Page 37 of Finding Home

“I wasn’t sure you’d remember me.”

“I do. You were in the Kiss Our Brass section.”

A pleased smile swept his face at the mention of their band section motto. “You know you put that in my yearbook. It reminded me What Would Eleanor Do, when I got picked on for being scrawny. Just ignore the fuckers.”

Affection curled her lips. “Todd, call me Elle. It’s what my friends call me.”

They fist bumped in band geek solidarity.

“Alright, here’s that extra case” Noah slipped behind the bar with a case of beer, his jacket now gone, and sleeves rolled to his elbows.

Elle started to move away. “I’m going to put this on the table and then go dance with Carmen. I’ll see you both later.”

“Elle, save me a dance,” Noah shouted from behind the bar.

“Hey Elle, you’re too good for Prince Charming over here. Tell him to kiss your brass,” Todd teased and slapped a wet towel against Noah’s forearm.

Noah flinched. “Dude! Really?”

“Save it for my performance review,” Todd snarked.

Oh, Todd.Shaking with laughter, Elle walked away.

As the DJ played pop hits, she let the music take over her body, shimmying her hips, tossing her arms, and hooting with laughter as she danced with Noah, Carmen, and Mathew.

Between finding her own version of the dance beat, her gaze flicked to the head table, where Clayton sat talking to Jerome’s father. She hadn’t seen Clayton after he left to carry his mother’s drinks to her table. There was still the matter of that free drink he owed her.

“Let’s slow this down.” The DJ’s deep voice came over the mic.

“Yay!” Carmen cheered, her arms wrapped around Mathew’s neck, his hands at her waist. She nuzzled into his neck at the first notes of “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran started.

Couples paired, singles shuffled off, and others held hands while walking to the dance floor. Elle started to walk back to her table when Noah stepped in her way.

“How about that dance?” A dimple punctuated his charming smile.

Elle tilted her head, peeking around Noah, to where Clayton stood in front of his table, his gaze fixed on the dance floor. The tiny paw prints tattooed on his right forearm were visible thanks to the absence of his jacket and his rolled-up sleeves.

Shifting her stare back to Noah, she grinned.“Sorry. It’s saved for someone else.”

He glanced at Clayton and then back to her. “It’s about time. Go get our guy.” He kissed her cheek and walked away.

Elle strode toward Clayton, whose grin got bigger with each step closer. He closed the distance between them. As they reached each other, she took his hand and led him onto the dance floor. Just as she had seen Carmen do with Mathew, she encircled Clayton’s nape.

Clayton rested his hands at her waist as they swayed, their gazes intertwined. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you how beautiful you always look in purple,” he whispered, pulling her closer.

Elle nestled her face against his collarbone. “I didn’t get to tell you how handsome you look in this suit.”

“I thought you were going to dance with Noah.” He swallowed hard.

“You thought wrong.”

Chin rested atop her head, his arms banded around her. It wasn’t the first time his chin had been there. It found its way there, when his strong teenaged arms caught her body as she almost fell from the bleachers at that Winter Ball so long ago. In his arms, snug under his chin, she was safe. Then and now.

“You always smell like Thanksgiving.”

“Like turkey and stuffing?” Her giggle was muffled against his chest.

“Like vanilla and pumpkin. I can’t smell it without thinking of you.” He inhaled deep.

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