Chapter 3 #2
“The song! Sondheim–it’s called ‘No One Is Alone’–I remembered!”
He clinked the rim of his glass against hers in congratulation.
If they’d been here three weeks ago, the air would have been filled with Christmas songs, the place decorated for the holidays. He took a handful of marcona almonds. As he munched, he felt his body relax, more than it had in years.
Until he saw a little kid in his peripheral vision.
The girl had long, dark brown hair in braids on either side of her head.
Clutching a teddy bear, she followed a harried woman pulling a large suitcase with a smaller one balanced on top, the whole contraption bungee-corded together.
A man wearing a wool topcoat over a suit was with her, carrying an infant in one of those front-pack carriers.
The two were clearly frazzled and snapping at each other.
Reminded Dennis of carrying a forty-pound backpack on his front. Weighed more and was way less fun than a baby.
Corners of her mouth turned down, the girl looked up at her parents with sad eyes.
His hands began to shake.
Ana’s gaze followed his, and although he wasn’t looking directly at the child, she knew.
Knew something was wrong.
“Do you know them?” she asked politely, but he could tell she was holding back. Someone so perceptive would see the pattern soon.
Two different kids.
Two destabilizing reactions.
“No,” he said, using her own technique to forestall talking, lifting a piece of cheese from a stack on the wooden board and putting it in his mouth. A burst of fruit hit his taste buds, maybe some fig jam somewhere in there.
The parents continued marching toward the elevators, the woman putting her hand on the little girl’s back, guiding her.
Ana smiled sweetly. “You have kids?”
“Me?”
“No. I was asking the olives.” She gestured to the bowl. “Yes, you.”
“No. God, no.”
“Don’t want them?”
“Uh….”
“That was a pretty intense response.”
“I just meant no. No kids. No wife, no picket fence, none of that. The life I live doesn’t really allow for it.” He frowned, rethinking his words. “Lived. The life I lived.”
“Past tense hard to get used to?”
“It’s more like getting used to a whole new vocabulary.”
“Or maybe you’re regretting your choice?”
He closed his eyes and willed intrusive images away.
“No regrets.”
“Was it an epiphany?”
“Huh?”
“An epiphany. You know.” She used her hands to mimic fireworks. “Poof! Instant life change. Mindset change. You just suddenly knew you needed to go down a different path.”
“Something like that.”
“But not that, exactly?”
“Right.”
“But you said leaving the military was your choice?”
His gut tightened at the question.
“Honorable in every way.” Cynicism was hard to hold back, but he did his best. “Retired with full benefits.”
“Something haunts you, though.”
“In my line of work? If it didn’t, that would be a problem.”
“Don’t worry, Dennis. I already figured out you’re not a psychopath.”
“Oh, yeah? You sure?”
“Yes.” Her brow knitted. “Maybe. I’m questioning my radar these days.”
“Because of your ex?”
“Mmm hmm.”
“He’s an idiot.”
“You don’t even know him.”
“Anyone who hurt you would have to be.”
The way she stared at him turned his world upside down. Heart, too. He felt the perpetual knot of control that pervaded every moment of his existence loosen just a little, just enough to sense how she connected to him.
Accustomed to being the one in charge, responsible for everything when it went wrong and taken for granted when it went right, he was completely blindsided by this plane of existence.
A space where he could breathe her in and she really saw him.
Reading a woman’s signals wasn’t new, and Ana was sending plenty of interested vibes his way. Would she spend the night with him if he asked? He got the feeling that a direct approach would scare her off, and besides, he didn’t want just a one-night stand.
Not with her.
Ana was the kind of woman you savored. One brief taste with all the walls up would feel like a pale imitation of what could be.
He wanted so much more.
“Dennis?”
“Yes?”
“Are you going to hurt me?”
Having the wind knocked out of him was common on his missions, a physical state that sucked and hurt, but it was time limited. Pain limited, too. Like so many blows, he knew it would pass.
But never in his life had a woman done it with one simple question.
“Hell, no,” he rasped, taking in a long, deep breath until he found his bearings again.
Who was this woman?
And why did those pretty brown eyes seem to see directly into his soul?
“Good,” she said, popping a grape in her mouth, smiling. After she swallowed, she added, “Because I think we’re both carrying around a lot of hurt right now. How about we find a way to let some of it go?”
“How would we do that?”
As if on cue, the jazz quartet began playing “It Had to Be You,” the first notes making them both smile. No singer accompanied the band, the soft drum beat and piano coming through. Couples began floating to the dance floor, an even split of folks with gray hair and younger couples their age.
“Do you dance?” he asked with a smile he didn’t know he still had.
“Me? You mean, like that?” Pointing to the group of eight or so couples, all milling close to the band, she seemed completely taken aback.
In command, he made a decision. Standing and looking down at her, he held out his hand. Those minky lashes framed wide, curious eyes, her cheeks pinker than when they first sat down.
“Come on, Ana. Let’s drop some of that hurt on the dance floor.”
With a laugh that was pure warmth for the cold corners of his heart, she stood and looked at the dancers, biting the side of her lip nervously.
“I’m more of a line dancer. You know. Macarena. Electric Slide.”
“You’ve never gone to a middle school or high school dance? Been a bridesmaid? Danced with your dad?” He winced, hating himself for that last one. “Sorry. Insert boot in mouth.”
“That would hurt.”
She took his outstretched hand, their touch electrifying. It wasn’t just him–she felt it, too.
Whatever this was, whatever it might be, it was enough in this moment. That’s all Dennis had, and it was all he could focus on.
Leading her to the dance floor, he put one hand on her waist, her soft curves so tempting to explore, but he was a gentleman.
Trying to be, at least.
Both her hands went to his shoulders and he couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Here,” he murmured in her ear, taking the moment to inhale her scent. Something cinnamon and sugar was in the air around her skin, and he had a flash of his hometown bakery, all warm and cozy.
All smiles and love.
His hand took one of hers, leaving the other on his shoulder, and he began to lead.
Ignoring the beating his toes were taking, he used a simple box step, but she stumbled.
“Sorry! I’m so sorry!”
“For what?”
“I’m hurting you!”
“It takes a lot more than that to hurt me. You’re learning.”
“I–”
“Just soften. Follow. Let your body go with me.”
“How do you know how to dance like this?” As her joints relaxed and she leaned into him, they began to flow together a bit more.
“Just do.”
“The Army made you learn?”
“Shhh, Ana. Just have fun.” He smiled down at her and her eyes met his.
“You are nothing but surprises,” she said, one eyebrow going high.
“Is that a good or bad thing?”
“I think I need to get to know you better to answer that.”
“Ah,” he said, pulling her closer. “A good thing.”