Barefoot at Sunset (Barefoot Bay Timeless Book 1) (33 page)

Julia’s letter flashed in his head for a moment, but he had no time to think about it, because a few hundred slightly inebriated and way-too-old-for-Spring Flinging guests started filling up the banquet room, much noisier than when they’d arrived and checked in.

“How are we doing back here?” Lacey Walker slipped behind the curtains, holding a wine glass and wearing a relieved smile. The dance contestants hollered at their leader, some gathering around her. She greeted a few, but her gaze cut through the crowd to Mark.

“You’re here,” she said, stepping closer.

“With my squad.” He gestured to the women around him who responded—
of course
—with a perfectly timed “Woo-woo-woo!” and synchronized fist-pumping like they were on the sidelines of the big Friday-night game.

Instantly, inexplicably, he loved them all for the support and attitude. Man, he’d judged people wrong.

Lacey nodded slowly, a light in her eyes that had certainly been absent the last time he’d seen her. Late last night, he’d called and told her everything and made one more pitch for her to consider Emma for the job. She’d left it hanging, but doubtful.

“Are you dancing to the same songs?” she asked.

“One each,” Libby offered. “With a grand
That’s What Friends Are For
finale. Please join us on stage for that, Lacey.”

“I’d love to,” she said enthusiastically, raising her glass. “One more of these and I’ll be leading the show.”

“It’s been a tough week,” Mark said.

She rolled her amber eyes and pushed some strawberry-blond curls away from her face. “Tough but great fun. This is definitely going to be an annual event. But I’m not chairing it ever again.” She narrowed her eyes at Libby. “You’re pretty good at it, you know.”

“I’ll chair,” Libby said easily. “But I get to handpick my team.” She turned to the group. “Starting right here.”

“Count me out,” Mark said. “I’ll be in China next spring.”

“You might come back to Barefoot Bay,” Lacey said. “You never know.”

He’d never step foot on this godforsaken rock again. One too many memories. But that sounded rude, so he just smiled. “You’re right, Lacey. You never know.”

Music quieted the crowd, and a coordinator moved all of the dancers to the back of the stage and lined them up in order, youngest to oldest. An old married couple, the Bentleys, who met while they were in the class of 1956, were seated on a sofa, surrounded by their kids and grandkids. They’d be last, of course, and the stars of the show as the oldest alums at the event.

The first couple, twentysomethings who’d graduated ten years ago, ran off to the opening notes of a song Mark didn’t know, but he heard the words “tonight’s gonna be a good night” over and over again. It
would
have been a good night, if he hadn’t been an idiot.

When they finished, the crowd applauded, and on went the thirty-year-olds from the 1990s.

Libby gathered her girls around Mark for a huddle and hug, and he played along, knowing it would be a disaster and he’d be a laughingstock, but he couldn’t care less. He’d get through this without Emma, thanks to these new friends, then he’d leave the party, pack up, and get out of town tomorrow morning. Back to Australia, maybe, or maybe Bhutan to hike up to the Tiger’s Nest Monastery.

Where he supposedly got engaged to Emma.

He closed his eyes to kick the thought away, and when he opened them, the nineties dancers were running behind the curtain to wild applause.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have a small change from what’s in your program for our 1980s dancers.”

The women gave a cheerleadery squeal, and Margot, his partner for
Call Me
, sidled up on his left, sliding her arm through his and giving him a smile.

“We’ll do great, Mark, no worries.”

Another woman he’d misjudged and made wrong assumptions about. “I know we will,” he said easily, but his comment was partially drowned out by the announcer.

“This tribute to the decade that gave us
Miami Vice
, Reaganomics, shoulder pads, yuppies, and MTV—” He was cut off by the crowd’s reaction of cheers and boos. Mark shook his head as he laughed, and realized, with yet another boot to the gut, how much Emma would have enjoyed this.

“This dance number,” the announcer continued, “was supposed to be danced as a great love story, but I’ve received word from backstage that it’s changed.”

The crowed “awwwed,” and Margot squeezed his arm. “You should have had more faith in us, Mark,” she whispered.

He should have. He was wrong to assume they were manhunting with every breath. Wrong and ashamed. “I’m…sorry.” And he meant it.

She laughed lightly. “No need to grovel to me, but there might be a woman out there who’d like to see you suffer a little.”

But she
wasn’t
out there, and that was making him suffer more.

Lacey interrupted, coming over to deliver the good-luck hug she was giving to each couple before they went on.

“You’re a lucky man,” Lacey whispered in his ear as their cheeks touched.

Lucky? “I don’t know about that,” he said, adding a sad smile.

“But you are.”

“All these women, you mean?”

She lifted a brow. “Twice in a lifetime. Most of us only get one chance for something like that.”

Twice? “No. One chance is all I had.”

Her lips curled up, but before she could answer, Margot pulled him through the opening of the curtains while Blondie wailed. Almost immediately, his body started the moves he’d learned from the yellow-haired choreographer. As Mark turned, he saw Jasper on the side, a friendly arm around the young dance teacher he was competing against.

Mark gave him a nod and mouthed, “Sorry,” as Margot started moving maniacally around the stage and Mark did his best to dance. He heard Law hollering at the top of his lungs and the hysterical laughter of a well-lit crowd watching others make complete fools of themselves.

He let go and danced, as one crazy-ass fortysomething woman after another came out and danced through every song on the playlist, taking them up to the
Flashdance
song, which brought the house down. Then they rocked out to
The
Power of Love
, all the while every note made his heart ache for Emma.

Every note had a memory or a moment. A laugh, a trip, a touch, a kiss. Right there, as they reached the end of that song, the very moment that he and Emma were supposed to kiss and start
Endless Love
, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

Libby, of course. This was her song.

How badly he wanted it to be Emma. What he wouldn’t give to turn around and see her. He wanted it so much, he didn’t turn until the first few notes started, because the disappointment was going to hurt yet again.

A woman’s hand snaked around his waist, the fingers spreading possessively. If only—

He felt warm breath on his neck and the pressure of a body against his back.

A few people made catcalls and hooted suggestively.

The song started.
My love, there’s only
…

“You in my life.”

The woman’s voice floated into his ear, softer than Lionel Ritchie and so…familiar.

“And you,” she sang breathlessly, “will always be…”

Emma.

He turned slowly, as if the spell would be broken if he moved too fast.

And there she was, looking up at him, light in her eyes, her lips parted in a half smile of hope.

“My endless love,” she finished, taking his hand and drawing back exactly as they’d practiced.

“You’re here,” he whispered.

She winked. “Jasper’s watching. Dance.”

Dance? He wanted to lift her up and spin her around and kiss her until everyone and everything disappeared. “Emma, I’m so—”

“Dance,” she ordered, moving to the song as they’d learned. This had been their favorite song to practice at the villa. It always ended by falling into bed and making…

God, he
loved
her. Did she know that?

“You have to dance,” she insisted, taking the lead and turning. Muscle memory kicked in, and they got through the next minute arm in arm, eyes locked, silent, certain, and as happy as he’d ever felt.

The chorus built to a crescendo, but Mark barely heard the music or the crowd. Every sense was focused on Emma, reading the look in her eyes and seeing forgiveness and her irrepressible humor and…love.

Was he imagining that?

He finally took his gaze off her to see his seven friends, huddled like women do, excited and happy and wiping a few tears.

They’d been in on it.

Lacey came up behind them, and they pulled her into their circle, all of them beaming at him. Did she know, too?

“How did you do this?” he asked Emma.

“That’s what friends are for,” she teased as the music to the song of the same name started. But instead of their usual positions, Mark and Emma stepped side by side, and the women came rushing out, forming a line on either side of them, and the whole lot of them started swaying to familiar words with a powerful message.

This was what friends were for.

In no time, hundreds of Mimosa High alums, ages twenty-five to God knew what, slid arms around the waist of the person next to them and swayed and sang as loud and off-key as only a room full of tipsy, maudlin, happy people could.

But no one was happier than Mark, with his arm around Emma where it would stay as long as she would have him. And he hoped that was forever.

As the song ended and cheers rose and the room rocked, he turned her in his arms and pulled her into him. “Not letting you go, Emma DeWitt,” he whispered.

“Not leaving you again, Mark Solomon,” she shot back.

He drew back, still unsure that this could really be happening.

“I can’t believe you’re here. What about Lacey? Can you still talk to her?”

“I met with Lacey this morning. I’m on the short list for the job.”

His jaw dropped.

“Your call really greased the skids last night, so thanks. She was awesome, and so are you for thinking of that first.”

“Emma!” He couldn’t help grabbing her tighter and lifting her off the ground for a celebratory twirl, which just sent the cheering section into a frenzy.

“Get off the stage, you two!” Jasper came running across the stage, ushering them to the other side. “Go make out in private. You can be sure you didn’t win ten grand today.”

“We won everything,” Mark said, leading her off the stage, where the cheerleaders and matchmakers parted with hugs and pats on the back for both of them.

They managed to escape, slipping out a side door into a wide corridor where it was hushed and cool and secluded.

He barely whispered her name before kissing her on the mouth and getting the same enthusiasm in return.

“I missed you,” he murmured into the kiss.

“Mmmm.” She inched back, eyes closed, smile wide. “Me, too.”

“Emma.” He closed his palms over her face and held it, her warm, soft cheeks like heaven in his hands. “I have to tell you something.”

“I know you’re sorry, Mark—”

“I love you.”

“You do.” It wasn’t a question.

“I love your heart and your humor and your…”

“Give me another h-word and I’m yours.”

He laughed, dropping his head back for the pure joy that the feeling sent through him. “I love you,” he said again. “It’s all I have. No alliteration, no epic groveling, though I owe it to you, just plain love that I want to share with you for the rest of our lives.”

“Oh, Mark. I love you, too.” She choked on the admission. “I knew it the moment I left. I made it as far as Charlotte, spent the night in the airport and got on the first flight back to Florida. My luggage is…somewhere. I met with Lacey, and she told me that when you called last night, she really understood everything.” She glanced in the direction of the banquet room. “And she even gave me clothes to wear. When I arrived at the reunion, I was planning to find you, but I ran into Libby, who already knew the truth, so those girls helped me cook up the whole thing.”

“Those girls.” He laughed ruefully. “I shouldn’t have been so terrified of them.”

“No, but after they heard why you were so afraid to be alone at this event, they decided to embarrass the hell out of you onstage.”

“I deserved it,” he admitted, pulling her into him and toward a back beach exit. “Let’s go home,” he whispered. “Let’s make love.”

“All night.”

At the edge of the sand, they stopped and looked down at their feet.

“You know what the marketing says,” Mark teased.

“Kick off your shoes and fall in love.”

Mark toed off his loafers, and as he bent to pick them up, he kissed her cheek. “Done and done.”

Arm in arm, they walked along Barefoot Bay, the music of the sixties still audible from the banquet room.

“So, what changed your mind, Em?”

“Not what.
Who
.”