Sort of like heartbreak. I don’t know what gives me the thought, but I hope it’s not an omen for what’s to come.
The driver takes us to an elegant estate just past the limits of Nashville. The home is large and stately, an absolute beauty. It rivals the size of the McCallister Manor. Is it crazy to admit that I never knew such vast wealth existed in the world? I mean, obviously I know there are rich people but not this level of it.
Teddy waits for the driver to open his door, which is weird as hell—but I know it’s what’s proper. He slides smoothly out of the vehicle, straightening his tux before extending a hand back inside the vehicle for me. I slip my hand into his rough palm, allowing his fingers to close over the top of my hand.
Heart-pounding, my high-heeled feet make contact with the driveway made of some exotic material I’ve never seen before. It looks as if there are tiny seashells in it.
Gathering my breath, I smile at my date. His eyes flash with amusement.
“Nervous?”
“What gave me away?”
“You keep looking at your feet for starters,” he chuckles, squeezing my hand affectionately.
A blush blooms on my cheeks. “Sorry,” I mumble, looking around and taking in the amount of people lingering outside, ones dressed like us, as well as staff directing where we go.
“I like it when you’re flustered.”
“What exactly is all of this for?” Probably something I should’ve asked before, but I figured in these situations, the less I know beforehand, the better. It means I can’t overly stress.
“The Boudin’s,” he nods significantly at the house, “are benefactors for many charities. Tonight they’re raising money for a new pediatric cancer wing at the hospital.”
“Wow, that’s amazing.”
We’re directed to go into the house, where we’re then guided to an event space. I can’t imagine having so much money that I would need or even want a room like this in my house. But realistically this isn’t a house or a home. It’s meant for show.
The space is cold.
This isn’t a place where laughter echoes off the walls, or kids kick balls around, or you bond on Christmas morning. I could have all the money in the world and I would never want this.
I want warmth and kisses in the mornings and a home so full of love it’s practically bursting at the seams.
A server passes by us with a tray of champagne flutes. Teddy’s hand shoots out, grabbing glasses for each of us. I have to admit, I feel a little better having something to hold in my hand.
Teddy places his hand on my lower back, the heat of him searing me through the fabric of my dress.
“Our table is over here.” He tips his head to the left, guiding me along.
I recognize a few faces in the room, not because I know them personally but because I’ve seen them on magazines and in blockbuster movies.
I try not to openly gawk, not wanting to be that person.
Teddy stops at a table, already occupied by a few people including his parents.
“Teddy.” His mom beams, standing to kiss his cheeks. “And Vanessa.” She hugs me, which is a tad awkward with the champagne in one hand and her son refusing to let me go. Unfazed, she sits back down beside her husband who openly glares.
“You’re late.”
Teddy looks significantly around at the empty tables slowly filling in. “Doesn’t look like it.”
“I told you to be here thirty minutes ago.”
“Oh, Ed—” Mrs. McCallister tries to soothe her husband, but he’s not having it.
“When I tell you to be somewhere at a certain time, I expect you to be able to follow basic instruction, you insolent—”
Someone clears their throat and Mr. McCallister glances up at the looming presence of a large man that has to be over six-foot-five and built like a tank. “Is everything all right here?”
Mr. McCallister flounders, muttering a string of incoherent sentences.
The unnamed man looks to Teddy and there’s a wordless exchange. “If there are any problems come find me.”
He moves off, checking on another table.
“Who’s that?” I whisper under my breath as we finally take our seats.
“The Boudin’s son.”
“He’s … intimidating but not in a mean way, if that makes sense.”
Teddy chuckles, brushing a lock of hair over my shoulder. “I call him the gentle giant.”
“You know him well.”
“We went to the same school. He was a couple grades ahead of me, but with small classes you know everyone.”
Any other questions I might have die on my tongue when someone speaks into the microphone at the front of the room, welcoming us for the evening and going over the list of events for the night, starting with dinner, and an auction, as well as other festivities.
The first course is brought out, and I do my best to remember my manners. Teddy helps me along as I still sometimes struggle to use the correct cutlery.
By the time dinner is finished I feel like a jittery mess. Luckily, a band starts playing and people clear from their tables, some to dance, others to mingle, some I’m sure are desperate for a potty break.
Teddy’s arm is on the back of my chair, his fingers lazily stroking against me.
“Dance with me?”
“What is it with you and getting me to dance?”
“I like having you in my arms.”
“How can I say no to that?”
He stands, taking my hand and tugging me up easily with him. His dad’s shrewd gaze follows us all the way to where the gathered crowd is dancing, the burn of his stare not disappearing until we’re lost in the crowd.
“Why do you like to dance so much?” Wrapping my arms around his neck, my fingers curl into his hair tugging lightly at the strands. He smirks, his jaw shadowed with stubble. I love the way he’s never perfectly shaven. Slightly unkempt, perfectly Teddy.
“Because dancing doesn’t need words. It’s all about the feel, rhythm. It’s like this secret language.”
“Unfortunately for you, I suck at it.”
“No one sucks at dancing. You just need the right partner.” He winces, watching someone over my shoulder. “Okay, maybe that guy is really bad at it.”
He spins me so I can see the man in question. A laugh bursts from me, because the guy is comically bad.
Teddy laughs with me, twirling me in another direction before we draw attention to ourselves or the unfortunate soul that makes me look like a professional dancer.
I don’t know how long we linger on the dance floor, but a sheen of sweat sticks to my skin when Teddy finally drags me to the drink bar getting us both much-needed water.
After hydrating there’s more dancing, until everyone’s called to take our seats for the auction.
In the chaos of everyone trying to find their seats again, Teddy sneaks us out of the room.
I’m aware I’m a smiley happy mess as I gaze up at him, but I don’t care. I never realized how good it would feel to not care and just exist.
“Where are we going?” I giggle. I’m not even tipsy, only drunk on the intoxicating feeling of falling, hard and fast, for the man at my side.
“There’s a garden,” he murmurs, tugging me along down the massively wide hall. He clearly knows where he’s going. His head dips, looking back at me where I hurry to keep up with his long strides in my pointy heels. His eyes are heated, glowing with a promise that sends a shiver racing down my spine. “And I need you.”