Page 84 of Proof Of Life
“I wish,” he says, placing his hand on my knee under the table. “But not yet. Come on, let’s dance.” My face is doing that thing again, the what-the-fuck expression, and Brandt laughs. “Dance with me,” he insists.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“I’m not,” he laughs.
“Dance? On my one good leg?” Hell, I couldn’t even dance when I had two good legs.
“You can hop around,” he teases with a twist to his lips.
“You’re an ass.” With Brandt standing there holding his hand out to me, people are beginning to stare, including the big brass.
“Fuck it. Dancing beats sitting here, like a fucking puppet.”
The song playing is sweet and emotional, The Wind Beneath My Wings by Bette Midler. Many couples are dancing, but none of them are two men. With one hand on my hip, he slides the other around my shoulder, keeping his body at a respectable four inch distance.
“Everybody is staring at us.”
“Of course they are.” A wicked smirk tugs at his lips. “The colonel is looking.”
His smirk is contagious. “Does he look pissed?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Perfect. His guests of honor look super gay right now, and it’s not a good look for him.”
I slide my hand around Brandt’s waist, pulling him closer, close enough to smell his musky cologne. It's a powerful scent that makes me want to lick his skin. Colonel Baskin shoots me a nasty glare, with narrowed eyes and his lips stretched thin, and I lay my head on Brandt’s shoulder. Baskin starts toward us, and I can feel Brandt’s body tense.
“Fuck, here we go. Can we get out of here now?”
“Yeah, perfect timing,” he agrees, guiding me off the dance floor with his hand on the small of my back.
We’re waylaid by Brandt’s parents, who want to gather us together for more pictures. We can’t tell them we’re leaving because I’m pretty sure his mother will block the door with her body, so instead we just lie and say we’re going to the bathroom to wash up.
I recognize Tommy’s wife, and there’s no way I can walk by her without stopping to say something. What I don’t recognize is the infant in her arms. Tommy never mentioned his wife was pregnant. In fact, the last thing he said was that they were hoping to start a family when he came home.
I don’t have it in me to hug her because if that’s Tommy’s baby, I can’t get near her without losing my shit and crying, and if it’s not Tommy’s baby, I’ll definitely lose my shit. Either way, I’m not okay. So I stand at attention and salute her.
“Cut that out,” she admonishes, reaching in to hug me. “Don’t you dare salute me.”
“Congratulations,” Brandt offers, looking at the tiny boy.
Angela rubs the baby’s head. “I told him the day before he died, but he didn’t want to say anything because he thought it would jinx the first trimester.” She can barely spit the word trimester out before she’s in tears.
Thank God for Brandt, who hugs her as she sobs quietly into his shoulder. I just… I can’t. It’s just further proof how fucked up fate is. This man had a family. He had something worth living for, just like Micah did. It’s not fair these families are broken and these people have to carry on without them. It’s not fair this baby will never know who his father was or what an amazing guy he was.
Brandt takes down her number, promising to keep in touch. No doubt he’ll send a baby gift from the both of us. Knowing him like I do, I have no doubt that he’s going to try to convince me to set up a college fund for Micah and Tommy’s kids. He won’t have to twist my arm very hard. I can’t think of anything better to do with my money than to give it to them.
Angela is sidetracked by another well-wisher and Brandt tugs me away to make our great escape, except we’re thwarted by another nail in my coffin. A tall, dark-haired man, dressed in a charcoal gray suit. He stops us like he knows who we are.
“Hi, I just had to introduce myself. I’m Jonathan Wilby.”
He says it like we’re supposed to know what that name means, but I glance at Brandt and he looks as clueless as I am.
“Brandt Aguilar,” he says, shaking the man’s hand.
“Weston Wardell,” I say, introducing myself with a handshake.
“I know exactly who you guys are. Annie told me so much about you. Her team leader, the Professor. And I think she called you the Grim Reaper?” he asks Brandt.