Page 40 of Under One Roof

I bite back a laugh then sweep my attention around, noting how others are joining in dancing, so it doesn’t feel like all eyes are on me when I take Griffin’s hand.

His are the only eyes I want on me.

Those unblinking dark pools remain on me as his warm palm engulfs mine, his other hand on my lower back. And I fall into him, easily letting him take control and walk me in a circle, his eyes never leaving mine. It’s unrelenting and hard to breathe with this force between us. Pushing us together.

Both of us pretending we should stay apart.

But we have this. A dance.

A moment.

His feet leading me, and my heart in his hands.

He surprises me into a giggle when he circles our arms up above our head, spinning me around in a move that is not for beginners.

“I never took you for a dancer,” I say, but instead of answering, he swings me around him, his hand trailing over my middle, his fingers skimming along my stomach. When we face each other again, I ask, “Where’d you learn?”

“I was stationed in Virginia. One of the guys on my team was big into line dancing. We used to give him a lot of shit until we learned how many girls he pulled with it.”

“So, you learned?”

“So, I learned,” he affirms.

“Learned to dance and loves to read. Who even are you, Captain Stone? What other secrets are you hiding?”

He avoids my question with one of his own. “How do you know I love to read?”

“Well, the bookcase in the living room is filled, and since I assume Gracie and Logan aren’t readingThe AlchemistorAtomic Habits, I have to guess they’re yours. Hardbacks, too. That means you’re a reader for real, not just a vacation kind.”

He nods but again offers nothing.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice all the Shakespeare,” I add.

“Would that all women had thy wit and understanding.”

What I wouldn’t give to crawl into this man’s brain for a little while. To see what makes him tick.

What I wouldn’t give to crawl into his heart for a long while. To see if maybe I could stay.

“Which one is that quote from?”

“Much Ado About Nothing. My mom taught high school English. She loved to read. I love to read.” His hands slip from their hold and link at my back, pulling me closer to him, forcing me to reach up, hands clinging to the back of his neck.

This is infinitely more intimate, especially when I can feel his torso expand and fall with each breath. The sunset has painted the sky pink and purple, and with the twinkly lights above us swaying in the slight breeze, it feels like something out of a book. Like someone wrote this moment for us. Like the hundreds of love songs that describe this moment. When a man looks at a woman with sincerity and whispers something to her he would never tell anyone else.

“My mom would send me her favorite Shakespeare with lines or passages highlighted. It kept me connected to her, whether I was in Virginia or on the other side of the world. Or, I guess, in another existence now.”

“That’s beautiful.” I scratch my fingernails over the nape of his neck, the hair there too short for me to toy with, but he seems to like it, lowering his head.

“You’re beautiful,” he rasps, and I duck my chin, overwhelmed by his unremitting honesty and the harsh voice in the back of my mind, reminding me that I’m not good enough. That I never will be.

“Andi.” He tips my face up to his with his fingers under my jaw. “Why are you crying?”

I blink a few times. “Because you’re sweet, and I’m not sure… It’s hard to hear sometimes, is all.”

“It’s hard to hear you’re beautiful?” When I nod, he frowns. “It’s not what you look like. It’s what you are. Your heart. It’s beautiful.”

If I didn’t love him before, I sure do now, and I lean my temple against his shoulder. His grip on me tightens, and we sway in contented silence until I spot Elsa. I temper my voice as I tilt my head back to meet Griffin’s eyes. “Why would you date someone who didn’t like your kids?”