Chapter 17 #2
“Betty, of course!” I step back with a smile. Betty used to sneak me lollipops if I got stuck waiting for Dad in his office after school. I’ve just finished meeting her husband and introducing Linden when there’s a shout from the ballroom.
“Here he is!” someone calls out.
All heads turn to where Dad and Darienne are framed in the doorway. The music changes to the Falcon’s fight song, and guests crowd to the entrance.
Dad’s face lights up. He raises his clasped hand with Darienne, who gives a good-natured laugh. Guests form rows on either side of them as they make their way down the length of the ballroom, singing along, high fiving, pumping their fists in the air, the noise big and electric—just like game days.
Dad and Darienne make their way down the tunnel. My heart skips in my chest as I soak up his giant smile and the gratitude written all over his face. He’s looking sharp in charcoal gray slacks and a dress shirt, his salt and pepper hair recently trimmed. Even his normally bushy eyebrows look tamed.
The song reaches its finale and I join in, pumping my fist in the air. “Go! Fight! Win!” I cry.
Applause and whistling fill the air and Dad and Darienne get swallowed by a throng of his players and colleagues. The music changes to “Walking on Sunshine,” and there are smiles and laughter everywhere.
“Now I can scratch attending the Academy Awards off my list,” Linden says in my ear. “This was better.”
Laughing, I glance up at him, but his deep brown eyes are sincere. The moment turns charged, like the pull of a magnet. I take a half step back to recalibrate, but I can still feel the pull of him.
The crowd starts to disperse and the line at the bar quadruples. I hover outside of the circle around Dad and Darienne, waiting for a quiet moment to greet them.
Finally, Dad sees me, and he breaks into a huge smile. “Meggers!” he calls out, reaching for me.
I slip past a couple of guests and step into Dad’s embrace. His thick arms and barrel chest pressed tight around me make the wait worthwhile. He smells of Old Spice with that hint of coffee I will always associate with our Sunday mornings together—the one day a week that was just for us.
“Thanks for being here tonight, honey,” he says in my ear.
“Congratulations, Dad.”
“Thanks, kiddo.”
When I lean back, his gaze lifts to Linden standing next to me.
“Dad, do you remember Linden?” I ask, smiling up at him.
Dad gives Linden an appraising glance as they shake hands. “You’re the firefighter.”
“That’s right,” Linden replies.
I lock eyes with Darienne, who flashes me a cordial smile. “Meg, so good to see you back on your feet.”
Dad’s gaze flicks from me to Linden, a look of polite curiosity on his face. Is he piecing together that Linden’s here as my date? “Nice of you to join us tonight.”
“Congratulations on a successful career,” Linden replies with a nod.
Dad glances around and rocks on his toes. “Man, there’s a lotta people here. It’s wild.”
“You’ve touched a lot of lives, Dad,” I say with a laugh.
“Maybe I have,” he muses, shaking his head.
More people crowd in, and I step back to let Dad reclaim the spotlight. The party’s now in full swing, with laughter and conversation blending with the music pumping from the overhead speakers.
Linden places his hand on the small of my back, like he knows I need something real to ground me in this lively atmosphere. Only, is it real? I spin the bracelet around my wrist.
“What does it mean?” I ask him.
His gaze drops to my wrist, then his eyes find mine. “You’re braver than you know.”
His unrelenting focus makes me squirm, but I force myself to hold his gaze. “Damn right.”
From the ballroom, a group of new guests crowd into the space, joking and laughing together. I don’t have to look to identify Russel, and that they’re heading our way.
Linden pauses, like he can read the mix of apprehension and inexplicable desire coursing through me, then gives me a sultry grin that sends a shiver down my arms. “Don’t look so scared, shortcake.”
I laugh, and his eyes darken with a smoldering heat that coils down, down into the pit of my stomach.
He leans in and I lift my face to his. Our lips touch, the softness of his mouth so welcoming and tender.
I slide my hands to his waist, where he’s strong and firm beneath my fingers, the crisp cotton of his dress shirt warmed by his skin.
My breath gets trapped in my chest as I lean in a little more and kiss him back.
A ripple of heat cascades down my body, creating a tight ache between my thighs.
Like a need. His lips are plush and full and demanding, sending my thoughts spinning.
Linden pulls back, a look of playful hunger in his eyes. He wets his lips with the tip of his tongue, and then he smiles.
“How’d I do?” he asks in a low tone that sends a shiver skating across my skin.
I swallow, and try to smile back, but my legs feel noodly and I’m gripping his waist like my life depends on it. I’m breathing too fast and my poor heart is knocking into my throat, like she wants out.
“What?” I manage .
His cocky grin sends more heat to my core. “Good enough to be my somebody?”
The wedding. Right! “Let’s say I’m very encouraged.”
He laughs, but it’s obvious he knows I’m bluffing. My cheeks are hot and I’m practically panting.
From the ballroom comes the announcement for dinner. Guests begin moving toward the tables, but I don’t move, and neither does Linden.
He brushes the side of my face, and it takes everything I have not to reach up and trap it there. Just to give me a few more seconds of his touch. So I can make sure that kiss was real.
A shaky laugh leaves my lips. With that easy smile still on his face, Linden takes my hand and leads me toward the ballroom. I catch a glimpse of Russel standing in the doorway, a wounded look in his eyes.