Until Now

“It’s not nec—”

“Last call for all the single ladies to the dance floor,” the DJ said. “Don’t be shy.”

“You heard him.” Callie got up from her chair and approached Tamara.

“What are you doing?” Tamara protested as Callie reached for her hand.

“Just get up. Come on. This is the fun part.”

With Callie physically taking her hand, Tamara sighed and stood. Those around her cheered as she made her way to the dance floor.

As if she wanted to catch the bouquet after Marshall had caught the garter.

Fine. I can stand here, but I don’t have to be the one to catch the cursed thing. While some of the teenagers around her looked supereager, Tamara resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

Then the music began, and as Eric had done, Deanna teased the teen girls and adult women by pretending she was about to release the bouquet. And then she did.

And it sailed in the air straight toward Tamara.

Reflexively—so the bouquet didn’t hit her in the face—Tamara caught it. And then people began to cheer, and she realized what she had done.

But the realization truly hit her when she looked to the edge of the dance floor and saw Marshall standing there, grinning at her as if he had just won the lottery.

“Give them a round of applause, ladies and gentlemen,” the DJ said with enthusiasm. People clapped. “And welcome the couple to the dance floor to share a dance!”

The guests cheered and whistled their encouragement for Tamara and Marshall to dance. And then Marshall began to approach her.

Tamara’s stomach sank. Good Lord, would she never escape the man?

“So we meet again,” Marshall said as he stopped before her. “How fitting.”

Tamara swallowed. What she wanted to do was flee. But with all of the wedding guests watching with smiles on their faces, that was the last thing she could do.

The DJ began to play Eric Benét’s “I Wanna Be Loved,” and there was nothing Tamara could do but accept her fate when Marshall slipped his hands around her waist and pulled her close.

Her stomach fluttered, and her body tensed.

“That’s right,” the DJ said, urging them on, “get to know each other.”

All eyes were on them as if the guests believed that Cleveland’s newest couple had just been crowned.

“Smile,” Marshall told her. “People are going to start wondering what’s wrong.”

Tamara inhaled a shaky breath and then tried her best to force a smile. She had enjoyed the dancing when it had been on her terms, but now it was as if fate was laughing at her.

“You’re as stiff as a board,” Marshall whispered. “What happened to the woman I was dancing with earlier tonight?”

That woman had been playing a game, or so she’d thought.

“I’m not exactly comfortable with public attention,” Tamara said by way of explanation.

“It’s just a dance. Not a date with the executioner.”

Tamara wished that his voice wasn’t so deep and sultry. And that he wouldn’t whisper into her ear the way he did, as if they had developed some sort of comfort level already.

She tried to ease back as far as possible without looking uncomfortable, and when the song came to an end, she was relieved. It was clear to her that she’d lit Marshall’s fire, so to speak, and that he was interested.

“Excuse me,” she said and stepped away from him.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“I need a drink,” she told him. She felt as if her whole body was burning up.

“I’ll join you.”

Tamara headed toward the punch table. She had abstained from the cocktail when she’d arrived at the reception, but with Marshall on her heels, she poured a full cup and gulped it down.

She saw Marshall looking at her with humor in his eyes as he slowly poured a cup and sipped the beverage. Humor and determination.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Tamara put her empty cup on the edge of the table and plastered a smile on her face. “Nature calls.”

“Excellent,” Marshall said. He started for the doors with her. “We’ll go together.”

Tamara’s eyes widened in horror. “What?”

Marshall placed a hand on her upper back and kept walking with her.

“W-what are you doing?” Tamara asked, looking over her shoulder at him in disbelief.

“Not what you think I’m doing.” With one hand, Marshall pushed open one of the double doors, and with the other, he whisked her out of the ballroom. “I just want to talk.”

Tamara expelled a frustrated breath. “You’re following me because you want to talk?”

“You’re having fun with this, aren’t you?” Marshall countered, coming to a stop several feet away from the reception-hall doors.

“Because I have to go to the bathroom?”

“You dance with me, leave me thinking you’re interested, and now you seem as though you can’t get away from me fast enough.”

Tamara stared up at him...and her vision momentarily blurred. She felt a little odd. A bit dizzy. But she forged ahead. “I need to go to the bathroom, and you take that as rejection?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” Marshall countered, his full lips twisting. “I just want to know—what happened to the woman on the dance floor earlier? The one who made it clear she wanted me to chase her?”

Tamara guffawed. “Chase me?”

“I bet you’re planning to leave here and not give me a way to reach you. And tonight in your bed, you’ll have a laugh at my expense, right?”

“You know you sound crazy.”