Salvatore dropped his forehead to mine. “I don’t think I would mind that.”
After that, we were swept up in the spinning lights, bursts of laughter, champagne bubbles, and tiny sparks of joy during the reception. Clara and Jake did their bride and groom thing, drifting from table to table, hand in hand, greeting family and friends, never letting go of one another.
They were perfect.
Shira and Roman were too. Roman was more than a foot taller, but he curled himself around her as they danced. It was their first real night out since they’d had Jonah, and they looked like they were enjoying every second of it.
I ached watching my friends with their loves. My girls were taken care of. Adored the ways they deserved. Clara had her strong, steady Jake, who was the best girl dad any man had ever been. And Shira had her Roman, who worshipped the ground she walked on and worked hard to make her believe she was the most beautiful, kind, lovely woman on the planet. Because she was.
They were happy and cared for.
And so was I.
The music shifted from celebratory into something slower, and I leaned into Salvatore, slipping my arms around his middle. He splayed his warm hand on the center of my back, his thumb stroking over the bare skin between my shoulders.
“I can’t promise I’ll be any good at this.”
“You admit there’s something you might not be good at?” I teased.
“Bea—”
“Sal.” Taking his hand, I led him to the edge of the dance floor, away from the twirling couples filling the middle. “All you have to do is hold me. We’ll just sway.”
He slid his arms around me, a little stiff at first, until I guided one of his hands to the small of my back and curled my fingers into the hair at his nape. His other hand held mine, warm and firm. He was sure about this. Salvatore knew exactly how to hold me.
I pushed up on my toes, my lips grazing his ear. “Now we move.”
“Here we go,” he mouthed.
He led me in slow circles, barely rocking. His chest rose and fell against mine, tension easing out of him with each rotation.
His forehead pressed to my temple. “This is nice.”
I smiled. “You’re good at this.”
“I’m good at holding you.”
“I’m easy when it comes to you. That’s all I need.”
We didn’t speak after that. Didn’t need to. We just moved together, locked in our own little orbit while the reception spun around us. I closed my eyes and tucked my face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in.
We swayed, holding each other close. Once again, the world narrowed until it was just us—our bodies pressed together, surrounded by the scent of flowers, champagne, and cake.
“You’re smiling,” I murmured.
“You can’t even see me.”
“I feel it. And I like it.”
His smiles had been few and far between lately. He’d been buried under the rubble of his decimated friendship and all the work Sam’s departure had left behind. Even still, he’d given those scant smiles and rare laughter to me and the kids.
And I was always greedy for more. More of Sal’s laughter. More carefree moments. His dry humor…well, everything about him.
He angled his face close to mine. “I like when you’re happy.”
This man…he didn’t get it. He couldn’t possibly understand how much I loved him, how badly he wrecked me.
Thelights flickered above us, like shooting stars in a man-made sky, and I melted into him completely. Tonight, there was no more stress. No more fires to put out. No more Sam or Nox. No more anything but us.
