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me.”
    Thomas
did as instructed, his movements stiff for the first song or two
before he started to relax. “See?” I called over the
shouts of laughter and music. “Easy peasey.”
    “Yeah,
right.” He looked around at my family and friends, many of whom
were dancing with us. Sofie had enlisted Samuel to dance with her,
and her feet and hips were moving so quickly it was hard to keep up.
“I have a feeling I’m holding you back,” Thomas
called out to me.
    I
winked at him, pulling away to twirl once, shaking my hips as I went.
Sof whistled next to me, grabbing my hand. I happily complied,
laughing as she swung me away from Thomas. “Be right back!”
    I
could feel his eyes on me as I danced with my cousin and my brothers.
Callie had taken me dancing in London the night I met Thomas, and I
had spent most of the evening feeling awkward and out of place—the
complete opposite of how I felt now. Many of our family gatherings,
from formal parties to generic weekend dinners, ended up with
everyone on whatever makeshift dance floor we had room for. I could
do this kind of dancing in my sleep. The exhilarating feeling of the
quick foot movement, the hip shaking, the twirling, the laughing and
shouting as my family relaxed and let loose around me. I danced three
songs with Sofie and my brothers before I realized that I wasn’t
being the best host to Thomas. I kissed Sofie on her sweaty cheek
before I set off to find him—or a cold drink, whichever came
first.
    I
was red-faced and breathing hard when I collapsed into a seat next to
my mother. “You look good out there,” she said in her now
familiar slower drawl. I leaned over to pat her arm.
    “Thanks,
Mama. You’ll be up and dancing by the wedding.”
    Thomas
appeared at my side, two glasses in his hand. “I’m not
sure what this is,” he told me, setting one in front of me and
sitting down on my other side. “But your uncle told me I had to
try it.”
    I
peered into the cup at the cream-colored liquid. “Mmm,
horchata. This is amazing, Thomas, you’ll love it.”
    I
took a sip, whimpering a little with pleasure when I realized the
horchata had been spiked, adding a warmth to the creamy, cinnamon
goodness.
    “I
could drink this all day,” I moaned, setting the glass down.
    “Why
don’t we?” Thomas asked, licking a drop from his lip.
“That’s delicious.”
    “We
don’t because we would both gain a hundred pounds, and your
days of being a heart throb and chasing bad guys on screen would be
over.”
    He
looked down at the drink, nodding. “It is pretty rich.”
He set the cup down, leaning over the table so he could see my mom.
“May I get you something to drink, Mrs. Medina?”
    She
pointed at her still full glass of sangria. “No thank you,
dear.”
    “Did
I hear you two talking about the wedding?”
    I
smiled at my mom. “Just reminding her that we fully expect her
to dance at our wedding, so she better not be slacking on her
physical therapy.”
    “Oh,
absolutely,” he said, his voice very serious. “Dancing
will be a requirement, Mrs. Medina.”
    She
laughed. “Look at you both, bullying an old woman.”
    “Whatever,”
I argued. “You should see her dance, Thomas. She puts every one
of us to shame.”
    “Well,
that’s something I look forward to seeing on our wedding day,”
he said, winking at her.
    “Speaking
of the wedding…” I took a deep breath, shoring up my
courage. “Thomas and I started to make some plans last night.”
    “Thank
God,” Maria said, plopping into a seat across from us on the
other side of the table. “We’ve been wondering when you
were going to get a move on it.”
    I
scowled at her. “We didn’t want to plan anything until
Mama was feeling better.”
    My
mother patted my hand. “I don’t want you putting your
life on hold for me, mija. I’m fine!”
    “I
know, Mama. You’re doing so well. That’s why we felt
comfortable thinking about our plans now.”
    “So
when are you thinking?” Maria