Page 85 of Laced With Secrets
His attention shifted to my visible belly, and something painful crossed his face. “Don’t take a single moment for granted.”
“We won’t,” I promised.
Richard excused himself, clearly emotionally exhausted. I watched him disappear into the crowd, feeling the weight of grief and regret following in his wake.
“That man needs therapy,” Dominic observed.
“That man needs a time machine,” I corrected. “But therapy’s probably more realistic.”
The music shifted suddenly—the opening notes of “How Deep Is Your Love” by the Bee Gees filling the ballroom. The upbeat disco energy mellowed into something slower, more romantic. Around us, couples moved toward the dance floor, drawn by the song’s gentle invitation.
Dominic’s hand found mine before I could even process the change. His fingers intertwined with mine, warm and sure, and when he tugged me gently toward the dance floor, I followed without hesitation.
“Dance with me,” he said, his voice dropping to that intimate tone that was only for me.
On the dance floor, surrounded by soft light fractured through the disco ball, Dominic pulled me close. One hand settled on my lower back, warm through the velvet of my jacket, while the other cradled my hand against his chest—directly over his heart where I could feel the steady, strong beat beneath my palm. Wemoved together in perfect synchronization, as if we instinctively anticipated each other’s movements.
Dominic’s black shirt with its subtle metallic threading glinted like stars as he moved, and I found myself mesmerized by the play of light and shadow across his features. His silver eyes never left mine, focused with an intensity that made my breath catch.
“You’re staring,” I murmured.
“I’m admiring,” he said, his head canting slightly as his hand on my back pulled me incrementally closer. The small bump of my belly pressed against him, our child held safe between us. “You’re glowing.”
“It’s the disco ball,” I said, attempting to hold back my smile.
We didn’t speak again as the song played. We didn’t need to. Everything worth saying passed between us through touch and scent and the bond that tied us together more surely than any words ever could.
When the final notes faded and the tempo shifted, we remained still for one extra heartbeat, reluctant to break the moment. Then Dominic pressed a kiss to my forehead—lingering, reverent—and guided me off the dance floor toward the sidelines.
“Stay here,” he commanded gently as I settled into a metal chair with a thin cushion. “I’ll get you some punch. You need to hydrate.”
“I’m pregnant, not fragile,” I protested, but I gave him an indulgent smile.
“Humor me,” he said, already moving toward the refreshment table with that fluid, purposeful grace that never failed to make my stomach flip.
I watched him go, admiring the way his slacks fit, the breadth of his shoulders under the black shirt, the confident way he moved through the crowd. Several women and male omegas turned to watch him pass, and I felt a surge of possessive pride.
Mine.Myalpha. My mate.
The music shifted again. This time, “Boogie Shoes” by KC and the Sunshine Band exploded through the speakers with infectious energy. The dance floor transformed instantly, couples separating as the upbeat disco rhythm demanded more space, more movement, more abandon.
And there, near the center of it all, I spotted Penny.
He wore a silk shirt in brilliant azure blue that caught the disco ball’s light like water, the fabric flowing with his movements. The shirt was open at the collar, sleeves rolled to his elbows, fitted enough to show off his slender frame. Paired with high-waisted white pants and platform shoes, he looked gorgeous and confident and utterly in his element.
Sebastian danced beside him. He wore all black—fitted slacks, a silk shirt with subtle patterns that revealed themselves only when light hit at the right angle, a thin gold chain at his throat. His amber eyes were bright with laughter as he moved with Penny, their bodies responding to the music and to each other.
They looked good together—really good. The kind of natural synchronization that comes from genuine chemistry. I watched Sebastian spin Penny away. When they came back together, there was a moment—just a flash—where Sebastian’s handrested on my friend’s hip while Penny’s fingers trailed across Sebastian’s shoulder. Both touches lasted just a heartbeat too long to be purely friendly.
Then Sebastian, in a move that was unmistakably deliberate to my eye, spun Penny outward with enough force to send him stumbling—laughing, dizzy, arms windmilling for balance.
Straight into Victor’s arms.
Victor had been standing at the edge of the dance floor watching them—I hadn’t noticed him before. He wore cream-colored slacks and a burgundy silk shirt. Bold choice for his ice-blond coloring, but it worked.
Penny stumbled directly into Victor’s chest. Victor caught him automatically, hands steadying Penny’s waist, and for one moment they both went perfectly still—Penny looking up at Victor with surprised laughter, Victor looking down with an expression I couldn’t quite read from this distance.
Then Penny’s smile shifted into something playful and inviting. He grabbed Victor’s hand without hesitation and pulled the alpha onto the dance floor.