Page 68 of Enemies to Lobsters
Before he speaks again, his dark eyes find mine in the dim lighting. The fact that he can focus on anything but the fox trot is impressive, but he looks like he has something serious to say. His jaw tightens. “I don’t want to scare you.”
My eyebrows draw together. That wasn’t what I expected him to say. What could this man say that would scare me? A half dozen possibilities come to mind, each one more devastating than the last. Curse my overactive imagination.
I sigh. “Just say it.” Put me out of my misery.
“I’m afraid if I tell you what I’ve been planning to say right now, you’ll push me away. I just want you to know what I’m thinking. That’s it. No pressure. Just clear communication.”
His thumb drags across my shoulder blade back and forth while he speaks, reminding me of the night of my lobster rescue. Is Ike about to boil me alive?
“Okay,” I say the word like a question. “You know, you’re only making me more nervous. Out with it, Ike.” It doesn’t help that I’ve spotted Stevie and Marlow over his shoulder,whispering to each other. Stevie looks smug. Marlow is anticipating something. And I wonder if they’re in on whatever this is. “Do Marlow and Stevie know you’re doing this?”
“I might’ve talked to Stevie about it, just to feel it out.”
My stomach drops. Does he want to change the terms of our agreement? Has he finally realized my family is too much, and he’s done with the act? I mean, the poor man is wearing a tux and doing the fox trot. “Okay. Enough stalling. Speak.”
His Adam’s apple bobs. He clears his throat. “I’m falling for you, Diana.” His jaw tightens. His eyes are so intense. So serious. “I want this to be real.”
Chapter 32
Ike
Idon’t know what’s going through Diana’s mind. Usually, she’s easy to read, but at the moment her gaze is darting from my eyes, to my mouth, to my bowtie and back as I lead her around the floor.
Slow, slow, quick-quick. Slow, slow, quick-quick.I recite the steps in my head while I wait for Diana to say something. Anything. Patty said I was a natural dancer, and Diana would be putty in my hands. So far she’s more like unreadable granite.
“Oh…” Her word is barely more than a puff of air against my neck. “When you say ‘real’ do you mean—”
I smile. I’m trying so hard not to scare her off. “I don’t want to hear the words ‘fake marriage’ or ‘business agreement’ come out of your mouth ever again.” So much for not scaring her off.
Her toe catches on my polished shoe, and she trips. I steady her in my arms. My heart is thumping, whether from joy or terror, I can’t tell. I can’t believe I did it. I finally told her. Stevie has been pushing for this. Patty couldn’t be more obvious about what she wants. Everyone seems to be Team Wentworth… except for my silent wife.
“Oh,” she says again.
“I wish you’d say something other than ‘oh’.” I chuckle. I promised her no pressure. I need to deliver. “You know what? You don’t have to say anything. Just think about it.” I squeeze her delicate hand. “I promise, we’re good either way, okay?”
“I’m thinking about it, okay?” Her words are careful. I can tell she doesn’t want to hurt me, and that in itself is pretty incredible considering where we started. Her red lips curl. Geez, she’s pretty.
I duck to press a kiss against her soft cheek. “Okay.”
Am I still falling for this woman? No. It’s done. Over. I’ve fallen. I’ve said enough, though. If I say anything else she’ll dart into the woods like a doe. I shouldn’t be surprised that I caught her off guard. This isn’t the usual order of events for normal people: First came antagonism, then came marriage, then comes love, then comes the baby in the baby carriage. So, I got things a little off. She warned me of her feelings on marriage. We agreed to the terms. I’m the one changing them.
Over Diana’s shoulder I spot her grandparents and pray that Diana doesn’t see them. If I haven’t scared her away, their faces will. Patty looks victorious, like she’s already planning a baby shower. That should scare me, but I haven’t forgotten Christmas morning with Diana. I don’t think I’ll ever let go of that daydream.
I lead us to the other side of the dance floor, away from Charles and Patty. I want to bundle this moment in bubble wrap and move us away from where the high pressure grandparents can break anything.
Unfortunately, dancing around this tent is like being inside a pinball machine. My bubble wrap isn’t enough—it’s obstacle after obstacle in here. I’ve led us straight to Diana’s mom. And my mom. What’s happening there? I don’t know Charlotte well enough to read her, but I know my mom. My mother’s words and expression are both heated.
“What?” Diana follows my gaze over her shoulder. “Oh, no. Do you think we should…?”
“Maybe.” But there’s no time for that now. The song winds down, and Patty and I made a plan for this. I hope I can get it right when I’m so distracted by whatever is going down between our moms.
I twirl Diana to the side, catching her off guard again. Her delicate laugh and the swirling layers of her white dress are picture-perfect. I spin her back, dropping her into a perfect dip. The surprise in her bright blue eyes is another one of those Christmas morning moments that I'll never forget. This is worth every minute of the awkward dance lessons and practice with Patty. Diana’s lips look so kissable. I lean down and—
Tink-tink-tink-tink!Someone tinks flatware against a glass before I can kiss my wife.Tink-tink-tink-tink-tink!
“I have something to say,” a woman announces over the soft applause and fading notes of “Witchcraft.”
I pull Diana back to her feet, looking for the source in the awkward quiet that follows.
