he thought he was going to win the game of wits they were playing. That was a delusion on his part.
Twyla laughed, too.
Leading her back two steps and then sideways, he said, “Aw, Twyla, indeed you have not.”
There was so much more meaning behind his statement, her feet faltered, and if not for Forrest she would have tripped and fallen all the way to the floor. His hold increased, keeping her upright and dancing.
Peeved by both his hold and his attitude, Twyla planted her heels on the dance floor, bringing them both to a stop. To her dismay, the music stopped at that exact same moment. She chose to consider the timing as luck. She’d been about to tell him the game hadn’t even started yet, this one that he’d challenged her to, and was thankful she hadn’t spoken those words. They’d have carried loudly through the silent room, and she certainly didn’t want anyone else to know about the game they’d always secretly played.
Forrest merely lifted a brow.
She repeated the action, but added a glare. It was time for him to realize she had grown up and taken control of her own life.
And she would win. Even if that just meant keeping him from talking to her father tonight.
The music started again and, more determined than ever, Twyla took the lead this time, initiating footsteps that had Forrest hopping to keep up. She loved having the upper hand, being in control, and Forrest had best learn to move a whole heap faster or he’d be trampled in her wake.
Packed with couples, the dance floor vibrated beneath her feet. She laughed again and kicked her heels higher as she pushed Forrest backward and pulled him forward. He was keeping up, and that kept her moving faster and bolder, stepping so close her body almost touched his before they separated again.
Her temperature rose with each step, and her heart thudded, pumping blood that tingled with excitement to every inch of her body. This was Twyla Nightingale in full bloom. The fact she was kicking up her heels with the best-looking man for miles around increased the thrill of it all.
When the music stopped she was slightly winded, but so was Forrest. Still holding both of her hands, he tugged her toward the edge of the wooden floor, where there was a line of tables.
“Oh, no,” she said, holding her ground by pressing her feet onto the floor. “We aren’t done yet.”
“I have to get out of this suit coat,” he said.
“Not now, Slim’s about to hit the keys again.”
She’d no sooner spoken than notes rang through the air. Dancers cheered, recognizing the ragtime tune that would have people dancing fast and wild, exchanging partners after no more than a couple of twirls.
Forrest hooked her waist and danced her to the edge of the floor, where he released her after a twirl that ended when another man grabbed her waist and danced her back in the other direction. Twisting to keep one eye on Forrest, she watched him toss his suit coat and tie over the back of an empty chair and then grab a woman, dancing deep into the crowd.
Twirling from one man to the next, Twyla tried to find Forrest. He was taller than several others and should be easy to spot, but the constant spinning didn’t give her vision time to focus. The men all looked alike. Without his blue suit coat his white shirt and suspenders blended in with all the others.
As the music briefly paused, signaling it was time to swap partners again, Twyla was spun into another man’s arms. Without noticing who her partner was, she twisted her neck, searching the crowd.
“He’s right behind you.”
Twyla snapped around.
“Forrest is right behind you,” Ty said while shuffling her slightly sideways. “Dancing with Norma Rose.”
Twyla’s stomach fell.
* * *
Forrest willed his hands to rest loosely upon Norma Rose. A part of him wanted to hug her, tell her how deeply sorry he was for what Galen had put her through. Dancing with Twyla had reminded him of all he’d left behind, and how badly things had eaten at him over the years. Especially during those first few months while he’d been incapacitated, healing from the wounds caused by his stepfather.
No one had been safe from Galen.
Forrest had attempted to apologize to Norma Rose a year after he’d left, when he’d been able to walk again, but a car accident had stopped his efforts. Two weeks ago, when Norma Rose called asking to hire Slim for the parties, he’d broached the subject by telling her he’d tried to stop Galen’s allegations, but she’d said his sentiments were a little late. She was wrong. They weren’t just sentiments, and it was never too late. Not for some things.
“This is some shindig,” he said, knowing it wouldn’t be long before Slim stopped the music for everyone to switch partners again. “You outdid yourself.”
She shook her head. “I can’t take any of the credit. This party was all Twyla and Josie.”
“You’re too modest,” he said. “Everyone knows you run Nightingale’s.”
“Things have changed.”
He’d have to be blind not to notice how she twisted to gaze at Ty and the bright smile she flashed at the other man. Forrest didn’t have time to react or comment before the music paused. As graceful as a butterfly, Norma Rose fluttered out of his arms and into Ty’s. The other man swept her onward without missing a beat.
The woman who landed in Forrest’s arms was more like a blue jay—pretty to look at, but loud and ornery.
“I told you to stay away from my sister,” Twyla squawked.
“I’m free to dance with whomever I want,” he said, twirling her in the opposite direction from where Ty spun Norma Rose.
“Not Norma Rose,” Twyla insisted. “She doesn’t want anything to do with you. Hasn’t for years. Don’t you see that?” With a well-aimed glare, she added, “You aren’t welcome here, Forrest.”
He didn’t react to the sting of her words. There was no reason to. He hadn’t expected any of the Nightingales to want anything to do with him. He didn’t blame them, nor did he blame Roger for putting Galen behind bars. Galen did, though, and had sworn vengeance. If what his mother claimed was true, Galen might get his chance, and that was what Forrest was here to stop.
They were near the edge of the floor when the music ended. There would be no more switching partners. The song was over.
Forrest used his close proximity to the tables to grab his jacket and tie. Flipping the suit coat over his shoulder, he gave Twyla a wink. “See you around, doll.”
She looped an arm through his before he’d taken more than two steps. “You’re leaving?”
He had no intention of stopping, but something in her tone stilled his feet. Glancing down, the shimmer in her eyes held a touch of sadness. He felt that, too, deep down where it had settled years ago. Not about to let the emotion show, he grinned. “Are you flipping sides already?”
“Fl-fl—” she stuttered
