Page 77 of The Sweetest Thing
Like him and Tansy. He was running toward her, full speed without any road map to guide him. He’d skipped the dance the last year or two but there was no way he’d miss tonight. Dancing with Tansy meant having her back in his arms.
Thankfully, their father was nowhere to be found when they got home, so he couldn’t ruin their good mood.
Dane showered, shaved and spent too long staring at the contents of his closet. Something other than his usual Texas Viking Honey shirt was in order. A blue button-down, some new jeans and his polished boots. He brushed out his hair, twisted it back and tugged it through a hair tie. “That’s as good as it’s going to get.”
He headed next door and knocked on Leif’s bedroom door. “Leif?”
No answer.
He knocked and opened the door, bracing himself for the disaster inside—the room was spotless. No clothes on the floor. No trash. Even his bed was made. He smiled, pulling the door shut behind him, and headed downstairs. There was a note propped on the kitchen table.
“Went on ahead. You were in the shower.”
Dane didn’t have to guess who’d picked him up. He didn’t blame his little brother for wanting to spend more time with Kerrielynn.
Twenty minutes later, Dane was parked and walking across the fairway of booths and carnival games to the back of the fairgrounds. He smiled and waved at familiar faces but didn’t pause long enough for a full-blown conversation.
“Hey. Who are we looking for?” Everett asked, clapping him on the shoulder. “Leif?”
If he told Everett he was looking for Tansy, he’d never hear the end of it. He nodded.
“I haven’t seen him.” Everett sighed. “Things any better?”
“We’re getting there.” Dane hoped his father realized how hard Leif was trying. This whole military school nonsense might disappear. And if it didn’t, then Dane and his father were going to have one hell of an argument.
“Looks nice, doesn’t it?” Everett pointed at the dance floor.
Strings of painted paper lanterns and strands of gold-and-white lights zigzagged over the concrete slab. Wooden picnic tables skirted three sides, offering plenty of seating for the people gathered. On the far side, the band was playing something lively and carefree. Only a few couples were dancing but it was early yet.
“I’d say it looks more than nice.” Van Kettner shook both their hands. “Evening, boys.”
“You’re looking all spruced up.” Dane glanced at the older man. Starched slacks, a crisply ironed white shirt and his hair done just so. Dane only hoped Camellia Hill appreciated the man’s effort. However... “Is that a bolo tie?”
Van reached up to adjust the oversize decorative turquoise clasp, then smoothed the two braided leather cords hanging down his chest. “Why, yes, it is.”
Dane and Everett exchanged a look. Dane never considered a bolo tie a good idea. But this bolo was especially bad. The turquoise ornament was massive and the end of each braided leather cord was capped with a large ball.
“That’s a...statementpiece.” Everett eyed the bolo.
“Sure is.” Dane wasn’t sure this was the sort of statement Van wanted to make. Still, if Van felt good wearing it, that was what mattered.
“You got your dancing shoes on?” Everett asked. “Watch out, my father tires out pretty quick and my mom’s not the shy sort. She loves to dance and won’t hesitate to drag a partner out on the floor.”
Van chuckled. “Your mother is light on her feet. I’ve always enjoyed dancing with her.”
“Good, she’s coming up behind you.”
Sure enough, Violet Taggert was headed their way. She was with Ida Popplewell and Camellia Hill. Dane smiled at the adoration all over Van’s face.
“Miss Camellia looks nice,” Dane murmured.
“Pretty as a picture,” Van agreed. “But then, she always does.”
Dane and Everett exchanged another look.
“Three handsome gentlemen,” Violet said. “And three charming ladies. You know what this means?” She paused. “A dance.”
“Where’s Dad?” Everett asked, laughing.
