Page 81 of Hope After Loss

I wipe my mouth with my napkin, take a sip from my glass, and then take his hand.

He leads me to the makeshift space, where several couples are swaying to the music.

The band is playing a country love song, and Weston twirls me around before pulling me in close.

“Not very well, my ass,” I mutter as I lay my head against his chest.

I can’t remember the last time I was on a dance floor. I used to dance around the kitchen all the time, but I honestly can’t recall turning on the radio in forever.

I close my eyes and let Weston moves us around to the music. His scent envelops me as I soak in the warmth from his body so close to mine.

A feeling of peace slides through me. Like nothing could touch me as long as I am wrapped in his arms.

For those few moments, I let down my walls, my insecurities, and my fears, and I just hold on to him and breathe.

Then, the music ends.

I don’t open my eyes. I don’t step away.

And neither does he.

The band starts to play an up-tempo intro, but they must notice us still swaying in the dark because they quickly move to another slow song.

And we dance until the band packs up and the lights come on.

Smokey yells to the crowd, “Closing time. You don’t have to go home, but you gotta leave here.”

I stand by the door while Weston pays our bill. Ginny comes out from the kitchen and comes to introduce herself.

“Please come back,” she says as she squeezes my hands.

“I will. I promise. This place is magical.”

She grins. “I don’t know about magical, but we’re all family here, and anyone Weston Tuttle is willing to share this place with has to be special.”

I look over as he, Smokey, and another man burst into laughter:

“I think he’s the special one,” I mutter.

“He is, and the best part is, he doesn’t even know it,” she whispers.

I look at her in surprise. “Weston? Trust me, he knows.”

She shakes her head. “False bravado. He’s all noise. Had to be, growing up. He was the youngest of five for a long time. He had to be loud and rambunctious to get attention, but he was the sensitive one. The one with the biggest heart. The one who would chew off his own arm to help another person. The one who cares about the land and the people the most. I love all those boys, but that one, yeah, he’s got a special place in my heart for sure.”

Weston finishes his conversation and hurries to us.

He throws his arms around Ginny and picks her up off the ground and spins her.

“Good night, Ginny. You make Smokey behave.”

“Don’t I always?” she says as he sets her down.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You kids enjoy the rest of your night and drive safely,” she commands.

Weston opens the door, places a hand on my lower back, and leads me to the truck.