Remy sighed. “I know. And...thanks for everything.”
“Hey, what are twins for?” Roderick grinned, his dark gaze traveling across the beach. “Look at Papa Dez getting down with your woman.”
Remy turned his head, grinning when he saw their grandfather dancing with Zandra. Desmond Brand—a tall, broad-shouldered, eighty-year-old man with meticulously groomed white hair and mustache—drew cheers and applause from the gathered crowd as he shuffled his feet and swayed his arthritic hips to the calypso music. When he dipped Zandra low, Remy and Roderick roared with approval and laughter and high-fived each other.
“I wanna be just like that old man when I grow up,” Roderick proclaimed.
“Hell, yeah.” Grinning broadly, Remy stood. “Come on. We’re missing the party.”
They climbed down from the boulder and sauntered across the beach. As they reached the others, the band struck up a slow number that lured the couples onto the dance floor.
As Grandma Eleanor teasingly reclaimed her husband, Remy approached Zandra. Her face was flushed and her eyes were glowing.
He held out his hand to her. “Dance with me.”
She hesitated, biting her lip. She’d had the same panicked look when he’d asked her to dance at Roderick and Lena’s wedding reception. But as a bridesmaid, she’d known that she couldn’t refuse to dance with the best man without raising some eyebrows.
Thankfully she didn’t refuse now.
As Remy pulled her into his embrace, she slipped her arms around his neck. As her soft, luscious breasts melted into his chest, he stifled a groan of pleasure and closed his eyes. His arms circled her waist, his hands resting just above the plump curve of her ass. She was the perfect height for him—not too short or tall. Just right.
Like everything else about her.
As they began swaying together, he bent his head to murmur in her ear, “I bet you made my grandfather feel thirty years younger.”
Zandra smiled. “Grandma Eleanor already does that for him.”
“True,” Remy agreed, following the direction of her gaze. He smiled when he saw his grandparents grinning affectionately at each other as they slow danced. “They’re amazing. Married sixty years and still going strong.”
“I know,” Zandra marveled softly. “Your parents are pretty remarkable, too, going on forty years. I can’t even imagine what that’s like.”
“Neither can I,” Remy murmured, “but I hope to find out someday. Don’t you?”
Zandra met his probing gaze for a long moment, then glanced down, her black lashes shadowing her high cheekbones. She didn’t answer him.
They danced in silence, their bodies moving as one to the rhythmic purr of steel drums. A gentle breeze blew tendrils of Zandra’s hair across Remy’s face, a soft caress. He could feel the heat of her skin beneath her lightweight dress. And the scent of her, exotic fruit and sultry woman, was an intoxicating aphrodisiac.
His hands tightened around her hips, tilting her closer. He heard her breath quicken, felt her nipples pucker against his chest. Blood rushed to his groin. If his family hadn’t been around, he would have palmed her curvy butt cheeks and ground himself against her.
All too soon the slow song ended, melting into an up-tempo soca number.
Zandra backed out of Remy’s arms, but to his immense relief she didn’t walk away or look for another partner. Holding his gaze, she stepped right into the dance, rolling her hips with a mesmerizing sensuality that took his breath away.
They moved rhythmically together, rocking from side to side, grooving and winding as the music pulsed between them.
When an electronic chord sizzled through the song, Remy dipped Zandra backward, then twirled her around. The hem of her dress flew up, teasing him with a glimpse of her smooth bare thighs.