He laughed and tugged her to him, pulling her into some kind of two-step as a slower song came on. That was a little easier to follow. He bent his head close to her ear. “The agency I worked for in a previous life made us take lessons. Southern ladies like men who can dance.”
“I’m scared to ask what other kind of lessons they gave you,” she teased.
He got a wicked gleam in his eye and led her into a spin. “I didn’t need those kinds of lessons. That just comes naturally.”
He pulled her tight to him and a wash of heat went through her, mixing with the lingering warmth from the alcohol. Suddenly, she wished there weren’t so many people around. “So how long do you think this party will go?”
“Already scheming how to get me alone, doc?” he asked, his hand sliding to her lower back.
“You have no idea,” she said, looping her arms around his neck. “In my head, you’re already naked. With cowboy boots.”
His eyes twinkled in the lights and he dipped his head low to kiss her. “That can be arranged. And don’t worry. Dessert’s not too far away, I promise.”
Lane sat, watching Elle give Raymond a quick hug good-bye and then thanking everyone for coming. He smiled at the sight. She was sparkling like the champagne they’d toasted with. Eyes alight, blond hair tousled, and her cheeks flushed from alcohol and a good party.
He hadn’t been sure how Elle would react to the surprise get-together and had developed a back-up plan, but he’d wanted to give her the opportunity to see what her friends and co-workers had wanted to do for her. He was glad he hadn’t shut it down before it happened. Elle had handled everything with grace. Not just grace but she looked…happy. Happy in a way that sent sunshine sneaking into the final worried corners inside him.
He waited until she’d said good-bye to the last guest and then grabbed the large white box from behind the bar. The manager gave him a nod and then slipped into the office, affording them some privacy.
Elle walked back into the main dining room, her eyes finding him in the low lighting at the corner of the dance floor. Her soft smile at seeing him sent Lane’s heartbeat speeding up. He never got over how goddamned lucky he was to have Elle in his life. She saw him. Loved him. Every part of his life, of his past, his struggles and triumphs, and she embraced it all. He could joke with her on the dance floor about lessons he’d had to take when he’d been an escort and not have to worry about feeling judgment or pity from her. He could take her home and tie her to the bed and teasingly insult her and she only got hotter for it. They were oddly shaped puzzle pieces that, by some miracle, had found their match. He would never take that for granted.
“Hey, you,” she said, crossing the dark dance floor. “Ready to get out of here? I think we’ve shut the place down.”
He reached out and took her hand, pulling her down to the chair next to him. “We haven’t had dessert yet.”
She glanced at the empty bar. “Well, I don’t think the manager would appreciate us doing dessert here in the restaurant.”
He smirked and tapped the box on the table. “Actual dessert, horny lady.”
She turned her head, noticing the box for the first time. She pressed her hands together with delight. “Ooh. You saved the cake all for us? Good plan.”
“Open it.”
She reached over and lifted the lid. He watched her face instead of the box. Her eyes widened and then a laugh tumbled out of her. “Pepto pink!”
“Of course.” Lane nodded. “For your pretty, pretty princess birthday party. I even got little tiaras added to them.”
She smiled wide. “I love them. They’re perfect.” She leaned closer and poked at one of plastic tiaras. “But there are only eleven.” She sent him a playful glare. “Did you already eat one again, Cannon? Show me those teeth.”
He wet his lips and reached beneath his chair, grabbing the small white box beneath. He held it out to her. “No, there’s a special one for the birthday girl. One that won’t turn her teeth pink.”
A wrinkle appeared between her brows. He took a breath and opened the box.
She blinked a few times, her gaze zeroing in on the cupcake inside, one made of b
lown glass he’d commissioned from a local artist.
Elle sucked in a breath and lifted the sculpture out of the box. “Lane, this is gorgeous.”
“You’re gorgeous,” he said softly.
“Ooh, it opens.” She glanced up at him and then slowly lifted off the top. He could see the moment she realized what was inside. Her eyes widened and her lips parted.
He couldn’t see what she was seeing but he knew exactly what was there. A delicate vintage gold ring with diamonds in the shape of a flower, and all of his promises for the future weaved into it.
“Oh, shit,” she whispered. “You said you sold this back months ago.”
Lane didn’t answer. He could’ve never sold that ring back. He’d seen how much she loved it. She’d told him it was what she would’ve picked out for herself. In his mind, it’d always belonged to her. He scooted his chair back and lowered himself to his knee.