“Admit it, you like her.”
“More all the time,” she confessed with a smile. “She really is a dear, isn’t she? And she loves Joel so much.”
“Obviously mutual.”
“Oh, yes. He’s crazy about her.” Looking pensive now, Elaine gazed across the room to where Joel and Nic were moving to the center of the dance floor. “I can’t help thinking back to Joel and Heather’s big, formal wedding. It was so different from this intimate little affair. Beautiful in its own way but different. And as happy as Joel was with Heather, this seems so much more fitting for the man he is now.”
Ethan didn’t want to talk about his late sister-in-law tonight, six years after her death. “This is who Joel is now,” he agreed simply, then changed the subject. “Do you want something to eat? I’ll get a plate for you.”
“No, thank you. I’d better go join your father. He’s starting to give me signals that he’s ready to be rescued from Nic’s uncle’s fishing stories. By the way, you really should ask the maid of honor to dance. I know you don’t care for dancing, but it is sort of tradition, you know.”
He frowned as he glanced instinctively across the room to where Aislinn sat at a table eating with Nic’s mother and brother. “Considering my dancing skills—or lack thereof—she would probably just as soon I didn’t ask her.”
“Nonsense, Ethan. You’re perfectly capable of moving in time to the music. And why wouldn’t you want to dance with her? She’s very pretty. There’s something a little…I don’t know…different about her, but I suppose that’s to be expected from Nicole’s best friend, isn’t it?”
Elaine seemed to have no idea just how “different” Aislinn was rumored to be—and not just in Nic’s refreshingly unpredictable way, Ethan mused after his mother went off to rescue his dad. No surprise, of course. He wouldn’t have known himself had it not been for that incident back in the fall, when Aislinn had called to warn of Nic’s impending accident.
It wasn’t as if anyone around here ever openly talked about it—not that he’d heard, at least. They simply acted a bit wary around Aislinn, as though they weren’t quite sure what to say to her.
Oddly enough, he was sometimes treated the same way back in Danston. As though he didn’t quite fit in with everyone else. Though, as far as he knew, no one had ever accused him of having any supernatural abilities.
The bride and groom finished their dance, and everyone else was encouraged to take the floor. With a slight shrug, Ethan moved toward Aislinn. What the heck. It wasn’t as if there was anything else to do. And dancing with a beautiful woman—even one who pretended to be a psychic—was more entertaining than just standing there being bored.
Chapter Three
Aislinn was taken completely off guard when Ethan asked her to dance, which perhaps explained why she couldn’t come up with a quick and polite excuse to decline. Not that there was any real reason why she shouldn’t have accepted, of course, she reminded herself as they moved toward the small dance floor. It was sort of expected for the best man and the maid of honor to share a dance.
She was aware of that same odd hesitation when he turned to take her into his arms, almost a wariness of letting him touch her. She still couldn’t understand why she felt that way around him. She’d touched nearly everyone else in this room, shaking hands in the reception line, exchanging brief social hugs with the people she had known most of her life. There had been no unusual flashes of insight, no unprecedented reactions to the physical contact. There was just something about Ethan….
“Why did you look so surprised when I asked you to dance?” he asked as soon as they music began.
Keeping as much distance between them as politely possible, she shrugged lightly before answering, “I just didn’t think you would.”
Mentally she dared him to make some smart-aleck remark about how he would have expected her to predict the invitation, but to her relief, he let it pass. Maybe he’d gotten tired of making digs about her so-called abilities. At least she hoped that was the case.
“I guess you and I haven’t gotten off to a very good start,” he said abruptly. “And I suppose that’s my fault. I’m not very good at the social thing—meeting people, making small talk. Saying the right things.”
“You choose not to be good at it because it isn’t important to you,” she murmured in return. “You’re perfectly capable of making polite conversation when you make the effort.”
She was almost surprised when he agreed with her rather than challenge her again. “You’re probably right. I just don’t choose to make the effort very often.”
“I’m not exactly a party animal either,” she admitted after a moment. “I prefer small gatherings to large crowds. And I sometimes have trouble knowing what to say to people I don’t know very well. So I’ll take part of the blame for any awkwardness between us.”
“Very generous of you.”
His tone sounded more humorous than mocking, so she smiled. “Yes, I thought so.”
He seemed to search for something else innocuous to say. “They’ll be cutting the cake soon, I guess. Will it bother you to watch them chop it up?”
“No.” She was amused by his wording. “Why would it?”
“Well, you must have spent a lot of hours on the decorations.”
“That’s my job. I charge well for my time—though I made this one as a gift to Nic and Joel.”
“Nice of you. Do you run your business out of your house or do you have a bakery with helpers?”
“I recently leased a small shop because I’d outgrown my kitchen at home. I have two part-time employees for baking and deliveries, but I do most of the work myself. I prefer it that way for now.”
“As good as you are at it, you could probably build up a pretty decent business. Hire a few more people to do the mixing and baking while you concentrate on the arty part. Maybe teach a couple to decorate in your style for everyday orders, saving yourself for the really complicated stuff. You could advertise in Little Rock and online, get your name out there….”
Laughing a little, she tilted her head to look up at him, seeing a gleam in his eyes that had nothing to do with her and everything to do with her business. “Hey, just because you’re here to organize Joel’s office, don’t make the mistake of thinking I want the same thing. I’m perfectly happy with my little operation and I’m making enough to take care of my needs for now.”
“For now, maybe,” he agreed, “but what about the future? You should be thinking about—”
“Ethan, this is a wedding reception, not a business conference.”
His mouth quirked in a slight smile. “I’m painfully aware of that.”
The weak joke passed by her as she found herself staring at his mouth. If just that hint of a smile had softened his expression so much, she couldn’t imagine how much a full-blown grin would change him. Though she had a strong feeling few people saw
