Chapter 49
SADIE
I pull Milo along, my arm wrapped within his, toward the reception—where they’ve promised dessert and dancing.
“This part might get tricky, Bookworm,” Milo says in a low tone.
“It’s Jo, honey,” I correct. “And Jo really wants to dance.”
“Oh, does she?” he says as he suddenly slides his hand down my arm to grab hold of my palm and spin me around.
I can feel my grin press deep against my cheeks. “She loves dancing.”
“Well, I suppose since Noah loves his wife, he could indulge her.”
“He’s a good man,” I tease, pressing a soft kiss on Milo’s cheek.
Everyone begins to filter into the room, and we stand in a corner and watch as all these strangers mingle and take seats.
I rise up to my tiptoes, whispering in Milo’s ear. “See any eligible bachelors for my lips?”
He turns his head quickly, placing his mouth on mine for a quick kiss before he leans back and smiles at me.
“A stranger.” I laugh. “You don’t qualify.”
“It was worth a shot.” He shrugs as he pretends to look around the room.
“Check, check, check!” a playful deep voice echoes through the speaker. “The newlyweds will be arriving soon, but while we wait, let’s get this party started!”
A familiar song pulses through the room—“I Gotta Feeling” by the Black Eyed Peas.
Excitement zips up my spine, and when I look up at Milo, he’s already watching me with a knowing grin, and I wonder if he sees a girl wearing a pink prom dress like I see a boy in a tux with a pink tie and a boutonniere made of a lily and baby’s breath.
“Let’s dance, Mrs. Darcy.” He chuckles, taking my hand.
I squeal, both out loud and internally.
We’re the first on the dance floor, but I’m not dancing with a stranger. I’m dancing with a man who learned to dance with me. He anticipates my movements before I even make them, ten years completely evaporated in a song.
I shake my hips, and my shoulders ride the beat. Laughter soon bubbles up in my chest, light and loud. Everyone in the room becomes a blur of color. Milo leans in and says, “Do you trust me?”
With no hesitation I say, “Of course.”
There’s a devious spark in his blue eyes when he wraps his arms around me in a way he never has, spinning me horizontally and stopping just before my body would hit the ground.
My body feels weightless, like a feather in his hands.
When he brings me back to my feet, my eyes are wide. “Where did you learn that?”
“You don’t know everything about me, Bookworm,” he teases.
“Can we do that again?” I ask.
“My night is all yours.”
Each song fuses old moves with new ones, familiarity blending with excitement.
Sweat beads on my skin, and a smile permanently etches itself on my face.
I feel like the butterfly on my shoulder, free and hopeful.
And the way Milo is looking at me makes me feel like the world isn’t as hard as I’ve been expecting it to be.
“Yo! Yo! Yo!” the DJ shouts into the microphone. “The wedding couple has requested a dance-off for the bouquet! All unmarried couples, get out here! And all those looking for a hap-hap-happily ever after, find someone to make it happen!”
I feel a twist of hesitation in my stomach, but Milo’s eyes are wrinkling in amusement at the announcement. “How much does Jo love to dance?”
The song cues up, loud and energetic.
“Let’s do this,” I say, putting my hand in Milo’s.
A thrill trickles up my spine as couples are tapped out and we remain in play.
My movements become more exaggerated, my body leaning more into Milo than before, fully trusting he’ll lead me where I need to go next.
He spins me, holds me close, and even steals quick kisses on my shoulder.
I’ve never felt so alive, so certain in my uncertainty.
I don’t even realize we’re the last couple on the dance floor until the music cuts and the DJ announces, “We have our winner!”
He brings a microphone to us, and my brain finally catches up to this moment.
“Groom or bride’s side?” he asks.
“Groom,” I say, breathless and a little less certain than before.
“Name?” he asks next, putting the microphone up to my mouth.
“Jo and Noah Darcy,” I answer.
When I look around the room, I see people whispering and cocking their heads to the side as they study us.
“Jo and Noah Darcy! You’ve won the bride’s bouquet,” the DJ shouts into the microphone.
I take the gorgeous bouquet of roses and baby’s breath tied up in mauve silk in my hands, staring at it, heat engulfing me.
The DJ covers the microphone with his hand. “Wait—are you married?”
Oops. We might have gotten a little carried away . . .
“Um, no,” I mumble.
The DJ’s brows furrow. “Siblings?”
“Heck no,” Milo answers.
It’s at this moment the groom steps forward, a look of concern flashing across his face as he shakes his head and loudly declares, “We don’t know these people.”
Laughter ripples through the room.
“Do you know the groom?” the DJ asks me again in a whisper.
I shake my head. “Nope,” I reply honestly.
I give the bouquet back to the DJ before I grab Milo’s hand, laughing as we bolt for the door.
“Wait!” I dig my heels into the wooden floor, stopping. “I have to kiss a stranger!”
“Sadie! That can wait,” Milo utters, squeezing my hand.
My eyes search the people around me. I see a man. Maybe thirty. Dark hair and a mustache. That should feel interesting. I let go of Milo and move quickly toward the man. “Are you married?”
He begins to shake his head when a woman to his left grunts and says sharply, “He most certainly is.”
My cheeks flush. “Sorry.”
“I’m not married.” It’s a small voice belonging to a boy who’s maybe ten, his cheeks still round and unchanged from hormones. A familiarity in his blond hair and blue eyes. I look down, smiling, to see if his shoelaces are tied. They are.
I bend down slightly. “Do you have a girlfriend?”
He shakes his head. “Nope.”
“Can I kiss you?” I ask.
His eyes widen, and the cutest smile blooms on his face. He nods.
I smile back at him and leave an imprint of my red lips on his soft cheek.
“I hope you have a wonderful life,” I say softly before I turn, grabbing Milo’s outstretched hand, and we continue to run away from the wedding we crashed.