Page 56 of A Home Among the Snow Gums
‘When a slow song comes on.’
She pursed her lips. ‘For a guy who’s apparently not interested in anything but friend stuff, you’re acting weirdly romantic.’
He pulled his hand from where it had been touching her back as they eased their way between people. ‘What makes you think I’m not romantic?’
‘Um. You’re an officer in the Navy.’
‘Retired.’
‘You come from a long line of ruthless horsemen.’
‘That’s a long line of one. Bruno bought his first horse with pocket money he earned selling eggs, and he’d be happy to tell you it was the making of him.’
‘Whatever.’
‘Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.’
‘Maybe,’ she said. That champagne punch had restored some of her bravado. The band struck up something schmoozy and deep, and she held out her arms. ‘Is this slow enough for you?’
‘Yeah. Yeah, it is.’ He tugged on her hand so she slid in against him, the velvet of her borrowed dress sliding against the dark cloth of his suit. He held her close for a couple of beats while they circled the floor, then spun her out and back in a slow reverse turn.
‘Tom Krauss can dance?’ Hannah laughed. Okay, yes, her baby plan had taken a hit, but here she was, out in the world, happy.
The unexpected part of it all was that she’d made it here with Tom. Who currently had his hands on her, on a dance floor, making the world around all blurry and indistinct and unnecessary.
He pulled her back to him so her cheek was resting against his shirt collar. ‘Stop talking,’ he murmured.
She looked up and found his eyes were closed, a faint smile on his lips. He looked … softer. Like he was recording a memory that he’d like to keep. That treacherous thrum beneath her breastbone started up and she almost trod on his foot.
Maybe this plan of hers had been more dangerous than she’d realised; she’d wanted a baby and she’d chosen Tom as a necessary ingredient, but she hadn’t wanted that experience to be complicated by feelings. Hers or his.
So … how to explain this thrum?
She shot another look up at his face and now he was staring down at her, his blue eyes dark as though storms gathered there.
‘Hannah,’ he said. ‘We need to tal—’
A figure planted itself in their path and they stopped dancing. A man stood by them, and not just any man, but Charlie Homer, her boyfriend from university. From before the viral photo.
‘Hannah. Excuse me. I saw you from across the room and I wondered if I could have a word.’
She looked up at Tom. ‘See you in a minute?’ She’d be all right with Charlie.
Tom nodded and headed for the dessert buffet while Charlie took her arm.
‘You look wonderful, Hannah,’ he said.
‘Thanks. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you.’
‘Yeah.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Listen, can we step outside? I have something to say, and it’s a little loud in here.’
She bit her lip. ‘I don’t know, Charlie. Is this really necessary?’
‘Please.’
She sighed. ‘Sure. The cellar bar might still be open, let’s go there.’
They found a corner table and Charlie slid into a seat opposite her. ‘Tell me, Hannah. How are you? You know. After everything.’
