8 Weeks (Time for Love 1)

He turned to me, his eyes filled with sorrow.

"They didn't raise their sons to cheat."

I felt my anger at this entire situation ease a bit in my gut. I loved Cal's folks, and they loved me, but more than anything, they loved their boys. I knew that it would be hard for him to admit to them that he wasn’t perfect, and it would be hard for them to hear, but I had to believe that they loved him unconditionally.

We pulled off and into a parking lot. Cal turned off the car, but we both just sat there.

"Babe," I said, the endearment I'd always used for him rusty on my tongue. I reached out and touched his cheek. "They'll forgive you."

Cal's eyes bore into mine.

"Will you?"

I dropped my hand and answered honestly, "I don't know."

Cal nodded, and after a moment's pause, forced a smile to his lips.

"Okay, enough of this depressing talk, it's time to get on with our date. Let's agree to leave the sadness in the car, and let the fun begin. Okay?"

"Okay," I said, returning his smile.

Cal walked around and opened my door, taking my hand to help me out of the car. I felt a familiar tug in my belly at the contact. Seeing him vulnerable was breaking down my defenses.

I followed him inside,

too preoccupied with the sensations in my body to pay attention to where we were walking. The sound of Latin music made me look up, and I felt my jaw drop.

I was staring at a dance floor with a mixture of men and women, twirling and shaking their hips as they danced to the music.

"What is this?" I pulled Cal close to me and asked in his ear.

He turned to me with a big grin.

"We're going to learn Salsa dancing."

I couldn't have been more surprised if he had said that we were going to learn how to fly on a trapeze.

I let out a snort, then giggled, before pressing my hand to my mouth to try and hold it in. When Cal stopped, I tried to look up at him innocently.

"Are you laughing at my dancing abilities?" he asked sardonically.

I guffawed at that.

"What abilities?"

Cal was a notoriously bad dancer. Women ran in flocks of panic whenever he took to the dance floor.

"I can do this," he said, his face set with determination.

I reigned in my laughter.

"Sorry, of course you can."

I followed him to the dance floor, where he walked up to a woman dressed in a revealing gown and heels. He shook her hand and smiled. He must have set this up a head of time, because the woman called a man over to us, and they both turned to us with matching thousand-watt smiles.

"Are you game?" Cal turned to me and asked.

"Absolutely," I said confidently.