Page 37 of Second Dance
“Welcome in. I’m Dorian. The owner. Is there something I can help you with?”
“No, we’re just browsing,” Gillian said. “Alex hasn’t been here before.”
Light blue eyes assessed me. “Not a reader?”
“Ebooks mostly,” I said.
“But your kids read paperbacks,” Dorian said, as if he’d overheard our conversation from earlier.
“We were just talking about that,” Gillian said. “I’m Gillian, by the way. I own the dance studio.”
I held out my hand. “Alex Garcia. New to town.”
“Nice to meet you both,” Dorian said. “What do you like to read, Alex?”
“Biographies about leaders are my usual go-to. But now that I’m retired, maybe I should start reading more fiction.” I did aside-eye glance in Gillian’s direction. “Should I try your friend’s book?”
“She’ll be thrilled if you’ve read it before you meet her.” Gillian turned toward Dorian. “Seraphina Sinclair’s a friend of mine.”
“Ah, yes, she was one of my mom’s favorites,” Dorian said. “She’s taken pity on me and agreed to a signing event here next month.”
“She could never say no to your mom, and it sounds like she can’t say it to you either,” Gillian said. “She doesn’t enjoy them as much as some might.”
“Well, I’m grateful,” Dorian said. “She’ll bring in a crowd. And I could use the business.”
“I sure miss seeing your mom when I come in, but it seems like you’re carrying on her legacy very well,” Gillian said.
“It’s been an adjustment after my service in the Navy, that’s for sure,” Dorian said. “I miss her too. She’s everywhere in here, though. It keeps her close.”
Another customer came in, so Dorian excused himself.
“Let’s go find Seraphina’s book,” I said.
We wandered over to the romance section. Seraphina had a whole row to herself, plus several staff picks write ups. I quickly read the one written by Dorian.
The Moonlit Masqueradeby Seraphina Sinclair
“Candlelit ballrooms, velvet masks, and secrets that could ruin everything—Sinclair’s latest had me up past midnight. Yes, there’s swooning and passion, but what surprised me most was how much this book is about having the courage to be seen. The romance is lush and yearning, but it’s the emotional risk-taking that stayed with me.
“If you love character-driven historicals with real stakes, this one’s for you.”
— Dorian, Ink & Anchor
“Isn’t that a lovely review?” Gillian said.
“It’s made me want to buy it.” I snatched a copy from the shelf and turned to find Gillian closer than I expected. So close I nearly knocked into her.
My hand shot out instinctively, catching her waist to steady her. She didn’t step back.
Her eyes lifted to mine—those green eyes I’d spent fourteen years trying to forget—and my thumb pressed against her hip bone without permission. She drew in a sharp breath.
“Do you want to kiss me?” Her voice was barely a whisper as her arms slid around my neck.
“Yes.” The word came out rougher than I meant it to. I pulled her closer, felt her body align with mine, and for a second I just stood there, our mouths an inch apart. Her breath was warm. She smelled like something clean and familiar—soap and salt air.
Then I closed the distance.
The first brush of her lips against mine was gentle, testing. But when she made a small sound in the back of her throat and pressed closer, something in my chest cracked open. I deepened the kiss, my hand sliding up her spine, and she kissed me back like she’d been waiting just as long as I had. Fourteen years collapsed into nothing. Just her mouth, her hands in my hair, the thundering of my heart against my ribs.
