Speak Low (Speak Easy 2)

“What are you doing, dancing?”

“Why not?” I skipped out of the pantry and twirled around in the kitchen on bare toes. “I just realized on Friday night how much I love dancing. I never knew it before I danced with you.”

Joey followed me out, groaning and shaking his head. “You have no idea how hard that night was for me. First of all, seeing you there, in that dress, and thinking you were there for someone else.” He set the bread crumbs on the counter. “And then when you asked to dance with me, I couldn’t resist saying yes even though I knew it would be a bad idea.”

“What are you talking about? It was a great idea!” I bounced around some more and sniffed the inside of his shirt again.

“I didn’t think so at the time. I wanted to throttle you for getting me so worked up and thinking it was all a big joke.”

“I didn’t think that at all.” Coming up behind him, I wrapped my arms around his waist and laid my head on his back.

“I didn’t know that at the time. Move for just a second, OK, baby?”

I let go of him and watched as he added more butter, sugar and cinnamon atop the bread and poured the hot water around the edges of the pan. He stuck the whole thing in the oven, closed the oven door and took me in his arms again.

“I figured you’d only asked me to make Rosie mad. But even then, I couldn’t resist the chance to get that close to you.”

I snuggled into his chest. “I’m glad you couldn’t. But I didn’t ask you only to make Rosie mad—although that was an added benefit, I’ll admit. I asked you because suddenly the thought of you leaving the club was unbearable to me.”

He kissed the top of my head. “Well, I’m glad you asked, although keeping my hands to myself during that song was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. No—I take it back. Leaving your house last night was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

Squeezing him tighter, I shivered. “I can’t believe I let you go. After you walked out the door, I cried myself to sleep.”

“You slept?”

I looked up at him and smiled. “Maybe just a little.”

He swatted my backside and I yelped in protest. “Hey!” I said, scooting backward with my hands on my butt. “You were the one out with someone else. What went on with Rosie after you left the club? And why were you out with her again last night?”

Joey’s eyes lit up. “Jealous?”

I shrugged. “Maybe a little.”

“You’ve got nothing to worry about. I took her straight home both nights, and dancing at the club was the closest I got to her.”

“It was close, all right.” I sniffed, crossing my arms in front of me. “I thought I’d have to peel her off you.”

“Well, you didn’t. And you’re here now, not her. In fact, you’re the only girl I’ve ever had here.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“But there were…other girls before me?” It was the kind of question no girl should ask, but I had to torture myself a little.

Joey shrugged. “No one like you.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means no, you’re not the first girl I’ve ever been with, but you are definitely the first girl I’ve ever loved.”

I took a deep breath. I’d assumed I wasn’t his first—and I hadn’t been a virgin before seven o’clock tonight, either—but it was still hard to hear. I didn’t want to think about his hands or lips or any other body part on any other girl. And I didn’t want to be with anyone else again either. Ever.

Suddenly Bridget’s scheme to marry Vince made perfect sense to me. Now that I knew what it was like to love someone this way, I understood the desperation they’d felt to be together. And Joey is planning to move away. We hadn’t even talked about that yet. But before I could bring it up, he took me in his arms and kissed me, slow and deep and sweet.

“I promise you,” he said, resting his forehead on mine. “I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you. I never will.”

And then my throat closed up too tightly to talk anyway.