The orchestra struck up “The Blue Danube” waltz and people began swooping and swirling across the dance floor. Most of them were older couples, which made sense. Cora didn’t know a single person her age who actually knew how to ballroom dance like people did in the movies. But as she watched the elegant couples whirling around the floor, she secretly wished she’d learned.
Finn returned to the table with a plate of berry tarts dusted with sparkling sugar. He offered it to Cora. “I thought you might want some.”
“Thanks,” Suzette said happily, snagging a tart.
Finn set the plate down, then said to Cora, “Would you like to dance?”
Cora had a miniature cherry tart halfway to her mouth. “Oh, I’m—”
“Yes, she would.” Suzette swiped the pastry from Cora and put it on her own plate. “You need to dance. It’s a good stress reliever. Go. Shoo!” She waved her hands at both of them.
“Thanks a lot,” Cora mumbled under her breath.
“I’ll be over here if anyone needs me,” Suzette sang out.
Cora followed Finn to the dance floor, and he drew her into position, placing his hand on her lower back. Warmth tingled through her with the unexpected contact of his large hand on her bare skin. Her gaze flew to his, but he was looking beyond her. She could see him swallow, and a muscle clenched in his jaw. He seemed nervous.
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
He nodded without making eye contact and said in a husky voice, “Everything’s great.”
Before she had a chance to ask anything further, he swung her into the waltzing crowd. Cora gasped in surprise as she tried to keep up. Finn expertly maneuvered them through the dancing couples, occasionally twirling her until Cora found herself caught up in the gaiety and laughter. She was a miserable dance partner, that was abundantly clear, but she was never one to shy away from a challenge. On their second time around the floor, she gave him an apologetic smile. “I think that’s the twelfth time I’ve stepped on your foot.”
He gave her a warm smile. “I didn’t notice.”
“Liar,” she said with a laugh. “You can send me the doctor bill on Monday.”
A visibly intoxicated couple came lurching toward them, and Finn effortlessly switched directions. Cora stumbled, and he pulled her against his hard chest, lifting her off her feet until they were out of danger, then setting her back into the dance as smoothly as if it had never happened.
“Where did you learn to do this?” she asked, a little out of breath.
“My mother took ballroom dance lessons when I was a kid. She talked my father into it, and he made me go, too. She said it was an important skill to learn, but I think my father just figured if he had to suffer through it, so should I.”
Cora giggled as he spun her around, her mood lifting. Finn might be on the stuffy side, but the man could dance. Who’d have guessed? He had a superpower, after all.
“My father tried to put me in dance class when I was little,” Cora said. “It was a disaster. The ballet instructor told my father she wasn’t skilled enough to teach wild animals.”
Finn let out a bark of laughter. “I doubt you were that bad.”
“Oh, I really was,” Cora assured him. “I was so bored, I refused to do the exercises. Instead, I pretended I was a tiger, and the other girls were sheep. Every time the teacher had us line up and ‘float across the floor like a spring breeze,’ the rest of the kids did the floating, and I did the stalking and pouncing.”
Finn’s warm laughter was contagious.
“I lasted one and a half classes before she booted me out,” Cora continued. “My poor dad. After that, he tried to put me in piano lessons, Girl Scouts, peewee cheerleading and whatever else he thought little girls should do. I think it was a side effect of us losing my mom when I was so young. He was kind of at a loss with how to handle me.”
“And I’m guessing none of those activities appealed to you?”
“Not a single one,” Cora said with a sigh. “I was all about karate, rock climbing and trips to the shooting range.”
Finn smiled and pulled her closer as he maneuvered them in a tight circle to avoid one of the dining tables at the edge of the dance floor. He smelled clean and woodsy, like a hike through the forest after it rained. Cora could feel the warmth of his chest, and the strength of his large hand gripping her lower back. She was surprised to realize how comfortable she felt in his embrace. It was...nice.
“So how’d you talk your dad into letting you do those things?” Finn asked.
“Oh, it was an uphill battle. It took me years to convince him I wasn’t going to be a Junior League debutante. But eventually, he figured out I was as stubborn as he was, so he let me go my own way.” Then Cora glanced up and added, “Within reason. He was still ridiculously overprotective, but he did teach me how to shoot. I think he was glad when I decided to join the police force because at least it was something he understood.”
“It’s amazing what you do,” Finn said with feeling. “Every day you’re out there trying to make the city a better place, trying to protect the people. I can’t imagine a parent not being proud of the path you’ve chosen.”
Heat crept up the back of her neck, blooming across her cheeks. Cora glanced away, suddenly shy of Finn’s heartfelt compliment. She tried to change the subject. “What about you? Aside from dance lessons, did you do any other sports growing up?”