Chloe laughed. “Sounds like someone has been reading the gospel of Henry DeSantis.”

“Hey, she asked,” I said, putting one palm up. “I didn’t force it on her.”

“No, I love it,” Sylvia gushed, putting her hand on my fucking thigh. “I find it fascinating.”

“I’m sure.” The smirk on Chloe’s face, paired with the look she exchanged with Frannie, told me we were not fooling the Sawyer sisters. Only Meg seemed a little clueless, but then, she and Noah were pretty wrapped up in each other.

My first drink went down easy and fast, so I had another. The whiskey eased my nerves and relaxed the tension in my shoulders, but it did nothing to take the edge off the desire I felt for the woman next to me. During dinner, I laughed and talked with everyone at the table, but every time she looked in my direction or gave me a smile or put a hand on my leg, I felt like I was coming out of my skin.

After dessert, the band switched from big band dinner music to more upbeat oldies, and people swarmed the dance floor. After some coaxing, Mack agreed to dance with Frannie but slammed the rest of his beer first. Chloe convinced Oliver to get out there too, but Noah said there was no way in hell he was dancing until his current beer was empty, so Sylvia and I sat talking to them for a while.

I’m not sure when I put my arm around the back of Sylvia’s chair, but I suddenly realized it was there when I noticed Meg staring at it. If I hadn’t been halfway through my third whiskey, I might have removed it.

The band began to play a classic Elvis Presley ballad, and Sylvia turned to me with a hopeful look in her eye. “You wouldn’t want to dance with me by any chance, would you? I love this song.”

“Uh, I’m not much of a dancer.”

“I don’t mind.”

The idea of holding her close, even on a crowded dance floor, was too tempting to resist. “Okay.”

We walked onto the floor and found a spot among the slow-moving couples. She came into my arms as naturally as if we’d been dancing together for years. I could smell her perfume, and inhaled deeply. The scent stirred up memories of her bare skin on mine, and provoked a response in my body that I couldn’t exactly hide. I glanced over her shoulder at the table where the kids were sitting and saw Whitney watching us, transfixed.

“Thanks for this,” Sylvia said, looking up at me. “I know it’s probably not comfortable.”

“Your daughter is looking a little unsettled.”

Sylvia shook her head. “I’m not even turning around to look at her. We are dancing, that’s all.”

“Okay.” But I adjusted my hold on her, putting a little more space between our bodies.

Sylvia laughed. “Are you trying to leave room for the Holy Ghost?”

“I’m trying to be a good person, and you make it hard.”

She nestled in closer, pressing her breasts against my chest. “How hard?” she whispered.

“Oh, Jesus.” I shook my head. “You need to stop. My mind is going to some dangerous places right now.”

“Tell me about it.” Then she went up on tiptoe to whisper in my ear. “And use all the dirty words. You know how I like them.”

I groaned, closing my eyes for a second. “Sylvia. We’re in a room full of people and we’re being watched.”

She giggled and backed off—a little. “Okay, okay. Sorry. Misbehaving is new to me, and I’m a little addicted to it.”

For the rest of the song, I told myself not to worry so much and just enjoy the feel of her in my arms. This was as much of her as I would get tonight, so I might as well savor it. When the song ended, we walked back to our table hand in hand.

“Hey, Syl,” Meg said brightly, picking her purse up from the floor. “Come to the ladies’ room with me.”

“Okay.” Sylvia reached beneath her chair for her purse before turning to me. “Be right back.”

“No problem.” I watched her walk away with her sister and knew in my gut Meg was going to ask her what was going on with us. It still didn’t stop me from staring at Sylvia’s butt and the way that skirt clung and shimmered as she moved.

“So,” Noah said, tipping up his beer. “How long have you been in love with Sylvia?”

I made a sound somewhere between a choke and a laugh. “Uh, since I saw her in that skirt?”

Noah nodded and touched his beer bottle to my glass. “Good answer.”

Seventeen

Sylvia

Meg dashed past the ladies’ room at the pace of an Olympic sprinter. “There could be people in there. Come in here.”

I felt myself being dragged into the catering office at the end of the hall. “Meg, what on earth?”

“We need to talk.” She shut the door, snapped on the overhead light, and turned to face me, her eyes gleaming. “What’s going on with you and Henry?”

“Um . . .”

“Don’t even bother lying to me. I can see that there’s a thing between you. You’re all over him.”

“What? I am not.”

She rolled her eyes. “Syl, you’ve practically been in his lap all night. And he’s been looking at you with that look in his eye.”

“What look?”

Her brows peaked. “The I’ve got ideas look. Now tell the truth.” She folded her arms. “Did you sleep with him?”

I sighed, giving up the pretense. “Yes.”

She squealed and clapped her hands. “Yay! Once?”

“Yes.” Then I grinned. “Once in the hallway, once in his bed, once in his bathtub, and once in his office.”

The smile slid off Meg’s face, her expression morphing from delight to shock. “Are you fucking kidding me? You’ve done it that many times since you’ve been home?”

“Well, most of that happened last Saturday night. But yeah, things did move kind of quickly.” I lifted my shoulders. “I’m a little scared how quickly, actually.”

“Why? He seems like such a great guy.”

“Because he is a great guy. Because I like him so much. Because if my life were different and not so fucked up, he’d be exactly the kind of guy I was looking for.” I swallowed hard. “I could fall for him so easily, Meg.”

“But your life isn’t fucked up anymore, Syl—that’s the beautiful thing.” She took me by the shoulders. “Don’t scare yourself out of giving him a chance.”

“I’m not, I swear.” I shook my head. “In fact, I’d probably be wise to be more cautious, not less. But I can’t seem to stay away from him.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“There’s this voice,” I blurted.

“Voice?”

“In my head,” I explained. “And it makes me doubt myself. It makes me feel like I can’t trust what I’m feeling.”

“Don’t listen to it,” she said, as if it were that easy.

“But—”

“But nothing. I know how unhappy you were last fall—how unhappy you’ve been for years. If the thought of being with Henry makes you happy, you should give him a chance.”