Page 53 of Her Braun
Gibson leaned closer to ask her what she wanted him to say but-
“Kay.”
She'd said it herself.
Taylor and Emily were beaming at them.
“Welcome, Kay.”
Emily gestured for them to come forward and Kay, who still had a hold on his hand, turned and started to walk with him onto the dance floor.
Gibson walked with her until they were just a few feet in front of the dais where the band was. It wasn’t until Taylor dropped his gaze lower and blinked in shock that Gibson remembered that he’d just had a serious hard-on a minute before and given his friend’s pale complexion, he still had something going on down there.
He could tell by the color in Emily’s cheeks that she’d noticed it too, she just wasn’t making a big show of it.
“I’ve already asked the band to play a special song for our old friend and his Kay. So, if you’ll let them take the lead on this dance, we’d be really grateful. Thanks again.”
Before he could try to make some excuse for his friends, the band started playing and he didn’t want to make excuses anymore.
He just wanted to hold Kay close, because he had no idea if this night was just some kind of serendipity. Or maybe this might be the start of something new.
So he’d just have to take what he could get and worry about the rest later.
The song was actually one he knew.
One that Taylor and Emily both knew from the last time he’d gotten drunk around them.
It was the song that he’d confessed after too many drinks that he’d think it was a sign if it was the first song that was played when he danced with a woman.
Yellow, by Coldplay.
Gibson turned to her, and she stepped into his arms as the lyrics started and heaven help him.
It was damn serendipity even with the nudge of help from his friends, because holding Kay in his embrace was everything.
TEN
… look at the stars…
The words from the song were like a whisper in the back of her thoughts, but they didn’t have a hope of being anything else.
Dancing with Gibson was amazing.
She’d rarely danced with a partner. Men either didn’t want to dance or didn’t know how, and the opportunities that she’d had to step onto a dance floor with a man had been few and far between. Especially one where they were dancing in each other's arms instead of feet apart.
But Gibson didn’t seem to have a problem with the idea, nor did he lack the skill.
His hand had curved around her hip as if he was used to finding just the right spot on her body, and the hand that took hers was as gentle as it was steady.
Maybe, she wondered on a soft, soundless sigh, that was just the kind of man he was.
Gentle and steady.
She’d dreamed of men like him.
Humorous. Handsome.
And when he started to move them around the dance floor, she didn’t have a single worry about him stepping on her toes.
