Page 78 of Seas the Dating Coach

Vivian arrives beside us, her smile just this side of wicked. “For someone who loves books, that’s quite a compliment in itself.”

I almost swallow my tongue. There isnothingsexier than a confident Vivian. When my feet move forward unconsciously, Brynn clears her throat.

“Why don’t you both stand on the stairs for pictures?”

The tension in my body loosens as Vivian goofily insists we do classic prom photos after her sister takes a few nice ones. By the time we’re done, everyone is cracking up. I help Vivian step out of the door before Brynn catches my arm. Vivian gives her sister a small grin, lifting her skirts and walking away to give us some privacy.

“I wanted to apologize for how we got on in the beginning. I can see now that I was wrong about you.”

Years of practice at schooling my facial expression comes to my advantage as I nod instead of displaying my shock. Hadn’t Noah said that Brynn never apologizes?

“Thank you.”

She slides her shoulders back with a nod of her own. “Have fun tonight.”

When we arrive, the library is like I’ve never seen it, and I’d left it largely decorated only an hour ago to get dressed. With all the finishing touches, like the battery-operated candles atop nearly every surface, the high school chamber orchestra setting up as the DJ plays classical covers of popular songs, and the rest of the town in Regency finery, it’s a perfect culmination of weeks of diligent work.

“This is incredible,” Vivian breathes as we enter the central area after picking up her dance card.

“Thank you. I want to give the other librarians congratulations. Do you mind?”

“Not at all.” She wraps her gloved fingers around my arm, encouraging me to lead the way.

“Vivian, hi!” We’re waylaid by Cade, the town masseuse, and her boyfriend, William, who’s a doctor I think? I’ve actually never seen him in person before. “I wanted to say thank you again for the custom dress.” Cade pulls out the skirts of her bubble-gum pink dress that matches the color of her bob hairstyle.

“I thought you didn’t have time for custom dresses?” I ask.

“It’s not technically custom. I just dyed it for her.” Vivian grins. “It looks great, especially with the purple accents.”

“Thank you.” Cade fluffs the oversized purple ostrich feathers in her hair and tugs at her purple wrist gloves.

I offer my hand to William, formally introducing myself while Cade stage-whispers with an eyebrow bounce, “Carpe diem? More like carpe date-him.”

It takes us a few moments to make the rounds, finally thanking and chatting with my staff at the refreshment table loaded with tiny, personal-sized treats and plastic wine glasses filled with lemonade. Once the orchestra completes its final tuning, the DJ cuts the music. I set down my glass and extend my palm to Vivian with a slight bow.

“I believe I have this dance.”

I wanted to write my name in all the slots on her dance card but knew that Regency romance-loving Vivian would understand the significance of claiming her first waltz.

Vivian accepts my hand with a teasing grin. “So you do. I trust you will prove a most accomplished partner.”

I lean close, dropping the formal speech as my lips brush the shell of her ear. “You have no idea, gorgeous.”

Pleased with the scarlet staining her cheeks, I lead Vivian to the dance floor as many of the couples we’ve seen at Margot’s lessons join us. As the lilting music surrounds us and we gracefully glide into the first steps of the dance, I’m confident that the rest of the night will go just as smoothly.

thirty-four

Vivian

Ishould be used to the blissful sensation of dancing in Finn’s arms since we practiced with the rest of the town and then on our own under the stars on his deck. Of course, that last session ended up being more kissing than dancing, but…something feels different tonight.

Revelatory.

It takes me two turns of the floor before I realize that I can’t hold my feelings in anymore. I’ve had so many near misses these past two weeks, but with Finn smirking at me as we glide around the room, his black hair loose and playful over his forehead, I can’tnot tellhimI love him.

“I want to tell you something,” I begin.

His flirty expression falls, sincerity replacing it. “I do too.”

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