Page 94 of Sweet Madness
“Ella…” I say in a husky tone, feeling way too much at a time.
Ella squeezes my hand gently and nudges me with a playful grin. “I’m having the best time, Shaw.”
“Good. That’s good.” I look down at her while she looks around like a kid at his first rodeo.
Ella’s eyes light up as she catches sight of couples twirling and two-stepping on a wooden dance floor. She gently tugs at my arm. “Shaw, look! Let’s go dance!” Her voice bubbles with excitement, as she bounces on the balls of her boots, already swaying to the music.
Ahhhh…
I glance at the dance floor with reluctance and disdain. I hesitated, my cowboy hat pulled low over my brow, hiding a smile. I wasn’t much of a dancer, and being the center of attention wasn’t my style. But then I glance at Ella, her cheeks flushing with joy, eyes sparkling with the idea of sharing a dance. I hate dancing and I hate spending time with other people yet her happiness at the moment was infectious. I can’t resist her. “You wanna dance, cupcake?”
“I really do, Shaw.”
“Let’s dance then,” I concede with a small grin, “but just this once.”
“How about two?” She tilts her face, her black curls being blown on the wind and a teasing smile.
I narrow my eyes and it only makes her smile grow bigger.
“Fine,” I grumble.
“Yes!” Ella laughs and pulls me toward the dance floor, weaving through the crowd with an ease that hinted at her familiarity with country dances. We find a spot among the swirling pairs, and I tentatively take her hand as we fall into the rhythm of the music.
“Show me how it’s done cowboy.”
And so I did.
Ella’s laughter rings out as she spins under my arm, her movements graceful and free. Her voice join the chorus of the band, singing along to the familiar tune with unabashed glee. I watch her, a softness in my eyes that betrays the tough exterior I usually wore.
But not with her.
Not with my girl. At least not anymore.
I made her mine yesterday and there’s not going back. One taste of Ellaiza Kenton is not enough. It will never be enough.
As we dance under the twinkling lights, Ella sings aloud to a song I’ve caught her listening to back home many times. A song about a girl asking Romeo to take her someone they could be alone. She sings and dances as if there is no one around us.
And there isn’t. She is the only thing I see.
I don’t sing along or laugh out loud like Ella did, but there is a quiet contentment in my expression. I feel a happiness that I hadn’t felt in years. I feel like maybe life wasn’t all that bad because how could it be when someone as lovely and magical as her exists?
I move with her, my steps steady and sure, my hand warm in hers.
When the song draws to a close, Ella twirls one last time before coming to a breathless stop in my arms. She looks up at me, cheeks flush and eyes shining.
“Thank you, Shaw,” she says, her voice filled with genuine gratitude. “This feels like pink.”
“Pink?” I ask, confused.
“Yeah,” she whispers as she looked up at me still in my arms. “Pink is happiness and here with you is the happiest I’ve ever been.”
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
My chest aches as her words infiltrate my soul and sprinkle my existence with her perfect and joyful essence.