Page 129 of Freeing Denver
I nod. “We booked it, right?”
He somehow tugs me closer. “But what about our first dance?”
God, this man. He’s fought and killed for me, sacrificed a part of himself to bring me back, and here he is, close to pouting at the idea of missing our first dance.
“Dance with me, Del,” he whispers, kissing my cheek. “Then I’ll make you come so hard every person in the hotel will hear you screaming my name.”
And there’s my guy.
“Fine.” I sigh dramatically. “If I have to dance with my husband, I’ll do it.”
He groans against my lips. “Call me your husband again and I’ll bend you over the bar.”
“Husband,” I whisper, grinning mischievously, and he kisses my neck. “Husband, husband?—”
“Hey,” Taf barks from the doorway, snapping his fingers until we both look over. “No canoodling. Mingle time.”
“Canoodling?” Colt mouths at me, and I laugh.
With Colt’s arm around my waist, we mingle with people we like and those we invited to be polite. Taf is telling a story at the bar, and JJ is laughing loudly. Dante Capelli is with Charlie, both looking equally giddy at whatever Sandy is saying. Alexei Volkov is whispering in his wife’s ear, and she looks less than amused, but it isn’t long until she’s smiling and swatting him away as she laughs. Alistair and Ronan look far too serious for a party, both nursing whiskeys and talking between themselves. Colt’s mom is dancing with Holly and Helena. Danielle and Samuel arrived separately, but now they’ve disappeared. Wesson was beingsocial for most of the day but is now snoozing under one of the tables, full of chicken and all fussed out.
We have photographs up of those who can’t be here. Twice, I’ve stopped by to stare at them—at Axel, my dad, Finn, Alison—and Theo. A photograph of Wilder is there, too, and Holly has cried more than once today.
We’ve lost too many.
When it comes to our first dance, I’m thrown back to a winter in New York when I shared things with a man I should have walked away from. When we danced in a hotel room and confessed that grief had taken root in us and would likely never leave.
When I fell in love with Colt Harland.
As “Die with a Smile” plays, Colt dances with me and sweeps Holly into his arms, and our friends and family join us on the dance floor. With one arm holding up his niece and the other around me, we sing along, and my heart is filled with something I’ve finally learned I deserve.
Happiness.
Whole, beautiful, wonderful happiness.
As Colt takes Holly for more cake, someone takes my hand before I can leave the dance floor.
I arch a brow at Alistair. “Is this your last-ditch attempt to kill me?”
His smile is small. “One dance. The first and last we’ll ever have, because I don’t dance.”
I laugh and let him pull me closer. Resting one hand on his shoulder and taking his hand, we dance, and it’s more than a little awkward.
“I’ve made a decision,” he says, looking anywhere but at me.
“Oh?”
He twirls me, and I laugh when he tugs me close again.
“I can tolerate you,” he says decisively.
I snort. “How generous of you, Alistair Chase.”
“I know. You can thank me anytime.”
My laugh is loud, and I think I spot a flicker of amusement on his face, but it’s gone quickly. “So, you’re going to tolerate me now I’m leaving. That’s good.” He shrugs. “I’m sorry for stealing your best friend.”
He nods slowly, looking down at me. “I’m sorry for making things harder than they needed to be.”
