Page 73 of The Wedding Wrecker

"The waltz," she said, "is elegant. Refined. It is not the place for your..." she waved her hand vaguely at Dick, "improvisation."

I tried to focus on the lesson, but Emma was precisely six inches away from me, and the scent of her perfume was making it hard to think. She'd been keeping careful distance since our talk at the taco place, and now being so close and intimate felt almost awkward.

“Where were you last night? I was worried.”

“I crashed on the couch in my parents’ room,” she said softly. “I just… needed some space to think.”

"Now," Madame Beaumont continued, "everyone find your frame. Gentleman, left hand out, right hand on your partner's back. Ladies, right hand in his, left hand on his shoulder."

Emma's hand settled hesitantly on my shoulder. She wouldn't meet my eyes as I pulled her closer, my hand spanning her lower back.

"Closer," Madame Beaumont instructed. "This is a waltz, not a middle school dance. Body contact is essential for proper leading and following."

Emma's breath hitched as I drew her against me. The line of her body pressed perfectly to mine, soft curves fitting against hard planes in a way that made me want to forget about dancing entirely.

"Better," Madame Beaumont said. "Though perhaps not quite so close, Mr. Carter. This is a waltz, not a mating dance."

Emma's cheeks flushed pink as she put a more respectable distance between us.

Across the room, Marcus and Lily were already moving smoothly through the basic steps. They made it look effortless—the kind of natural grace that came from two people completely in sync.

"Now," Madame Beaumont clapped her hands. "Music louder, please. Everyone begin with the basic box step. One, two, three... one, two, three..."

I guided Emma through the steps, and she followed perfectly. Of course she did. She probably had the exact tempo memorized, along with the precise angle each foot should move.

"You're good at this," she said quietly.

"Don't sound so surprised."

"Let me guess—you learned for a case? Following some suspicious dancer?"

"Actually, my grandmother insisted all her grandchildren learn to dance. She dragged us to classes for years. Said any man worth his salt should know how to lead a woman across a dance floor."

Emma's lips curved slightly. "Smart woman."

"She also said I'd never find a wife if I didn't learn proper table manners and stop putting frogs in my cousin Ashlyn's bed, so I'm not sure all her advice was solid."

That got a real smile. "You put frogs in your cousin's bed?"

"She deserved it. She told everyone at school I still wet the bed."

"Did you?"

"That's not the point."

Emma's laugh made my chest tight. God, I'd already missed that sound.

"Focus, people!" Madame Beaumont called. "Mr. Wellington, what did I say about dipping?"

Dick had his partner bent nearly parallel to the floor. "But she likes it! Don't you, sugar?"

Emerson looked longingly toward Theo, lips twisted in a grimace.

"Perhaps we should try something simpler," Madame Beaumont said. "Everyone, trade partners. Let's see how you do with someone new."

Before I could protest, Richard Wellington appeared at Emma's side. "May I?"

Emma hesitated, but we couldn't exactly refuse without making a scene. I watched as he swept her away, his hand settling on her back in a way that made me see red for a moment.

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