To Get Me To You: A Small Town Southern Romance (Wishful Romance Book 1) (47 page)

Somebody queued up the music. Tyler glanced down as if checking the position of their feet, which was ridiculous since she knew exactly where her feet were in the pitch black dark. The faint trace of color high in her cheeks gave her away. So she wasn’t as unaffected as she wanted him to believe. Brody could see the thrum of her pulse at the base of her throat, felt the answering echo of his own as she lifted her head again, focusing on his eyes.

She was stiff at first, resisting his lead. They stumbled a few times. He missed several steps. Then she did. And then the song was over, and she was frowning, knowing they botched the number.

“Okay, try it again, and this time, Tyler, remember you aren’t doing an impression of a fence post. Loosen up,” ordered Nate.

She took a moment, closed her eyes as if to center herself, then nodded. With a roll of her neck, she shook out all her limbs. Brody felt the difference in her posture as soon as she took position again. The music swelled, and they locked eyes. On cue, they began to move, and at last, at long last, he felt like he was home. Everyone and everything faded except the music and the woman in his arms.

He led, spun, dipped, and by the time she broke away into a quick shuffle tap, her eyes were sparking with fun and her cheeks were flushed with exertion. Brody found himself grinning, improvising in response, as he couldn’t remember this section of choreography to save his soul. He watched her, starting to follow her lead, mimicking, mirroring as they came back together and whirled around the stage. And at last they ended, Tyler in a deep dip over his knee, her face flushed and smiling, her chest heaving.

“Excellent!” called Nate. “You’re remembering how to move together.”

Something hot and dark flashed in Tyler’s eyes. Brody tugged her up, into his arms, and held her a moment too long, letting the awareness, the heat sink in. No, he hadn’t forgotten what it was to move with her—on stage or in the dark. Neither had she.

Her breathing faltered and she tugged away like he’d shocked her. She looked flustered and wary, which she’d never been at any point in their courtship. It was kind of adorable. Brody was wise enough to repress a smile.

Eight years had done nothing to dim the chemistry between them. She clearly hadn’t expected that and didn’t know what to do with it, so the default response was retreat. But before her brain had kicked back in, she’d been smiling, having fun, just like they used to. He could work with that.

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