Page 28 of Faking it for Gran's Sake

My thumb brushes the back of her hand. “I wish I had as well. I could be your bodyguard. Should you be going on dates with strange men?”

She slips her hand out of my hold and tucks loose hair behind her ear. “Men from outer space. Yeah. Next time, I’ll invite you.”

I tsk. “Lauren, there will be no more dates with other men. We’re getting married, remember.”

She rolls her eyes. “Sure. Fake wedding, remember? Where I spend your money for Gran’s sake.”

Not if I can help it. I don’t have much time to convince her we should tie the knot for real. Once the pretend wedding is over, we won’t need to see much of each other. Lauren can visit Gran by herself. And I’ll go back to being a bachelor. That doesn’t sound very appealing anymore. Not one bit.

***

PAGE CIRCLES AROUND Lauren and me. “Shuffle closer a few more inches.” The tip of Page’s shoe nudges the back of my heel.

She peers over her blue-rimmed glasses and flicks her head upward. “Chin up, as I told you.” The woman is all high school teacher. Firm tones and no messing around. She places my palm on Lauren’s waist, grabs our joined hands, and pushes our elbows higher.

“Perfect.” Page walks backward and turns to the blue tooth speaker in the far corner. “Siri, play a classical waltz.” A blend of a clarinet, strings, and the trumpet play in the background.

I smile at Lauren. She glances away. Why is she acting shy? This was her idea. Well, the lessons were. I might not have the chance to dance with Lauren and hold her in my arms again. I’m going to enjoy every moment.

“Well, then. Dance.” Page calls out as her click-clacking shoes approach. Maybe it won’t get too romantic with Page breathing down our necks, barking out commands like a drill sergeant.

I step backward and lead Lauren, making the box-step shape as Page taught us. One lesson should do, and we’re twenty minutes into it already.

Lauren looks at me now, and I stop breathing for a moment. She seems to be searching for something. Or is it because the dance requires her to look at me?

My thumb runs small circles on her back, and Lauren closes her eyes for a beat. I love this woman. I need a way back into her life.

I swirl her around, and we have a good rhythm—back and forth and to the side we go.

“Good, good.” Page stands beside us with arms crossed, and she points. “Okay, Mason, lead your partner around the room.”

I tuck Lauren toward me as I step back with a little more gusto than I should. She stumbles and head-butts my chin. I drop her arm and groan. She’s rubbing her forehead.

I do the same to my chin. “Sorry, are you all right?”

“Nothing a little makeup won’t cover.” She winces as she touches her forehead.

“Oh, you guys were doing so well. Mason, you brute.” Page tsks. “Take it easy next time. Treat her like a delicate butterfly. Don’t break her wings. Or head butt her antennas.”

“Yeah, you big slug,” says Lauren. “I’m a delicate butterfly.” She flaps her imaginary wings and flutters around me. She’s all things beautiful, and she sets my heart to flight.

We continue to dance and move into a rhythm. Page nods, seeming happier with our progress.

“You’re both doing great. Keep going until the song finishes. I’m going to go to the restroom. Be right back.” The click-clack of her heels echoes as she exits the gymnasium.

I smile at Lauren and dare to pull her closer.

“You’re enjoying yourself way too much, buddy.” She smirks.

“Is it a crime to enjoy holding one’s fiancée?”

“Ha.” She tosses her head back. “Fake fiancée.”

“A man can dream.” I move my hand against her back, pressing her closer.

“Dream about your grandma. That might help.”

I scowl. “I was daydreaming about our wedding night. Now you’ve gone and screwed it up.”

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