I did. I kissed him back with a passion I thought I’d lost.
I had my hands on the placket of Finn’s shirt, pulling futilely at the fabric, when he came up for air. His face swam into focus, and what I saw there made my heart lurch.
Desire.
Very grown-up desire.
Somewhere nearby, someone dropped a dinner plate with an almighty clatter. I was suddenly painfully aware that I was tangled up with a man while over two hundred and fifty people tucked in to chicken with apricot glaze and green beans amandine about ten feet away.
“Finn, not now,” I said, pushing him away.
“If not now, then when?” he asked.
But he let me go.
The rest of the meal passed in a blur. I made small talk with Marla and Steve, both of whom thanked me for helping with the event. I felt guilty accepting their gratitude when I supported the woman they held accountable for their son’s death. We all just wanted the truth, but I somehow felt like a double agent, a traitor to their cause.
And I did get a chance to chat with the Gundersons. George politely inquired after Alice, and looked disappointed that she’d had to work at the A-la-mode for the evening. The thought crossed my mind that the Gundersons taking a grandparent-ly interest in Alice might be a good thing. They were cultured people, had connections outside of Dalliance, and, frankly, they had money. Knowing people like the Gundersons couldn’t hurt.
The ice cream cake was a hit. I’d combined peanut butter, fudge, graham crackers, and marshmallow to pay homage to the peanut butter s’mores Bryan used to make when he went camping with his dad and Cal. It made Marla cry.
When the DJ announced Patty Loveless’s “Blue Memories,” couples swarmed onto the dance floor and slipped into the hold for the Texas two-step.
Cal pushed away from the table and offered me his hand. I took it, feeling my heart leap at the warmth of his skin. I caught the faint scent of leather and starch, homey, masculine scents that made me feel strangely safe.
We faced each other on the dance floor. He held on to my right hand, and placed his other hand on the curve of my waist. The two-step is not a close-up dance, yet that distance between us forced us to look in each other’s eyes. The circle of our arms defined a private space, and his blue eyes held me there.
The tripping run of the guitar signalled the start of the dance, and the instant the lonesome cry of the fiddle filled the room, the gentle pressure of Cal’s hand sent me stepping back, quick, quick, slow, slow, quick, quick, slow, slow.
I hadn’t danced with many men in my life. Finn, of course. And a couple of awkward efforts with Wayne Jones. The occasional Dalliance civic leader at some function or another.
Dancing with Cal was different. He didn’t have the innate grace Finn possessed, but he wasn’t as stiff as Wayne. He led me around the floor without crowding or pushing. I retreated and he followed, relentless but patient.
“When I close my eyes,” Patty sang, “I almost see the way you look when you were standing next to me.” The words were filled with longing and regret, the music bittersweet. The song spoke to one man in my life, as another’s heat enveloped me.
After a full turn around the dance floor, he spun me around beneath his arms so I ended up tucked against his side. As we promenaded, he leaned down to murmur in my ear.
“I didn’t crawl out from under a rock, Tally. I know a little something about women. I understand why you might be attracted to Finn. He’s fun, maybe a little dangerous, but he’s not reliable.” He spun me around into a classic hold and looked me square in the eye. “I am.”
I nodded. I knew the truth of his words. Hadn’t I relied on Cal in the past? Called him for help when my mama was too drunk to drive to the grocery store? Cried on his solid shoulder when Finn left town?
Quick, quick, slow, slow.
“I don’t know what Finn can offer, but I’m offering you a life.” He shifted us again, bringing me back to his side. “I’m offering you a steady, faithful man and maybe, God willing, a baby or two. Picket fence, PTA meetings, the works.”
I stumbled, but his strong hands held me aloft, and we never missed a step.
“Are you proposing?” I gasped.
He pushed