The candles flickered while the violins swelled. The air between us shifted into something warm and close as he drew me gently into his arms. And even though I kept reminding myself this was temporary… Even though I told myself over and over that this was fragile and fleeting…it was impossible not to feel how right it felt, just for tonight, to stop fighting and simply let myself fall into the moment.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Her hand fit in mine more naturally than I was prepared for. When I guided Brianna onto the dance floor, her cheeks were already flushed from the warmth of the room and the weight of all those curious glances. As the music swelled, I set one hand gently at her waist, and she rested her other hand on my shoulder.
The world blurred around us.
“Relax,” she whispered, a soft teasing tug in her smile. “I won’t let you embarrass yourself.”
I huffed a laugh. “I’m not worried about embarrassing myself. I’m worried about stepping on your toes.”
“You’re doing fine so far.”
Her eyes glimmered in the light and–God help me–I felt it again. That pull. That dangerous, quiet awareness of her. We settled into a rhythm quicker than I expected. My hand at her waist, her breath brushing my collar, the soft glide of our steps as the room spun gently around us. I tried not to stare, but she looked… radiant.
“Are you enjoying this?” I asked, noticing the relaxed tilt of her smile.
“The dancing?” she shrugged. “Well, I grew up with all of this. You know–The christmas balls, the community, even the gossipy grannies. My gran wasn’t one to let me sit still.”
“Smart woman.”
“She’d have liked you,” Brianna said before she could stop herself.
Her cheeks reddened instantly.
“And you’d have liked her,” she added quickly, as if correcting the intimacy of her first statement.
“I’m sure I would have,” I said softly.
Her breath caught. She tried to mask it with a playful roll of her eyes, but the moment hung between us long enough that even the lights seemed to pause. Trying to ease the tension, I spun her gently. She let out a quiet laugh, a breath of sound, warm and precious, and came back into my arms with a soft thud. And for a second, we just stood there, close enough that I could feel the warmth of her skin through the delicate fabric of her dress. But then her smile faltered.
“Oliver…” she began carefully, “how much longer will you be here?”
The question sank into me like a stone.
“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. “It depends on the roads, when the flights start up again and of course, the weather.”
“And what about my bakery?” she pressed quietly. “Are you any closer to deciding what happens to it?”
The music softened around us. The dancers swayed. Someone laughed near the punch bowl. But all of it felt very far away.
“I’m doing everything I can,” I said. “But I can’t give you a final answer yet.”
Her eyes sharpened, not with anger, but with something far worse: disappointment.
“You mean your family hasn’t changed their mind.”
“I’mtryingto get them to,” I said. “There’s more at play here than you know. Money. Pressure. Expectations. But Brianna, I’m not–”
“So that’s it?” she cut in, voice tightening. “You’re just going to do what you’re told and leave us all behind?” She paused, biting her bottom lip, “Leave me behind?”
Leave her. The words stabbed deeper than they should have.
“It’s not like that,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “I gave you my word–I’m not letting your bakery go without a fight.”
She shook her head once, sharply. “Words don’t mean much to people in your world, do they?”
The music reached its final note, and she slipped out of my arms.