Yet here he was. Holding her hand like he had every right. Looking at her like he was never going to let her go.
None of it made sense to her. Yet, she didn’t care.
Which was out of character for her. She’d been a second-guesser from way back. She could overthink whether to buy blue cheese or balsamic vinaigrette. She once spent the better part of a week exploring the pros and cons between two used cars she was debating buying. In the end, the decision had been taken away from her when one of the cars sold. She was the type of person who had to know why things were happening the way they were.
Lark was the impulsive one. She was the analyst.
So the fact she was letting Grayson hold her hand simply because it felt good and without trying to figure out his reasons was an unusual occurrence.
“I thought you were mad at me,” she said softly, wanting to kick herself for immediately bringing up what she’d done.
The corners of Grayson’s mouth twitched. “I got over it.”
His fingers tightened around hers, and the simple pressure shot through her body like an electrical current. She sucked in a shaky breath.
She recalled his cousins sharing all the details and stories of the Storm legend at book club. How everyone in the family supposedly fell hopelessly in love at first touch.
The stories had been wildly romantic, if a little far-fetched.
Now, though, they didn’t seem ridiculous at all. Because ever since Grayson had taken her hand, something inside her felt settled. It was as though her heart recognized him before her brain got the message.
“Come on.” He led her to the dance floor as Wren sought to calm the butterflies in her stomach. Unbeknownst to Grayson, he’d given her the first kiss she’d ever had that didn’t thrust her immediately into gut-wrenching panic.
And now? Now, he was going to be her first dance as well.
The deejay was playing a slow song. Couples swayed beneath strings of white twinkle lights while laughter drifted through the community center.
The moment Grayson wrapped his arms around her, every nerve in her body relaxed and she felt…safe.
The word came instantly.
She placed her hands on his shoulders, and he pulled her closer, his large hands resting on her back in a way that made her feel cherished. She’d felt the same way that night in the hotel when he kissed her.
They moved together slowly, swaying in time to the song, and in some ways, it felt as if they’d done this a hundred times before. She lifted her head from where it rested on his chest, glancing up.
Grayson’s gaze met hers, connected, never left.
For several moments, neither of them spoke. They didn’t need to.
Eventually, he lowered his lips to her ear again. “You feel it too, don’t you?”
A shiver danced down her spine. “Feel what?” she whispered.
His eyes locked on hers. “You know what.”
She didn’t bother pretending again. She’d spent too much of her life hiding and she was sick of it. “I feel it,” she confessed.
The smile that spread across his face stole her breath. Because it was so warm, so genuine. Her words had made him happy, and he was letting her see just how much.
“Good,” he said, as they continued dancing.
“Grayson?”
“Yeah, little bird?”
God, what that nickname did to her. Her nipples tightened and her pussy clenched. She fought to push those sensations aside so she could say what she needed to say.
“I’m sorry.”
