Chapter Eleven
Lennon
“A re you wearing nail polish?” Wade asks as he passes me a beer.
“Yep.”
Last night, I let Leia talk me into letting her paint my fingers and toes while Amiya made us ham and cheese sandwiches for dinner.
“I played beauty salon with my niece last night. The shit wouldn’t come off this morning,” I add.
I spent an extra thirty minutes in the shower this morning, trying to scrub the peachy color off, but only the bits clinging to the skin around my nail beds would budge.
Amiya promised to stop and get what was needed to remove it while she was out and about today.
Wade laughs. “Thank God I had a boy,” he quips.
“Go ahead and laugh it up. I hope you and Eden end up with a houseful of girls.”
His eyes go wide at the thought, and then his face softens. “Me too.”
“Did you get the ring?” I ask.
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a black velvet box. He thumbs the top open, and tucked inside is an oval diamond ring. “Picked it up on the way here.”
“Nice,” I say as I examine the bauble. “Have you decided when you’re going to give it to her?”
He snaps the box shut. “Not yet. I’m thinking I might take her to the mountains or something after the summer and do it there. The house is chaotic at the moment with Dillon home, her brother visiting, and all the wedding stuff. I’d rather wait until things calm down a bit.”
Wade’s first marriage ended when Dillon was young, and he’s lived the carefree, single-dad life for over a decade. Until Eden moved across the street and he lost his mind and his heart.
Seems the bachelors of Sandcastle Cove are dropping like flies.
Wade looks at his watch as he tucks the ring back into his pocket. “We should probably head that way soon.”
The wedding party consists of Sebastian, me, Wade, Anson, and Parker. Then Avie, Amiya, Eden, and Lisa and Savannah—two of Avie’s cousins.
The cousins arrived this morning with their families. They are lodging in Eden’s house for the duration of their stay, and this evening is our first of several dance lessons.
We pay for our drinks and head out.
“God, I hate this,” I grumble as we make our way to Eden’s studio.
“I’m not excited about it either, but Eden promises she’ll make it as painless as possible,” he assures me.
The music fills the room with a smooth, rhythmic pulse, and I feel a bead of sweat trickle down my back as I take Amiya’s hand in mine.
We’re in a small studio. The wood floor has been polished to a shine beneath our feet. Mirrors cover the walls, reflecting our hesitant movements, showing me how stiff I look and how unsure my feet are compared to Amiya’s fluidity.
I’m not a bad dancer per se. At least, I didn’t think until now. Turns out, it isn’t my forte.
Amiya’s grip is firm, her fingers warm against my skin, and I can tell she’s trying not to laugh at my awkwardness.
She’s obviously better at this than I am, and I have to fight the urge to give up and stomp off the floor, but the wedding is in a few weeks, and I promised I’d try not to embarrass the family with my two left feet.
“Relax, Lennon,” Amiya says, her voice low and calming. “It’s just a simple waltz. You’ve got this.”
I nod even though I’m not entirely convinced.
Eden stands at the front of the room with the posture of a ballet dancer and a no-nonsense attitude. She claps her hands. “From the top,” she instructs, restarting the music.
It’s the melody Sebastian and Avie picked out for their first dance.
We start again, Amiya leading because I still can’t quite remember the steps. It’s something like a box step, but more complicated with the turns and the timing of the music. Amiya’s movements are smooth, almost second nature, while I feel like a robot trying to mimic human motions.
“One, two, three,” Amiya counts softly, guiding me through the rhythm. “Step, turn, step. See? You’re getting the footwork down.”
I’m not sure if she’s lying to make me feel better, but I appreciate the encouragement. I focus on her face, trying to ignore the way the mirrors make me feel like I’m on display. Amiya’s eyes are bright, her smile easy, and I can see she’s enjoying my misery a little too much.
There’s something comforting about that. Her amusement actually spurs me on to learn this damn dance.
I step on her foot for the third time since we started, and she winces but laughs it off.
“Okay, maybe not that foot, but you’re improving.”
“Shit, sorry,” I mutter.
Anson glides by us with one of Avie’s cousins in his hold.
How the fuck is he catching on to this nonsense?
“Fucker,” I mutter, and he grins.
I turn my focus back to Amiya, feeling my face heat up. “Maybe if I’m bad enough, Sebastian and Avie will just let me sit this out. I can hide from my mother behind the cake table.”
Amiya rolls her eyes, pulling me back into position. “You’re not getting out of this, Sailor. So, suck it up and focus. You can do this. And smile, will you? It’s supposed to be fun.”
“Yeah, maybe for people who can actually dance.”
She nudges me with her shoulder, a playful shove that eases the tension in my chest. “I don’t dance like this every day either, but it’s kind of fun once you get the hang of it. Just stop thinking so much and let yourself move.”
I try, concentrating on the feel of her body against mine and the rhythm of the music. Eden and Wade circle us, and she offers occasional pointers but mostly lets Amiya guide me.
“That’s better, Lennon,” Eden boasts.
Wade just shakes his head.
“How the hell did you get so good?” I ask him.
“I’ve had some private instruction,” he says with a wink.
“Cheater,” I mumble.
After a few more attempts, something starts to click. I’m not exactly graceful, but I’m not tripping over my own feet or Amiya’s as much.
“See? I knew you could do it,” Amiya says, and the note of reassurance in her voice makes me feel like maybe I’m not completely hopeless.
We continue practicing, repeating the steps over and over until the movements become almost natural. By the time the lesson ends, I’m sweating, but there’s a sense of accomplishment too. Amiya and I stand side by side, watching our reflection in the mirrors as Eden gives us a final critique.
“Good job, everyone. You’ve made some real progress,” she says, looking at me specifically. “With a little more practice, you’ll be ready for the wedding.”
I nod, too tired to say much, but Amiya beams at the compliment.
“We’ll keep practicing. Every night,” she promises, her hand still resting on my arm. There’s a heat in her touch that I’m suddenly very aware of.
“Every night?” I question as my eyes flicker down to her.
“If that’s what it takes.”
Shit.
Eden dismisses us, and we grab our things, heading out into the early evening. The sky is glowing, the sun setting in a blaze of color that feels almost surreal after the dimness of the studio.
“So,” Amiya says, her tone teasing, “don’t worry; I’ll whip you into shape before the wedding.”
I shrug, though there’s a small smile on my face. “Good. Seb would never let me live it down if I bailed.”
“And I’d never let you live it down if you made me look bad either.”
We walk to her car in comfortable silence, the sound of our footsteps echoing off the sidewalk. It’s a warm night, the kind that makes everything feel a little more relaxed, a little more possible.
“Lennon.”
I turn back at the sound of Parker calling my name.
“Wings and beer at the condo,” he shouts.
I look over at Amiya and raise my brows in question.
“Sounds good to me,” she says as she rounds the hood of the car.
“We’ll be there,” I call back.