Page 82 of Eight Steps to Alpha

She flattened one hand to his stomach, catching herself before she lost her balance. “Oh?” she asked, giggling. “What’s that?”

“I heard that you love to dance.” Elliot’s voice mimicked that of her aunt Maria’s accent as he cupped one of her hands. “How did I not know that about you?”

She grinned up at him. “Don’t believe everything they tell you, Elliot Prescott. My family are a bunch of liars.”

He chuckled, placing his hand on the small of her back before he started to sway. “Oh yeah?”

She nodded. “Oh yes. Especially if they tell you anything about eggs.”

Elliot laughed, making his chest shake beneath her fingers. “I heard about that too.”

Fe bit her lip, allowing herself to enjoy the sound of his voice. “What did they tell you?” she asked, resting her cheek against his linen shirt.

“Well,” he began. “There’s a bit of a discrepancy. Some believe you collected the eggs to save the baby chicks. Other’s believe you were trying to make your own version of a stink bomb.”

Fe snorted. “Who said that?” But when she glanced up to his face again, she quickly realized Elliot had met too many people tonight to even have a chance at remembering who it was. “It was neither.” She confessed. “I wanted to hatch them in a nest I’d made in the field. Only I was never had patient enough to sit there long enough.”

He smiled down at her. “You don’t say.”

She pressed her cheek into his chest again and nodded.

“Is that where your Uncle Joe found them?”

“No.” She bit her lip, wrinkling her nose at the thought of it. “When I realized my experiment wasn’t working, I took the eggs to the garden and buried the evidence.” She closed her eyes, listening to his heart beat. “It was at the end of the summer, when my uncle tilled up the soil… that’s when he found them.” Elliot’s chest started shaking, and she grinned knowing she was the cause of it.

“He didn’t know what it was right away. He thought he’d hit a gas line.”

“Oh no,” Elliot chuckled.

“Yeah.” She giggled and looked up into his face. He was relaxed, comfortable, and perfectly Elliot. Just like the old him…before anything stupid had happened between them. “Thank you for tonight,” she whispered. “They all loved you.”

He shrugged. “Who could blame them, I mean, I’m a lovable guy.”

She knew he was kidding, but she hated when he joked like that. Because he really was lovable. He was…everything. “You are.”

His face grew serious, and he ran his eyes over her face. For the first time all night, really looking at her. “Thank you.”

Her heart thudded in her chest, and she realized that she never wanted this night to end. Her body close to his, his voice soft and low… being here like this with him was like a dream. A dream she didn’t want to wake up from.

Rolling out of his arms, she took hold of his hands and began pulling him toward the gate. “Come on. I want to show you something.”

He laughed, but didn’t hesitate in following her. “Oh yeah? What?”

She grabbed a bottle of wine from the bar as they passed, feeling almost giddy with anticipation. It was the end of the night, and everything had quieted. Most people had gone home by now, and those who were still around didn’t seem to be paying any attention. She felt very much like a kid again, one who was in the mood for mischief.

They ran down the stone staircase into total darkness, taking the steps as quickly as balance would allow. She’d lived here every summer of her life and could find her way around aunt Mary’s property blindfolded if she had to.

Elliot followed after her, down the path made of old railroad ties, to the back house where aunt Marie had invited them to stay. She then went farther, until they stood under a giant oak tree with a rope swing hanging from one of its branches. She assessed the magnificent tree, pulling in her first real breath in five minutes. “I made this,” she said, her voice quiet and slightly strained. “When I was eleven.”

She set the wine on a patch of grass, taking in Elliot’s amused smile, and pulled herself up on the ropes before pushing off.

It was one of her favorite places in the world, one where she did her best dreaming. She arched her back as far as she could manage, stretching her legs out toward the sky and inhaled. This night couldn’t be more perfect. The moon was full and bright, the stars visible as far as the eye could see. She looked down to the ground where Elliot waited and found him watching her.

“What?” she shouted down to him and she swung back and forth.

He scrunched up his nose and shrugged. “I didn’t know city girls built rope swings.”

She bit her lip, amused by his southern drawl, then kicked off her shoes before jumping down to the soft dirt below. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Elliot Prescott.” She boasted. Which was a total lie. Elliot knew most everything there was to know about her.

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