Page 47 of Lawbreaker

Tony laughed. “I can put away a fifth of bourbon and keep going. But drinking is a bad habit, and I’m not the person I used to be.” His dark eyes twinkled. “Well,” he corrected, “not so much, anyway. I mostly stick to coffee now.”

“I like latte,” John replied. “I bought this little coffee machine that uses pods so I can make my own. It’s a long drive to a coffee shop from here,” he added ruefully.

“I get the beans and grind my own coffee,” Tony chuckled. “I’m a fanatic about good coffee.”

“Coffee is one of the major food groups,” Odalie added as she joined them. “You sadist,” she told Ray. “My big toe will never be the same. I’m telling Maude!”

“Please don’t,” Ray pleaded. “She’ll banish me to the laundry room, and I’ll be washing diapers until my hands wrinkle up and fall off!”

“Well, all right,” Odalie conceded. “I wouldn’t wish that on you. Honest.” She grinned at him. “And you’re not a bad dancer, compared to a goose.”

He made a face at her. “Was she always like this?” he asked John.

“Oh, no,” John said at once, with a mischievous look at his sister. “She was worse!”

“Worms!” Odalie threatened.

John put down his coffee. “Ray, let’s go look at Dad’s new bull and get out of the range of fire,” he said quickly, taking Ray by the arm. He shot Odalie a grin and they left.

Tony was still amused. He shook his head, looking at her pretty little feet. “No stockings?” he asked, wondering.

“I was hoping nobody would notice,” she confessed, noting that her skirt was ankle length. “It’s too hot for hose!”

“I never wear them myself,” Tony replied deadpan.

She laughed. The idea of Tony in pantyhose was hilarious. “Connie would have a field day talking about that!”

He chuckled.

“Why aren’t you dancing?” Heather asked as she joined them. “Just look, only two couples on the dance floor. Those poor boys in the band look so miserable. They’re playing this lovely music and everybody’s too busy eating to enjoy it!”

“We can fix that.” Tony put down his coffee and took Odalie by the arm.

“My feet...” she complained.

“You’re the one who wanted to go barefoot,” he pointed out.

“My shoes are worse than bare feet.”

He glanced at her as they reached the dance floor. “Then why did you buy them?”

“They’re the latest style,” she replied sadly.

“Style is individual. Buy what looks good on you. Don’t be a lackey to the fashion houses.” He took her by the waist and pulled her closer as the band broke into a cha-cha. “I think I remember that you know how to do this?” he teased.

“Do I!”

She followed his quick steps exactly, loving his hand around hers, his big hand at her waist. She laughed. It was another moment out of time. She felt joy well up in her like a fountain. Her face was luminous with it.

Tony saw her reaction and felt it all the way to his feet. She was magic on a dance floor. He was surprised all over again at how easily they moved together.

“Feet still hurt?” he asked as the band finished the song.

She flexed them. “Just sore. My own fault. Stupid shoes.”

He sighed and pulled her close as a sentimental slow tune began to lift from the band. He did a complicated box step, which she followed with ease. She smiled and closed her eyes as they moved around the floor.

“You aren’t looking where you’re going,” he chided softly.

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