When Kate’s face sparked into an all-consuming smile, his heart rate quieted and the music once again dominated the room.

“I’d be delighted.”

The language was as dated as the fantasy, but she was very much real, a fact only confirmed when her warm hand found its way into his while the other placed itself on his shoulder. His found her waist. They drew close. Close enough to fall in love.

“I don’t know how to dance like this,” he confessed.

“Just follow my lead.”

Kate stepped simply, nudging him along. Never judging his lack of confidence or shouting out when his foot accidentally grazed her toes. Soon, he got the hang of it, and they flew across the floor like dolls in a music box. His heart grew. And grew. And grew. Until he thought it would explode right out of his chest and hand itself over to her forever.

In this dance, he saw everything he’d been denying himself his entire life: the chance to be free. Not only of his past, but of his own fears and hatred of the world. By trying to protect himself, he’d robbed himself of simple, easy joys like dancing.

And falling in love.

Not that he would have fallen in love before this moment. There was no one on earth like Kate Buckner, and even if he’d been looking for love before now, he wouldn’t have found it. It existed in her and her alone. And now, he’d found it.

As they twirled and tripped and floated across the floor, Kate whistled the tune, her eyes never leaving his face and his never leaving hers. Could she feel his heartbeat? Could she hear it? Could she make out the Morse code of its beating? Bum… Bum… I think I… Bum… Bum… Love you.

They spun out and stopped their movements when Kate’s song wound to a close. Unmoving, they held one another as if they hadn’t stopped the waltz. Her eyes seemed to be made for him to admire. The perfect color. The perfect shape. The perfect windows into a perfect soul.

Was he crazy enough to think she felt this way too?

“I have some bad news,” Kate whispered, too close to him to speak at a normal volume. Clark’s hands shook.

“What’s that?”

A glance upward. A guilty smile.

“We’re under the mistletoe.”

Sure enough. Green leaves and white berries dangled overhead.

“You know the tradition, don’t you?” she asked.

Nodding, not trusting himself to speak, he waited for her to answer the unspoken questions hovering in the air between them. There was no way she didn’t hear his heart now.