the aisle, right? But Ian is definitely going to make everyone cry.”
“See? Terrified.”
The song ended. Another started. Neither of them moved to separate. The band played, the room moved around them, and Isaac held the woman who’d spent most of their first months together running from him and was now two weeks from marrying him.
“I should get back to the van,” she said.
“I know.”
“The team needs me.”
“They do.”
