Andrés lands on top of me, clutching my back to his chest, and laughing hard in my ear. I'm too stunned to make a sound, but then Andrés is pulling me up against him, asking me if I'm okay. I turn to him with a slackened jaw, and see his eyes are wet with happy tears.
"Wasn't that fun, mija?" Laughter rings in each word.
And just like that, I forget about my holy trip of terror. I forget about the biting wind and the pain in my tailbone as I lean into him and plant a kiss on his frozen lips. Seeing Andrés this happy is like a balm to my soul. I wish he could laugh like this always.
***
The lodge is packed by the time we heave our exhausted and sore bodies into chairs later that day. We rode down the hill for what felt like hours until we were both so tired, we could hardly stand, let alone walk. I've never had so much fun in all my life. Andrés orders me a coffee with Bailey's Irish Cream, and I down most of it by the time our nachos arrive. I'm feeling pretty good after my second cup and a full stomach.
Andrés and I are sitting next to each other at the end of a long community table, and I lean back in my chair and watch the band set up as he reaches for my hand. He flashes a long, languid smile and winks at me when I look up into his soft eyes. I don't resist when he leans in for a kiss. Mm. I relish the feel of his warm lips on mine. He tastes like spiced rum and queso. And now that I'm exhausted, full and tipsy, I want very much to go back to our hotel and make love the rest of the night.
Andrés breaks the kiss when the band starts up. He kicks back his chair and extends a hand.
"May I have this dance?"
I look up at him and laugh. "I don't know if I have the energy."
"This is the best time to dance, mija," he says with a gleam in his eyes. "When you are loosened up."
I let him help me out of my chair, and then I follow him onto the dance floor.
The music sounds like German Polka. I vaguely remember hearing it on an elementary school field trip to the German settler town of Fredericksburg. I'm not quite sure how to dance to it, so I follow his lead, relieved when he two-steps us around the floor. And here's the amazing part. Despite being tired, sore and tipsy, I don't miss a step. I remember how humiliated I was the first time we danced together. I've never been a great dancer, and I was so nervous around Andrés the first night, I was stiff and clumsy. My raging hormones and his pure male sexiness had me so much on edge, I'd felt like he was trying to sweep the floor with a broken broomstick.
Now, I feel like I'm gliding, and I imagine the soles of my feet are like that plastic sled and the floor is made of ice. We laugh and smile and he twirls me again and again, and I don't fall over my feet once. I think this magical day filled with crunchy cornflakes, sledding, dancing and passionate lovemaking, might just end up being the best day of my life. The only thing I can think of that would make it even better is if we ended it with more lovemaking. As I look into his darkening gaze, I notice his slow, seductive smile and feel the warmth from his hand seeping into mine, I know that's exactly how our day will end.
***
Andrés
I can't believe how easy it is to dance with Christina. We glide together as if we've been doing this for years. The truth is we've only been back to Dylan's a few times since the first night we met. I could tell dancing wasn't Christina's thing, and I didn't want to make her uncomfortable. But tonight her feet slide across the floor with ease and she sways in perfect timing to my rhythm. When the band strikes up a slow country song, I move my hand off her shoulder and settle it on her lower back, just above that sweet round ass I love so much. I pull her closer, pressing her soft body against mine.
I kiss the top of her forehead, whispering into her ear. "You look happy."
"I am." She flashes a radiant smile that nearly takes my breath away. "Because you are."
I falter and nearly stumble at the sincerity in her emerald eyes. Is that all it takes to make her happy? To see me happy? I'm humbled, grateful, and saddened as the realization washes over me. She's been mourning the loss of our child all this month, and what have I done to comfort her? Not much, because I've been wrapped up in my own miserable problems. I think about this job, and how much I hate it, and how I carry that stress home with me each night. If her happiness depends on mine, she will never, ever be happy unless I quit Cruz Automotive.
"I love you."
I look down at Christina. Worry lines are etched into her brow and her rosy lips are turned down. She must have sensed my unhappiness. I swallow hard and then force a smile. I will not let anything ruin this day. "I love you, too."
I wrap her in my arms, pressing more kisses on her temple as we move slowly to the gentle rhythm of the music. We dance a few more slow songs and drink a few more drinks. By the time we finish dancing to "The Cotton Eyed Joe," her cheeks are glowing with radiance. I've never seen her more beautiful.