Page 16 of Marrying the Guide
The sun showed her glorious evening colors, painting the sky in bright orange and yellow. I laced up my dance shoes, which had been gathering dust in the back of my closet for more years than I cared to admit. The last time I wore them might’ve been at my wedding. Fuck, I was getting old.
But no, none of that now. Not when anticipation buzzed through my veins. All day, I’d been looking forward to tonight’s date. Even when leading a zipline excursion, I’d barely been able to keep my focus. My thoughts had drifted to Onno and how much fun we’d had two days before.
I’d wanted to hang out with him yesterday, but I’d been called in for a search and rescue. A female solo hiker hadn’t made it back at the agreed-upon time, and her family had called in help. Luckily, she’d worn a GPS tracker, which made finding her easy. Though it had required a two-hour climb because she’d been halfway up King Mountain. She’d slipped and hit her head and was still dizzy and confused from a concussion when we found her. We’d made it back safely, but by then, it had been too late to meet up with Onno.
Finding something else to do that was original and fun had been a challenge on such short notice, but I’d pulled it off—with a little help from Bubbles, who’d sent a list of suggestions. I wanted to offer Onno the chance to try new things, but with me instead of alone. Tonight, we’d learn to waltz. I’d double-checked with Onno to ensure he was up for it, but he’d assured me his feet had recovered enough to swirl on the dance floor.
Once again, he was waiting for me outside the bakery, dressed in dark blue slacks and a crisp pink polo shirt. God, he was so gorgeous. He slid into my truck with much more ease and grace, then leaned in for a kiss, which I happily gave. I kept it brief, though. I didn’t want to give Brianna and her husband a show, but that was fine. If the night went according to plan, we’d have more time for longer kisses later. And maybe more.
“You look nice,” he said. His blond hair caught the last rays of light that streamed through the window, giving him an otherworldly aura.
“Thank you. The shoes feel weird, I gotta say. Haven’t worn them in a long time.”
“Mine aren’t dance shoes, but they’re nice enough. I didn’t bring them with me, and I wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice by buying new shoes.”
“Smart.”
He chuckled. “I have my moments. But if I step on your toes, you can’t hold it against me. Gerard used to say I dance like a clumsy giraffe.”
“Your ex sounds like a real charmer,” I muttered, and Onno’s smile faltered. Shit. He’d brought up his ex, but hell if I’d allow that asshole to ruin our date. “We’ll just have to make some new memories. Yeah?”
He sent me a grateful smile. “I’d like that.”
We arrived at the studio as twilight settled, the mountains now silhouette against the darkening sky. The town was quiet,but the dance studio buzzed with an energy that felt like a world away from the quiet wilderness where I found solace.
“Ah, you must be Howell and Onno. Welcome!” Our dance instructor, José, greeted us with a flourish as vibrant as the flamboyant scarf looped around his neck. He was a whirlwind of encouragement and enthusiasm, moving with the grace of someone who had dedicated his life to the art of dance.
“Come, meet the others.” José beckoned, sweeping us into the studio, where soft music played and couples chatted in loose groups. “Everyone, these are our new dancers, Howell and Onno.”
A murmur of welcoming “Hellos” and “How are you?” followed. Tiago Banner was there with his boyfriend, Cas. Cas had done a stellar job fixing my bathroom two years ago. Tiago and his twin brother, Tomás, were Forestville’s most famous residents, though both former top models had now retired. They were still extraordinarily handsome men.
The polished floor of the dance studio gleamed under the warm lighting as Onno and I stepped into place among the other couples. José’s voice, clear and melodious, cut through the soft hum of music, guiding us to stand face-to-face, our hands tentatively searching for the right positions.
“Relax your shoulders, Howell,” José said, and I obliged. Some of the tension of the unfamiliarity ebbed away under his encouraging gaze.
“Okay, gentlemen, let’s start with the box step,” he said, demonstrating with fluid ease. “Forward, side, together, back, side, together.”
I mirrored his movements, hyperaware of Onno’s presence. We stumbled, our feet tangling in a clumsy shuffle. Onno’s chuckles, a sound so genuine, coaxed a smile onto my lips.
“Sorry,” he murmured, but his eyes showed no real apology—just sparkling amusement.
“Hey, no worries. We’re both learning.”
José paced before us, tapping the rhythm softly against his thigh, and gradually, we found our stride. One-two-three, one-two-three—the numbers looped in my head like a mantra, syncing with the steady thump of my heart every time our gazes locked.
“Look at you two!” José said after a while, clapping in delight. “You’ve got the basics down already.”
“Thanks to you,” Onno replied, his blue eyes crinkling, shining with a warmth that hadn’t been present when we’d first met, a softening around the edges. And something inside me swelled with an emotion I couldn’t name. His nervousness had also lessened as if he wasn’t as scared of disappointing me or others.
“Shall we try it with music now?” José asked, and without waiting for an answer, he started a melodic waltz that tempted the dancers with its lilting invitation.
As we danced, the world beyond Onno’s gaze seemed to fade. What was left was his hand in mine, firm and reassuring, and his other hand on my shoulder, following my lead confidently. Our steps flowed more naturally, the initial awkwardness melting into a rhythm that felt as easy as breathing.
“See? You’re a natural,” I said.
“Then so are you.”
“Maybe we’re just a good match…”