Once outside, she took the staircase down to the path that cut across the grounds. The moon sat low in the late-summer sky as she followed the trail of lights along the walkway to the gazebo. Her heels clicked softly against the wood as she stepped inside and headed over to the railing.

She looked out at the clubhouse, watching the guests mingle on the terrace. A light breeze brushed over her shoulders, and she listened as the beginning strains of Etta James’s “At Last” drifted down to the gazebo. She heard footsteps, then felt Vaughn’s arms circle her waist.

She closed her eyes and leaned back against his chest.

His voice was low in her ear. “Isn’t there some tradition that says the best man and maid of honor have to dance together?”

She smiled. “I’m not sure about a tradition. But I like the idea in this case.” She turned around and slid her hand into his.

They began moving slowly together to the music, their bodies close.

“I’ve been thinking about something,” Vaughn said, with a teasing look in his eyes.

“I bet you have.”

“Not that. Well, yes, that, but something else, too.” He studied her. “Your reaction in the church garden, when I got down on one knee . . . When the time comes, is that going to be your answer? A panicked, ‘Oh my God, what are you doing?’”

Sidney shifted even closer to him, her thumb stroking over the backs of his fingers. “That wasn’t panic, that was shock. Ten minutes before that, I’d been worried you’d spent the night with another woman.”

“Hmm.”

When he said nothing further, she watched him with a coy smile.

“What?” he asked.

“I’m just waiting for your eye to start twitching after the reference to you getting down on one knee ‘when the time comes.’”

Instead of answering, he simply began humming along with the song as they danced. Not an eye twitch in sight.

“You do realize that getting down on one knee generally refers to a proposal, right?” Sidney continued. “A marriage proposal?”

His eyes, a warm green-gold, daringly held hers as he softly sang the next line of the song. “‘You smiled . . . and then the spell was cast.’”

Okay, he pretty much just melted her heart right there.

Still, she’d never been one to back down from a challenge from Vaughn Roberts. “All right, if that doesn’t get you all twitchy, how about this? I had a random thought earlier today, that if we have kids, they’ll probably look freakishly similar to Isabelle and Simon’s.”

The song was on its final lyric—At last—and Vaughn took her hands and wrapped them around his neck.

“Kids, Roberts,” she said, just to be clear. “I have fertile eggs in me, and I’m talking about having babies.”

She waited for the eye twitch. Or hell, even a tiny twinge.

Instead, with a smile, he pulled her in for a kiss.