Page 88 of The Second Dance
I’ve been waiting for years to hear that.
I’ve already fallen for this girl once.
The second time around is even easier.
I’d do it again and again. I won’t get lost.
My feet already know the way.
50.
Andy
Epilogue
Swede Days are a big deal in Thorne County.
It’s like the county fair, if it were run by party animals with a penchant for barbecue and street dances.
I went to the tractor pull and the fireman’s battle when I was a kid, but I was too young to attend the evening festivities.
Now that I’ve shed my inferiority complex, the town stuff is actually kind of fun. I helped cook during the pancake feed in the morning. I cheered Bo and Skyler on while the fire department blasted a five foot tall beach ball back and forth with two opposing fire hoses.
And I’m continually surprised by the warm welcome I receive from the people in this community. I always felt like an outsider looking in, but now I’m realizing I wasn’t being left out, I was opting out.
For the first time, maybe since I was eight or nine years old, I’m actually proud of my hometown.
It’s been fun, but what I’ve really been looking forward to is the street dance.
Bo has been talking it up for weeks and as the live band strikes the first chords on their song, I have to admit, there’s an electric charge in the air.
It’s a perfect night for it. They’ve strung lights over the street. A gentle breeze makes the lights sway, pushes my skirt around my thighs.
Bo finds me in the crowd. He’s wearing his gray Silver Bend Fire Department t-shirt and carrying two beers. “Did I mention I like that dress you’ve got on?”
I bite back a grin. “Once or twice.”
He grins, handing me a beer. He turns to watch the band. “What do you think?”
I shrug.
He slides his hand along the small of my back, fingers curling around my hip. “That’s it?”
My lips tug into a grin. “You might have been right.”
“What’s that? I didn’t hear you. This amazing music is hard to hear over.”
I laugh. “Don’t push your luck.”
“Baby, I’ve been pushing my luck since the day I met you.” He takes my beer and sets it on a nearby table. “Case in point, would you care to dance?”
“Well, maybe I would.”
He takes my hand with a radiant smile and leads me to the middle of the street. Neighbors two-step around us. Young people pretzel on the perimeters, young guys flinging their dates around like acrobats.
He follows my gaze. “Should I do that with you?”
“Only if you have a death wish.”
