Ivan’s personality wasn’t in opposition to his brother’s so much as complementary to it. Samson could be just as gentle and sweet to her, but there had been, and still was, an edginess and physicality to his presence that had always attracted Cassie, even though he’d never made an inappropriate move on her. She’d made it clear from the beginning she was waiting for marriage, and he’d respected her limit.
Besides his brother, Ivan had always been one of her favorite people, despite the fact that her father, uncles, and grandfather had been vocal in their disapproval of her dating Samson and being such close friends with two “white boys.”
She rolled her eyes, remembering her dad’s gruff intonation of those words, and how laughable the sentiment had been back then and was even more so in the present time. What saddened her, though, in the end, was that he’d succeeded in getting what he’d wanted all along: her close to home and in the clutches of family, married to a man he approved of—and miserable.
Ivan brought her focus back to the present, drawing her against him as they settled into the rhythm of the song the DJ was playing. “Baby Be My Love Song” by Easton Corbin.
He tucked her against him and gazed down at her. “I always thought you were gorgeous, Cassie, but you’ve only grown more beautiful with the years.”
Cassie chuckled and felt heat creep into her cheeks at his generous words. “It’s the low lighting, Ivan. The crow’s feet and lines are there.”
He shook his head and kissed her temple. “All I see is your pretty eyes. The sweet sparkle hasn’t left them, despite the years.”
“Or the miles. I’m glad you think so.”
His touch at her waist, just barely above her hip, was gentle but secure, like his grip on her hand, and he guided her around the dance floor with the same practiced ease his brother had earlier. Comforted by how easily they fit, she considered releasing his left hand and wrapping her arms around his neck and laying her head on his chest.
Some of her happiest memories revolved around spending time with Samson and his brother. They’d both played for the Divine Vikings varsity football team, and she’d played the clarinet in the Vikings marching band. Whether it was a sports- or school-related activity, lunchtime, or in classes, it didn’t matter. She’d always felt centered when they were around.
She was slightly above average in height at five eight, and Ivan and his brother were both over six feet tall, and she frankly loved the way it felt to be next to a man she could look up to, even in heels.
He stroked up and down in a light caress from her hip to her lower ribs, and she inhaled softly at the tug deep within her core, responding to his touch.
“I’m glad you and Samson were able to reconnect over the last few weeks.”
She snorted and shook her head. “It was a little bumpy, but I’m glad, too. He still has a tendency to speak his mind.”
Ivan grinned, and his chest rumbled as he chuckled. Her nipples took notice as she brushed against him in the dance. His hand slid farther around her waist and caressed up and down her spine and a wave a goose bumps flickered over her skin.
Back years ago, he’d never held her like this when they’d shared a dance, and she had to catch her breath at the way her body responded to him. She was an adult, after all, and he was all man. It was a normal physiological reaction. He’d probably be shocked if he knew she was getting wet.
She looked around wondering if anyone else was watching or noticing her rather tight nipples through the silky knit of her dress, but everyone was wrapped up in their own conversations. She caught a glimpse of Samson at the table with their friends, talking and laughing, and then he snared her gaze and smiled at her. At them.
“You okay?” Ivan asked softly, his lips so kissable and full, and only inches from hers. She nodded and looked over at their table again.
Grace was there with Jack, who was also a member of their graduating class. Ethan and Adam were likely at home or at work but no doubt looking forward to her return. Lydia was there, sitting between Chance and Clayton, laughing with Veronica Stinson, who was there with her men, Hank and Travis. These weren’t strangers to her. They were friends with histories and commitments to their ménages.
Oh boy.
If she’d met Samson and Ivan in a different time or under other circumstances that could’ve been them. She was hit again by regret that she’d ever let them go from her life, which was quickly replaced by guilt. For Joseph’s and Tamara’s sake, she couldn’t wish things were different.
“Cassie?” Ivan murmured with concern evident in his voice. “Want me to take you back to the table?”