as we awkwardly waltz. I dip her, aware of a whispering buzz around us and a few eyes boring into me. As the song nears the end, applause begins, and I turn us toward those gathered along the edge of the dancing area. When someone calls Katie’s name from the crowd and whistles, I look at Jess, but it wasn’t him. With his arms crossed, he watches us, and I can’t read him. Thankfully, Sami’s gone for the moment.
I take Katie’s hand one more time, smile at her, and gently tug her into a curtsy, showing our appreciation to those applauding us. Then I giggle as I pull Katie in for a hug and swing her upward to sit on my hip. She’s heavy for me, but I carry her a few feet to her father. Tricia intercepts us.
“Katie, let Daddy dance with Emily,” Tricia suggests.
“Oh, that’s okay,” I say as I lower Katie to the ground. Jess glares at his sister.
“Who knew you could dance so well, beauty queen?” Tricia questions her niece as the band chatters behind me. I want to ask about Sami, but I don’t. And I don’t want to dance with him, either.
“How about some ice cream?” I suggest to Katie, smiling down at her as I avoid the glare of Jess’s eyes on the side of my head.
Tricia looks at me and then narrows her eyes on her brother, growling his name.
The band strikes up again, playing a popular slow country song, and a few older couples drift into the makeshift dance circle.
“Let’s dance,” he says, his voice low but demanding.
“I don’t think so,” I say, but he reaches for my hand, holding firm.
“One dance.” My statement goes to Katie as I look down at her while her father tugs us a few feet away. I call back to her. “Then ice cream.”
Suddenly, Jess wraps his arms around me, and we fall silent as the singer croons about love lost and second chances.
“Jess . . .”
“Shh,” he mutters as he pulls me a little closer, almost as close as two people can be. But I know what it’s like to be closer to him. How did we get to this place where I feel so distant even in his arms?
“Did you just shush me?”
Jess snorts and admits nothing.
“Where’s Sami?” I snap.
“Where’s Gabe?” he retorts.
“I did not come here with him.”
“And I didn’t come here with her.”
We stand at an impasse. Actually, we sway to the beat of a slow song, and I’m reminded of dancing in my nana’s living room, when I felt for a just a moment like happily ever after could be a real thing.
Not for you, Emily.
“God, I want to kiss that mouth of yours,” he mutters.
“Not after you kissed her last night,” I say. “Not to mention, you smell like her.” I exaggerate a sniff and lie because he smells like Jess, all man and sunshine with a hint of cinnamon. But I’m still upset that she was hanging on him like he was her next pole routine, and he did nothing about it.
Jess tugs me tighter. “You have no idea what you’re talking about, but I like your jealous streak.” He looks over my head as he speaks instead of addressing me directly.
“Jealous? Of that?” I snap, no longer worried about defending the sisterhood of scorned women.
“Hey, kids.”
Jess groans, and I peek around his arm to see his brother dancing with Karyn.
“Aw, ain’t you two so cute,” Tom coos.
“Shut up,” Jess growls, spinning us so my back is to his brother, but Tom isn’t having it. He moves so he and his wife are next to us.
“Did I see you dancing with Katie?” Tom asks as of me, surprise in his voice. “Got her moves from her father, eh?”
“Eh? What are you, Canadian now?” Jess glowers.
I glance at Karyn, in the hopes I’ll find about the source of the tension that rolls off one brother without affecting the other. She’s used to the banter between them—the teasing from older brother and the brooding responses of the younger—but I sense this is more than friendly fire.
“You’re quite the dancing queen yourself, Emily. Don’t you think so, Jess?” Tom continues. “Bet you could teach Jess a move or two. He’s out of practice.”
Jess stops and turns on his brother, but I rest my hands on his firm chest, pressing against him to keep him where he is.
“Now boys, let’s play nicely. Tom, you pay attention to this dancing queen,” Karyn addresses