Page 124 of Bourbon Bliss
“About what?” I opened my eyes and looked up at him.
“All this,” he said.
“It’s wonderful. I need to thank whoever had the idea for this dance.”
George grinned. “Can I confess something?”
I raised my eyebrows. “Yes.”
“It was me.”
It took a second for what he meant to sink in. “You? The dance was your idea?”
He nodded, still smiling.
“Did you…” I almost couldn’t utter the words, it was too stunning. “Did you do this for me?”
“Yes, June Bug. I did this for you. I wanted you to have this experience. And I wanted you to have it with me.”
Tears burned my eyes and I found myself having the ludicrous thought that if I cried, I’d ruin my makeup. “This is the most wonderful thing anyone has ever done for me.”
“I’ve got a lifetime of wonderfuls in store for you. You’re mine, my pretty little butterfly. And I intend to keep you.”
39
George
Ireally did like dancing.
My arms around June, holding her close. Her body pressed against me as we moved to the music. We’d had a little moonshine and some cherry cheesecake cups that were to die for. Wandered around and chatted with friends. Posed for pictures. Joked. Laughed. Danced. A damn near perfect evening.
I indulged in a little self-congratulation at having pulled this off. It looked like most people were having a great time. Bootleg residents of all ages, from their early twenties to their nineties, had come—some as couples, some in groups. There were dresses, tuxes, suits, hats, canes, and even someone’s dog running around in a little black bow tie.
It felt good to have made this happen for June. I hadn’t foisted it off on an assistant. I’d handled most of the details myself. Sure, a lot of people had been in on the planning and execution. I couldn’t have done it alone. But I’d had a big idea and I’d made it happen. It shored up my confidence quite a bit, even if it was just a silly dance.
But the way June beamed at me, looking like a dream on wings tonight, made it seem not the least bit silly at all.
We took a break from the dance floor and moved off to the side. The party was still going strong, but I hadn’t seen Bowie and Cassidy in quite some time. Scarlett and Devlin had disappeared early as well. Although we’d all taken the limo together, each of us had parked our cars here at the high school so we could leave whenever we wanted.
I happened to know Bowie had rented a hotel room to make the prom night experience complete. I’d thought about doing the same. But I didn’t want to put pressure on June. Did I hope to hit a grand slam home run tonight? Of course I did. I was aching for her something fierce. But her being ready was far more important than the pressure of my persistent erection.
“It appears that Jonah is leaving,” June said, gesturing toward the door.
I was about to snicker and say something about him getting lucky, but he was alone. “Where’s Lacey?”
“Uh-oh.” June nodded toward the dance floor.
Lacey was cozied up with a man who wasnotJonah Bodine.
“Who’s he?” I asked.
“Amos Sheridan. He’s Cassidy’s ex-boyfriend.”
There was nothing subtle about the way Amos held Lacey. They were pressed close together, her arms tight around his neck, his hands almost too low on her backside to be decent.
I looked back at the door. Jonah paused, casting a glance over his shoulder toward the dance floor. He shook his head and left.
“Ouch,” I said. “That sucks. Poor Jonah.”
