Page 83 of Charmed, I'm Sure
Most of the guests had already gone, but laughter still spilled from the living room, where a few stragglers mingled. Taylor’s hand stayed firmly on my lower back, grounding me as he led me past the noise and out into the crisp night air.
The backyard looked like something out of a holiday movie. Twinkling Christmas lights draped across the trees, casting a soft glow over the empty dance floor set up in the middle of the expansive yard.
“Do you think anyone even used the dance floor?” I asked, leaning against the deck railing.
Taylor stepped behind me, his warmth seeping into my back as he wrapped his arms around my waist. I felt his shrug more than I saw it.
“Someone’s about to.”
“What?” I turned, only to find him holding out his hand, an invitation in his eyes.
“Dance with me, cher.”
“But your family—”
“Is either preoccupied or drunk off their asses.” His voice was low, his expression soft. “It’s just you and me out here. Dance with me. Please?”
“But there’s no music,” I protested weakly, grasping for an excuse.
Taylor quirked a brow, pulling his phone from his pocket. Moments later, Norah Jones’Come Away With Meflowed into the stillness.
“Have you run out of excuses yet?” he asked, his lips curving into a teasing smile.
“I’m sure I could come up with a few more,” I mused, sliding my hand into his.
“But?”
“But I don’t want to.”
His grin widened, and my knees nearly gave out. This—these small, unspoken gestures—was what I needed. Not grand declarations or sweeping gestures, but the little things. The slow dances, the stolen moments, the quiet intimacy of just being.
As Taylor pulled me into his arms and swayed to the music, careful of my bandaged hand, a feeling I hadn’t allowed myself to embrace in a long time unfurled in my chest. His touch was steady, his presence grounding, and the world melted away as the song wrapped around us.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked when the track shifted into another melody.
I hadn’t been thinking much, to be honest—just losing myself in the feeling of being held by him. But his question brought the outside world rushing back in.
“Were you going to invite me to be your date tonight?”
“What?”
“For this. The engagement party.”
His sheepish expression told me everything I needed to know before he spoke.
“Taylor…”
He blew out a heavy breath. “No. I thought it might be too soon to meet my family when we haven’t even been on a public date yet.”
“So why did you ask me out tonight?” I demanded, my voice rising.
Taylor grimaced. “I thought… I don’t know. I just wanted to spend time with you. Alone.”
“Taylor Hallows, tell me you were not planning to ditch your sister’s engagement party.”
“Okay, I won’t tell you,” he muttered.
“Taylor!” I tried to pull away, but he tightened his hold on me, and—sweet baby cheeses—either he’d stashed a salami in his pocket, or…
