And now I’ve met Amelia. Though we are pretty different—some would definitely call us opposites—I’m drawn to her. I want to know more. I’d like to get closer to her.

Does she feel the same? God, I hope so.

The music stops and we all automatically applaud.

“Come on now, everyone, join us on the dancefloor,” the DJ says as he starts another song. It’s a jazzy holiday tune.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas…

I smile at Amelia when she glances over at me. “Want to dance?”

She frowns. “You know how?”

I make a dismissive noise. “Of course I do.”

Maybe I don’t. Not like I took dance lessons or anything. But I know how to sway with a woman in my arms to the music, so how tough can it be?

“Then let’s go,” she says as she pushes her chair back and stands.

I stand with her, resting my hand at the small of her back while we walk toward the dancefloor. Plenty of people are already out there and we find a spot for ourselves. I take her hand, wrap my arm around her waist, and start moving to the slow beat of the music.

“Not bad, right?” I ask.

“You can dance,” she says, tipping her head back so her gaze meets mine. She has beautiful eyes. Dark brown and warm. She’s watching me as if she’s trying to figure me out. Like she’s hoping she can read my mind. I keep my expression neutral, glancing around the room, spotting the bride dancing with her father. Charlie’s dancing with his mom, Isobel. Everyone is smiling.

The vibe in this tent is positive. Full of happiness.

I like it.

“How long ago were you with that guy?” I ask out of the blue.

Amelia lifts her startled gaze to mine. “We broke up—a while ago.”

“You still in love with him?” I have to know. I’m not going to pursue a woman if she’s still wrapped up in her past.

She blinks. “Absolutely not.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yes.” She nods firmly. “I’m sure. I won’t even let my friends say his name in my presence. Just hearing it makes my blood boil.”

A chuckle leaves me. “I like you.”

“Really?” She shakes her head. “I sound silly. It’s just—I’m very set in my ways. Pretty particular. A little grouchy lately, I can’t lie. I’m not a fan of the holiday season. When your family works in retail your entire life, you look at it as a busy time to make money. Not a time of joy and reflection.”

“Go on,” I tell her.

“And it’s not like I’m trying to deter you, but people might talk if we started—seeing each other. You’re not my normal type,” she says, her cheeks turning pink.

“You’re not my normal type either. You’re a total upgrade,” I say with all the sincerity I can muster.

“I’m flattered,” she says wryly.

“It’s true.” Leaning down, I press a soft kiss to her forehead. “Am I moving too fast? I probably shouldn’t have kissed you earlier.”