Now, at last, the moment she’d been so impatient for and so nervous about was here. Paul and Ellen had left a few minutes earlier, the guests were starting to clear out and she was happy to say that Derek and Addie had left together soon after the happy couple. Sarah so hoped they’d work out. Why she ever thought Kevin would be right for Addie, she had no idea. Why she’d thought half the stuff she’d used to, she had no idea, either. Too much of her life had been spent in a weird distorting fog. Finally she was starting to see things—and herself—clearly.
If only she could see clearly how the rest of this evening would go. She knew Joe had feelings for her, had for a long time, but maybe he’d gotten to the end of his rope as she’d just gotten to the beginning of hers. Maybe he’d trust that she’d had a true change of heart. Maybe he wouldn’t. Sarah couldn’t blame him either way. All she could do now was put her plan into motion and hope for the best.
She scanned the thinning crowd until she found Joe, chatting with one of Paul’s friends next to the dance floor. Even her hundredth or so glimpse of him this evening thrilled her. They’d spent most of the afternoon apart—Sarah had maid of honor duties and she was terrified she’d give something away if she spent too much time with him. Joe could read her like a Nook.
Okay, Sarah. Ready, set, go.
She moved onto the dance floor and caught the eye of the bandleader, who nodded.
Now.
Squaring her shoulders, Sarah made a beeline for Joe. By the time she was next to him, the band had started her request, the last song of the evening, “It’s Your Love” by Tim McGraw, which he performed with his wife, Faith Hill.
“Dance with me?” She caught Joe’s hand and tugged him onto the floor, where a few brave couples had stuck it out nearly to the bitter end.
“I hate dancing.”
“So?” She turned to face him, standing close, and put her arms around his neck, aware of his tall, solid body in a way she’d never been before. “It’s the last song, you can manage one.”
“I don’t know, Sarah.”
She rolled her eyes, heart pounding, same old teasing Sarah, and yet she felt so different, so much more of a woman around him, so much calmer and more sure about who she was and what she wanted. “You can handle a slow dance. Even my two-left-feet brother can handle a slow dance. And frankly, if there’s anyone who needs to be afraid right now, it’s me.”
His deep brown eyes had been avoiding hers. At this, he looked down at her. “You? You’re a great dancer.”
“It’s not the dancing I’m afraid of.” She started swaying, aware of the song’s romantic lyrics flowing around them, the warmth of his body close to hers, the way it drew her. How could she have been so stupid for so long?
Joe...
“So?” His hands remained stubbornly at his side, though he made some attempt to move with her. Not wildly graceful, but not embarrassing, either. He was a fine dancer. “What are you afraid of?”
“The dance being over. The weekend being over. You leaving me.”
His mouth pressed in a line. A muscle twitched in his jaw. How had she never noticed its strength? “I’m taking a new job, not leaving you.”
“Joe?”
“What?”
“Put your arms around me.”
“Sarah...”
She moved closer, pressed against him. “Please, Joe.”
She felt rather than heard him sigh. Then his arms came around her, reluctant at first, then firm and protective, and for the first time in her life held by a man she wanted, Sarah felt absolutely safe and absolutely content. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He was grumpy as a bear. She ignored him and pressed her cheek to his—as far up as she could reach. His scent was so clean and masculine, his skin so just-shaven smooth, the song so romantic and beautiful. She couldn’t let his mood undermine her resolve.
“Joe?”
“Yes.” His tone was slightly less exasperated. Maybe she was getting to him? She hoped so. Because it was time.
She tightened her arms around his neck, pressed her forehead under his chin, unable to meet his eyes. “How about I move with you to Phoenix?”