Page 70 of Meet Me on Greenwood

"I'm going to smoke," I said. I didn’t smoke, but I doubted Larry knew that.

"I'll come with you," the woman offered.

"I won't be long."

I didn't wait for her response. I moved through the room, following the path Gema had taken toward the back corridor, telling myself I was only going to make sure it was her. That I only wanted to confirm it. That I had no particular plan beyond that.

The music changed before I reached the doorway. Something fast and quick in tempo. Standing at the edge of the room, I locked eyes on her immediately.

Gema laughed as Rita worked to show her the steps, but she was too stiff. She needed to relax her shoulders, I thought, but it was cute watching her try. I’d been staring for so long, I didn’t notice when a young fair-skinned woman with freckles asked me to be her partner.

I turned back just as the dance instructor held Gema’s hand high in the air.

"I have a partner already," I told the freckled woman, and as if compelled, I walked to Gema’s side.

"I’ll dance with her," I said. Gema turned, wide-eyed

"Marvelous!" the instructor clapped. "Now don’t rush it," she said, whistling once to gather the room’s attention. "The Slow Drag isn’t about fancy footwork. It is about feeling the music. Gentlemen, keep your partner close."

Gema sucked in a breath as I placed a hand on her waist. She didn’t pull away, but she wouldn’t meet my eyes, preferring instead to focus on our feet.

"Left foot forward… now bring the other in and let it drag along the floor," the instructor said. nodding toward the pianist who settled into a low blues rhythm. "That’s it. Step… drag… step… drag. Let your hips follow the music and keep your steps small. If you’re lifting your feet, you’re doing too much."

Gema stepped on my foot with her heel.

"Sorry!" she said quickly.

We resumed and a moment later. She stumbled into me and I caught her, both hands on her waist. My heart hammered against my chest. How did she have this effect on me? I wanted to run my hands through her hair, and feel her curls between my fingers.

I swallowed, and brought my hand up to her chin, my thumb resting just beneath it, tipping her face upward until there was nowhere left for her to look but at me. She didn't pull away. That, more than anything, was what undid me—not the tilt of her chin in my hand, but that she let it stay there, if only for this moment, if only for me. As her gaze met mine, I knew I was lost. Never had I been so taken with a woman.

"Keep your eyes on me," I whispered. "Let me lead."

Her mouth tipped upwards, as if she had found something funny.

"Did I say something amusing?"

"I am not accustomed to relying on anyone, especially a man," she said.

"I believe that. Maybe just this once?"

"Only if it is not a habit."

"I wouldn’t dream of it."

Her smile widened, just slightly, and she settled into the hold. It wasn’t surrendering exactly, more like making a choice for herself. We found the rhythm together, her steps growing more certain.

I kept my eyes on her face.

She kept hers on mine.

Around us, the room moved, and the music played. Neither of us looked away.

Gema pursed her lips. "It’s hard for me to picture you in a place like this."

"Why?"

"You seem," she paused. "I mean no offense. You just seem so disciplined."