Chapter 6 #2
She lowered her voice. “I’ll let you in on a secret.
I love dancing and music. Love!” she exclaimed, returning to full volume.
“Ever since Bruce kicked the can, we’ve been dancing like there’s no tomorrow around here!
” A dip of stunned silence, followed by a burst of rich laughter from Peggy.
The crowd joined in with a smattering of nervous chortling.
“We’ve been eating and mingling,” she continued, “but now we’re going to start dancing because it’s my house and I make the rules!
In exactly one minute, this remarkable DJ here has agreed to play Dean Martin’s ‘Let it Snow.’ So I’m giving you fair warning.
You have sixty seconds to find a partner for this first dance.
If you don’t, I’m going to come around and pair you up and shoo you onto the dance floor.
” Another bark of laughter ended her speech.
Fear arced down Leo’s spine. He wasn’t a skilled dancer. But given this situation, there were things worse than having to dance. Being paired by their hostess as if he were ten years old was worse. Watching Mrs. Pottinger match Maddie with the curly-haired guy was worse.
Leo excused himself from the panicking people around him and shouldered purposely through the crowd toward Maddie.
Desperate times. Desperate measures.
He arrived just as Maddie’s mom was turning to Maddie, raising a hand to gesture toward the curly-haired guy—
“Would you—” Leo said to Maddie as he arrived at her shoulder.
She turned at once, an encouraging look springing to her face.
“I was hoping . . . that you might.” Leo swallowed. “That is, I was going to see if you’d like to dance with me.” Shoot! Why couldn’t he have said that better?
“Yes,” she answered at once. “I’d love to.”
Thank God. He offered his forearm. She wrapped her hand around the crook of his elbow, and he led her to the side of the gathering couples.
“It seems the forced dancing portion of the evening has begun,” she said lightly.
“Does Mrs. Pottinger enforce dancing at this party every year?” he asked.
“This is a first. Last year she insisted we play an enormous game of Christmas charades. The year before that she created a small sledding hill and made everyone sled down it.”
“I’m guessing Bruce didn’t like charades or sledding.”
“Exactly. She seems to be taking the Mission:Christmas volunteers on a tour of all the activities Bruce detested.”
“I think I would’ve liked Bruce,” Leo said dryly.
Maddie laughed, and he found himself laughing, truly laughing.
“You could have warned me about this,” he said.
“I could have. But then you might not have come.”
“I’m impressed that you keep coming to this party year after year.”
“It’s good for me to step outside my comfort zone every now and then. Besides, it gives me a chance to eat delicious food and wear a fancy dress.”
“I don’t know if I mentioned it earlier,” he said, “but you look beautiful in your fancy dress.” Her simple white dress followed the curves of her body from shoulder to knee.
“Thank you.” She smoothed the dress into place. “I’ve been waiting for a chance to wear it.”
Her long earrings sparkled. Her silver high heels showed off toes painted red. The clean grapefruit scent of her perfume scrambled his thoughts. Was he . . . should he say something else?
Music expanded through the room, and they adjusted to face each other. He offered his left hand. When she placed her fingers in his, a shock of heat surrounded the contact. Rattled, he concentrated on placing his right palm at a respectable spot on her waist.
“Oh, the weather outside is frightful,” sang Dean Martin.
Leo and Maddie swayed in time to the music.
He didn’t feel like a terrible dancer. He felt okay at it and like the luckiest man in the room because he had Maddie in his arms. For this one night, he wasn’t at home, cleaning up toys and loading the dishwasher.
Maddie smiled up at him, and he smiled down at her, as if the two of them had just pulled off a jail break.
“It turns out that I don’t hate forced dancing,” she said.
“No. Me either.”
“This is kind of nice.” She settled her gaze on something over his shoulder.
“Yes.”
“Really nice, actually,” she said softly.
He nodded. Really nice was still an understatement.
“Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow,” Dean sang.
Leo lifted their joined hands. She spun underneath before he drew her back into position. They moved into a slow turn.
“Maybe we should do forced dancing more often,” he said.
“I think you’re on to something, Professor.”
“Would you like to go dancing with me after Christmas? It would give you another reason to wear a fancy dress.”
She searched his face as if trying to uncover his motivation.
“And I’d want to throw in dinner, too.” He worked to sound relaxed instead of what he actually felt—vulnerable. “Because dancing probably makes you hungry at some point.”
“I’d definitely like to go dancing with you after Christmas.”
She would?
He twirled her again, and they fell back into step. “Aren’t you going to take a picture of the dancing?” he teased. “For Instagram?” She looked incredibly cute every time she framed a photo. She always scowled with concentration until she’d captured just the right shot.
“Nope. I left my phone at home. I’m going to have to remember this dance through memory alone. Which won’t be a problem, let me assure you.”
Had she really just said yes?
Had he really just asked her out?
Maddie spent the remainder of Mrs. Pottinger’s Christmas party suspended in a level of happiness akin to that experienced by Miss Americas directly after their crowning.
She talked to people. Danced. Ate two more gluten-free Christmas cookies.
And the whole time, one thought reigned supreme in her mind: Leo asked me out.
The man whose understated personality clicked with her own.
The man who’d been a fabulous husband to Olivia and was a fabulous dad to Charlie.
The man who’d followed through on every one of his Mission:Christmas responsibilities.
The man who was as reliable as he was good. That man had asked her out.
The astonishing truth of it submerged her in excitement, despite the guilt that kept trying to interrupt her delight.
Each time the guilt butted in, Maddie thrust it to the side.
Now wasn’t the time to think through all the ramifications of Leo’s invitation because thinking through the ramifications was guaranteed to tarnish the pleasure.
She wanted, for this one evening, to relish the joy.
Leo Donnelly, the man she’d had a crush on for so, so long, had asked her out.