Page 149 of The Fiancée Farce
“Boo.” Arms draped around Tansy’s shoulders, and the sweet scent of vanilla and vetiver and cherry-sweet bourbon filled her nose. “Be my dance partner?”
As if she would ever turn her wife down for a dance. “Always.”
Gemma whisked her off to the dance floor, promptly twirling her in a circle, making her head spin. A laugh escaped Tansy as she careened into Gemma, who steadied her, hands settling on her hips. “Having fun?”
“Mm.” It was a lovely wedding and pleasantly low-key—a refreshing departure from the other weddings she’d been to, including her own. “Are you?”
“I won’t lie.” Gemma looked over her shoulder to where Brooks and Lena were slow dancing on the far side of the deck, looking for all the world like they were the only two people on this boat. The only two people in the whole world. Gemma smiled. “I think it’s always going to be a bit bizarre. Brooks being my uncle-slash-stepfather. Feels a littleBeverly Hillbilliesto me. But the way he looks at Mom, like she’s his reason for breathing, oxygen be damned? How could I ever be upset about a thing like that? I mean, they seem happy. Don’t they?”
They looked more than happy. Brooks was looking at Lena with an expression that Tansy often saw when she caught Gemma staring at her—eyes full of awe and lips parted softly in a fond smile that Tansy now secretly thought of as hers. The whole world got to witness Gemma’s sly smiles and smirks, her sharpness, and Tansy got to see that, too, appreciate it. But no one else was privy to that particular soft smile, no one but Tansy. She had a sneaking suspicion it was the same with Brooks and Lena.
To her credit, Lena appeared just as smitten. Together, they looked the way Tansy felt—like there was a persistent, pleasant warmth in her chest, butterflies in her stomach, and as if her heart was permanently lodged in her throat, making it so that with every word she spoke to Gemma, there was love on her lips.
“They do. And Lena, wow, she looks radiant.”
“She does, doesn’t she?” Gemma smiled. “Speaking of radiant...”
Heat bloomed in her cheeks. “Stop.”
“Never.” Gemma shook her head, grinning.
“Sap,” she accused, fondly.Always, unerringly fond.
“The sappiest,” Gemma agreed, lacing her fingers together atthe small of Tansy’s back, swaying slowly to the music. “If I’m going to be something, you bet your absolutely biteable ass I’m going to be the best at it.”
There was that smile, her favorite, the one that was hers and hers alone. “Biteable, is it?”
Gemma’s smile went sly. “You need a demonstration?”
Her face flamed. “Not here.”
“Oh, yes, I’m going to lift your dress up right here, right now, in the middle of the dance floor in front of everyone.” Gemma rolled her eyes. “Later, obviously.”
Who was she to argue with a promise like that? “Later.”
“Speaking of later, youdoknow what tomorrow is, right?”
Tomorrow? It was the twenty-second. “It’s our anniversary.”
“Oursecondanniversary,” Gemma specified. “A very special anniversary.”
Tansy frowned. “Because it’s... the cotton anniversary?”
Though she could hardly see what was so special about that.
Gemma snorted. “No.Though, spoiler, I might’ve bought you a new weighted blanket because you were complaining about yours not being heavy enough. But! That’s hardly the only thing I’ve gotten you, so don’t worry.” She leaned in, pecking Tansy on the tip of the nose. “I promise you’ll still be surprised.”
“Gemma—”
“Don’t you dare say I shouldn’t have.” Gemma’s brows rose in warning. “We have a deal, remember?”
Tansy knew better than to argue with Gemma where gift-giving was concerned. “I wasgoingto ask what you meant about this anniversary being special, but now I’m thinking maybe I will give you a hard time.”
It wasn’t as if she hadn’t gotten a Gemma a gift.Madeher agift. In stolen moments when Gemma wasn’t home, Tansy had cross-stitched a portrait of her, Gemma, Mills, and Boon. Their little family.
Gemmahmmed, hands sweeping lower, past the point of respectability. Tansy’s breath caught as Gemma’s fingers curved around her hips, grabbing her ass and dragging her closer, whispering hot and heavy in her ear, “Ooh, is that my present? You give me a hard time and I get to—what?” She drew back, biting her lip. “Punish you for your impertinence?”
“We are instillin public,” she whispered, the heat in her face slithering lower, pooling beneath her belly button.
