Page 39 of Accidental Mile High Daddy
Margot took him a few minutes later, lifting Zach with practiced ease and managing not to wake him fully. Matt murmured a quietthank youto her, promising we’d come back to the villa soon.
But then it was just us. Well,usand two hundred odd people that either hated us or didn’t know we existed.
I didn’t let myself overthink it and stood up beside him, offering him my hand. “Your turn.”
He looked up at me, a single eyebrow raised, a little spot of damp where Zach’s head had rested against his chest. “Mine?”
I bit back my grin. “You’re supposed to be my charming boyfriend, right? It’s in the job description.”
“I don’t love dancing,” he said simply, but the corner of his mouth was already lifting.
“Neither do I.” I reached down, taking his hand, and he didn’t fight me in the slightest. “Come on. Let’s ruin this wedding with at least alittlejoy.”
He laughed, not fully but it was there, and let me pull him up and out of his seat, toward the dance floor. “This feels like a trap,” he smirked.
“Only if you dance badly,” I grinned back at him, crossing onto the mostly-empty dance floor and squeezing his hand. “So maybe fake that, too.”
His free hand landed at my waist, strong and steady, pulling me in until I was flush against him. I curled my fingers behind his neck, letting them drift just barely into his hair, my pulse pounding a little too hard at the intimacy of it — but then he met my gaze as he started to move us, guiding me like this was easy, like we’d done this a hundred times.
“I’ll have you know,” he murmured, dipping his head slightly toward my ear so only I could hear, “I’m a decent dancer. I just avoid doing it.”
“Oh, so this isn’t your first time?” I teased, but it clearly wasn’t. He was far too confident with his steps for this to be the first time he’d moved to music with a crowd of people around. “I never would have guessed.”
He laughed, faking offense as he pulled back enough to meet my gaze. “I’ve been to enough corporate galas to fake some moves,thank you very much,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I usually avoid weddings, though. Too much optimism in the air.”
I shook my head, barely holding in the giggle working up my throat. “Right. Got to have the ulterior motive of revenge.”
He shrugged. “And obligation.”
I tightened my grip on the back of his neck, watching the way his breath hitched a little. “You’re being a very good brother,” I said, the words feeling too weighty for how casually they slipped out. “Even if it is because of obligation.”
He hummed his response, his gaze scanning the room once before landing back on me. “Don’t look,” he said softly, his thumb brushing my waist where he held it as he moved us slightly across the dance floor, “but they’re staring.”
I stared up at him, not daring to look away. “Good,” I said. “Let them simmer in their anger.”
He huffed a chuckle. “You don’t want to give them a break on their wedding day?”
I grinned, then, wild, and bright and a little manic, and dropped his hand to wrap my arms around his neck. He didn’t question it — just pulled me in tighter, his hand splaying out across my back, eyes glued on me as I beamed up at him unashamedly and far too sweetly for the words behind my teeth. “I’d rather give them food poisoning.”
He snorted, his forehead dropping against mine. “You arechaos,” he said, but there wasn’t a hint of bite to it.
The music shifted into something slower, somethingfarmore romantic, and neither of us moved to leave. His free hand wrapped around me, resting right between my shoulder blades, not bothering to lift his head from mine.
It was too easy, being this close to him.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice going a little raspier as he lowered it. “I should have said that earlier.”
I blinked up at him, his face slightly too close to focus on. “For what?”
“For dancing with Zach,” he said gently. “And for being so good with him yesterday and this morning. He hasn’t really loosened up like that with anyone but Margot. You didn’t have to put so much effort in.”
My throat tightened. “He’s a great kid,” I murmured. “You don’t have to thank me. I liked it, likehim.”
Matt lifted his head enough to look down at me properly, his gaze weighty, flicking across my face like he was trying to memorize it. His thumb moved again, just gently, tracing a line across the back of my ribs. “Still,” he said. “Thank you.”
I swallowed down the part of me that was screaming that there was something here, forced it to understand that this conversation wouldn’t mean jack shit if we were two meters apart and not wrapped up in each other’s arms because of a part we were playing. “You’re a lot softer than you pretend to be,” I said, smirking just a little, trying to lighten it enough so I could get a grip on myself.
“Yeah, well, don’t spread it around,” he chuckled. “I have a reputation to uphold.”
