miss you, Easy.”
She gave me a watery smile. “You’ll be so busy with your new life, you’ll forget all about me.”
“Impossible.”
Chapter Forty-Two
Baker
Everything hurt.
The feeling only intensified as the day progressed. Trish and Andrew considered putting off the wedding, but decided not to give his mother that kind of power.
Everyone tried to put on a happy front, but the air had somberness to it. They deserved better than that, but in the real world, even the fairy tale became spoiled.
“If you aren’t going to get on with the first dance, Baker and I are going to get out there and tear it up.” Patrick stood and offered me his hand.
Somehow, he’d managed to make me laugh. I followed him to the small space cleared near the long table we’d dined at. He took me in his arms and dipped me.
“Patrick.”
“We’ve gotta turn this doom and gloom to a party. You in?”
He spun us over toward the band, who was playing a slow tune, and signaled to the singer to pick it up. They immediately transitioned into “She Loves You.”
Andrew stood and led Trish to the dance floor as we twirled by.
“I can’t believe our first dance is to The Beatles,” he said as we passed.
Trish laughed, the first real smile I’d seen from her all day. “It’s perfect.”
The rest of the party sat almost stoically around the table.
“I think we’re about to have to go Dirty Dancing style,” Patrick said against my ear.
“What?” I tried to put some distance between us.
“Like how the staff pulled the guests out of their seats to dance at the end.” He waggled his brows. “Or we could do what you had in mind.”
I slapped at his chest. “You take Mrs. Quinn. I’ll take Mr. Dixon.”
“Then we’ll get them together. Can you handle a spin with Holt?”
“Can you handle Marlow?” I challenged.
“She’s putty in my hands.”
I cast my gaze to where she sat, sulking. “Looks like it.”
“My hands are on you at the moment.”
I groaned and grabbed his hand. “Come on.”
“Mrs. Quinn, I can’t dance with this one any longer. Would you do me the honor? That is, if you don’t mind, Mr. Dixon.” Patrick bowed gallantly.
Mrs. Quinn cracked a smile. “I’d be thrilled.”
“Mr. Dixon, save me please.”
He stood and offered me his arm. “My pleasure.”
Effortlessly, he led me around the small space.
“I had no idea you were quite the dancer.”
Crinkles formed around his eyes. “My children think I sit around at home all day, but I know how to have a good time.”
“Bet there are a lot of broken hearts now that you’re off the market.”
He glanced wistfully over to Mrs. Quinn. “I’m worried I’ll mess it all up. Again. I seem to excel at driving women away.”
“We don’t know how capable we are at forgiveness until we try.”
“You’re a smart young lady.” He grinned. “But I already knew that.”
I blushed and glanced away.
“What about patience? Are you any good at that?”
“I—” I rubbed my temples. “Honestly, I’m not sure. I think so.”
“Can you try to be? With my son? He’s—” His eyes got misty as he choked on his words.
“Got a lot to process.”
“Not just everything that happened last night.” He sighed. “He doesn’t talk about it, but he lost his best friend.”
“I found the newspaper article about it.”
“Did he tell you he was there?”
“Yeah.”
“He lost his friend and Celia all at once. He puts up a good front, but it’s all compounding.”
“What about you? Is it all compounding?” It was deflection at its finest. I couldn’t stand to hear anything about the woman Holt might still love.
“May I cut in?”
“Certainly.” Mr. Dixon patted Holt’s shoulder. “I’d better go save Audrey.”
The music was still upbeat, but Holt enveloped me in his arms and gently swayed.
“I don’t know what to say to him,” he confessed against my hair.
“How about that you love him? That seems like a good place to start.”
“Anyone ever tell you how smart you are?”
“I’ve heard it recently.”
Holt tightened his arms around my back. “This dress new?”
“Hayden gave it to me.”
“You look beautiful.”
I buried my head against his chest and inhaled his forest scent. “I saw you dancing with Marlow.”
He stiffened. “I can hardly look at her.”
I completely understood. He handled her much better than I would.
“You’re trying. For Trish and Andrew.”
“She insists she didn’t have anything to do with her showing up.”
“Do you believe her?”
He was quiet a minute. We barely moved little more than a sway.
“I don’t know.”
“She seemed pretty shaken.”
“I can’t trust her.”
How could he? She’d betrayed them all.
“She’s