Page 4 of Found Forever

“Everyone likes dancing. Even if they’re rubbish at it. It’s fun, and it’s great exercise.”

“That’s a bold blanket statement.Everyonelikes dancing. Really?”

She lobbed a mock pout, but then cheeky determination flashed in her eyes, and she grinned as she reached for his hand. “Come on. You’ll have fun, I swear.”

Sucking in a deep breath through his nose, he rolled his eyes, finished his drink, and set it on the bar, allowing the pretty blonde to lug him onto the floor.

Just as they hit the parquet wood, the song changed to something slow.

Several people left the floor, but a few new people joined. Couples, mostly, swaying close and gazing into each other’s eyes.

Rayma—Mieka’s youngest sister and the wildest—swayed with her oldest sister, Pasha. Her head rested on Pasha’s chest, her eyes were closed and she had agoofy, drunk smile on her face. Pasha’s husband, a big blond behemoth of a man named Heath, snickered off to the side, cradling a low ball of something amber in his hand as he chatted with his brother-in-law, Rayma’s husband, Jordan.

Decker had always been good at names and faces. It was part of his job. Remembering people. Remembering threats.

“Come here, Mr. Serious,” Joanna said, pulling Decker close and guiding his right hand to her waist, left hand into her hand. “I know it’s probably not something you’re used to, because you’re one of those alpha-male types, but maybe let the professional dancer lead, hmm?”

His lip twitched again, but he nodded and allowed her to lead.

Which was all the better, because he had no idea how to dance, so he would have been shit at leading.

“You’re doing a lot of assuming about me,” he murmured as she wove them gracefully around the floor. “That I’m judging people, the alpha-male type. What other assumptions have you made?”

Her unique blue-hazel eyes glittered under all the fairy lights hung throughout the tent, and her lips twisted as she thought. “Hmmm … You’re well read.”

He didn’t say anything or make any facial expression to give away whether she was right or wrong.

She was right, though.

He read—a lot.

And he read everything.

From the classics, to the popular new releases. Kurt Vonnegut and Hemmingway to J.K. Rowling and Suzanne Collins. Even though he preferred fiction, because it allowed him to get lost in a make-believe world and live a thousand different lives, he also liked non-fiction—particularly memoirs of adventure seekers and travellers.

“Am I right?” she probed.

He lifted a shoulder. “Keep going.”

She beamed. “Okay. You’re a foodie, too.”

He was.

He loved to cook. He even took a few cooking classes a few years ago. Mostly ethic cuisine, but once when he was between missions, he made it his personal mission to perfect a soufflé, so he took a soufflé course and by the end of it, he’d made four perfect ones. Two savory and two sweet. His instructor called Decker her star pupil.

“You going to tell me if I’m right or wrong?” she asked.

“I want to see what else you’ve assumed about me first.”

She let out a faint huff of frustration, sending minty air hitting his upper lip. “You’re a vagabond. Have never really settled down. Though, full disclosure, Mieka told me this, so it’s not an assumption. It’s a fact. However, you currently have an apartment in Dallas.” Her nose wrinkled. “WhyDallas?”

He snorted. “It’s cheap, and it’s a major airport hub. I can fly anywhere real quick.”

She nodded. “But you like, don’t want to settle there, do you?”

Frowning, he shook his head. “Naw. Too right wing for me.”

She swept the back of her hand over her forehead dramatically. “Phew.”

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