He fussed a little, and she put him down on his back to look at them with his big, innocent eyes and gummy smile.
“Hey, bud.” Jonah dipped closer. “This will be the last time you’re on a bed with a girl, okay? Until you’re at least thirty.”
She laughed and so did Atlas, who promptly rolled over and tried so hard to crawl back to Pepper, but just couldn’t quite get the action yet.
“C’mere, you.” She bundled him up and brought him back to her chest, her whole body rocking side to side. “Do I have to sing ‘You Are My Sunshine’ or will you let me off the hook?”
He had one little hiccup, then let his eyes close.
“He’s had enough of this hurricane business,” Pepper said. “I’ll just put him down. I think he wants to sleep.”
Jonah agreed, watching her practically float off the bed like the achingly graceful dancer she was. Atlas didn’t even whimper, but stared at the dogs from his back, a little drool on his cheek.
A minute later, Pepper came back to Jonah, and he could have sworn she got just a little bit closer than before. The roar outside was background noise now, about as loud as Jonah’s heartbeat as it kicked up with every second they were this close.
“You didn’t finish telling me about New York,” he said.
“Yeah, I did.” She drew her knees up.
But he wanted more. “Were you sad to go back home when it was over?”
She slid him a sideways look. “I wasn’t,” she said. “And I didn’t go home when I got back. I stayed with, uh, my ex, who was my boyfriend at the time.”
“Oh, yes, the guy you were with for, what was it? Five years?”
“Yep. A long time.” She reached down and very deliberately plucked a thread from the comforter. “I think Atlas’s first word will be ‘da-da,’ don’t you?”
He just smiled at her. “You change subjects like a dancer,” he mused.
“What does that mean?”
“It’s always nimble, a spin away, a little twirl to a new topic, and flutter of your fingertips to wave bye-bye to whatever you don’t want to talk about.”
A smile tugged on her pretty lips. “Doyouwant to talk aboutyourex?”
“Well, she’s…passed away, as you know. So, I don’t. But yours? Is that why you came back from New York? For him?”
She shifted on the bed, clearly uncomfortable.
“A little,” she admitted. “Jonah, it was a tough time. I was hurting from the rejection of the dance world, trying to find my way in a new life, and my guy of five years dumped me hard. The only person who was there for me was my dad—except he’d moved to some tiny community college in a strange faraway land called Destin. But he had this room and a soft heart?—”
“Soft? Marcel?”
She smiled. “Extremely,” she said. “So I decided to start over, here, and I hate to talk…” Tears pooled in her eyes and instantly he could have kicked himself for pressing.
“Then don’t,” he said. “I’m sorry for asking. I just want to know you. Everything about you. I guess I’m just looking for insight as to where you are…when it comes to being with someone again.”
She looked up at him, the tears multiplying to the point where one blink would do her in. Why? Why was she crying? He had no real idea, but wanted to do anything to get rid of those tears.
“I don’t know where I am on the topic of…being with someone again,” she said softly.
“Well, I know where I am,” he said, a loud gust of wind giving him the excuse to reach for her and wrap her in his arms. “I’m with Pepper Broussard, who makes me…”
She inched back. “I can’t wait for you to finish this. Who makes you…what?”
He sighed. “Crazy. Excited. Intrigued. Happy. Loopy. Do I need to go on?”
With each word, her smile grew. “No. You need to…”
