Page 50 of The Seven Month Itch
I chuckle. “Why, Emma Douglass, when did you get sentimental enough to root for love?”
“Let’s just say I had a recent change of heart,” she says with a wink. “You’re my sister, and you deserve the fairy tale. I never believed in that happily ever after nonsense because of my parents. But you and Terrence have a real shot at it if that’s what you want.” Silence passes between us until Emma jumps to herfeet. “I can’t do any more of theseFull Househeart-to-hearts. They make me itch. I’m going to the bar. Want anything?”
I can’t help but smile. “Yeah, I’ll take a margarita.”
After thirty minutes, a DJ moves into place behind a set of tables. The lights dim, and the sound of Celia Cruz consumes the room.
“‘La Vida Es un Carnaval!’ I love this song!” My hips sway in my seat to the trumpets.
“That’s wonderful, sweetie. Want to scream that to anyone else?”
“Dance with me? The beat isn’t too fast to follow.” I motion to a small group practicing the steps we learned in our lesson. I stand, but she doesn’t.
She shakes her head. “Sorry, girl. You’re on your own. I need another drink.”
“Oh, come on!” Why take dance lessons if not todance? “What happened to living it up? I need a dance partner.”
“I’ll dance with you.”
I still at the voice behind me.
Chapter 23
Terrence
“Justice?”
I take another step to close the distance between us. She stays silent, unable to face me. “Would you like to dance?”
Come on. Turn around, baby.
As if she senses my silent plea, Justice takes hesitated steps but finally turns. She’s never looked more beautiful. Every part of me is at full attention. Her red V-neck dress has a slit up the thigh and hugs the curves of her breasts. It’s long enough to cover her when she spins but short enough not to trip over. She’s a natural beauty who still takes my breath away.
Damn, she looks good.
The song piping through the speakers isn’t loud enough to mask my heartbeat. Only God knows if she’ll let me dance with her or flip me off.
Justice swallows several times before she says, “Okay.”
She doesn’t trust me. Her eyes play out the conflict between her mind and body. Leaving the past behind her or molding it with the present. There’s no reason for her to take a chance on me, but all of that will change.
The crowd dissolves when we reach the middle of the dance floor. Her rose-vanilla aroma saturates the air with anticipation. I gaze at her, take her hand, and wrap an arm around her waist like it’s the first time I’m touching her.
I miss this.
Being half Dominican, you’d think I’d have a slight advantage in the dance department. Salsa. Merengue. Bachata. All were rites of passage with my grandmother. I took Justice to a salsa club on one of our first dates, expecting to show off my skills. But she surprised me with hers, courtesy of the weekly gatherings at her friend Carmen Rivera’s house when she was in middle school. Dancing is one of many things we have in common, and I pray I can use it tonight to get my wife back.
Her face lights up when I hit her with a hammer lock.
“I forgot how good you are.” She smiles like she did when we danced the night away so many years ago.
I pull her close and leave little space between us. “I’ll never forget how good you are,” I say against her ear.
We stare into each other’s eyes, frozen in time. “Another one?” I’m not ready to let her go.
She fights another grin but gives in. “Lead the way.”
An hour passes before either of us tires. It doesn’t matter what the DJ throws our way. We’re ready for it all. Hot as hell, but ready. I roll up the sleeves of my button-down. Justice’s chest rises and falls, her hair frizzing from the heat. Droplets of sweat drip down her breasts, and damn it if I’m not hard again.
