Strains of music filled the room, wrapping her in sensuous sound. She slipped into his waiting arms, and stepped left to his right, back to his forward, around and around. The melody tied them together—his fingers pressed her to him, his hand warm on her back—they skimmed the floor as one person.
She inhaled the soapy scent of his neck as she relaxed her cheek against his chest. When she lifted her eyes to his soft gaze, he lowered his face until his lips met hers. They danced more slowly, heedless of the music until they simply swayed in place, holding each other close.
She stepped back, and clasping his hand pulled him toward the staircase. She felt his eyes on her, as warm as his hands had been, and warmth spread through her body.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
At the harsh electronic sound she jolted upright.
"Mom! The meatloaf is done. The stove's buzzing."
She pushed herself from the chair and turned down the CD player.
"Susie, tell Daddy and Brian to wash up. Set the table for me, will you?"
Before slicing the meatloaf, she walked back to the living room to get her wine glass. She drained the last swallow and stuck the glass in the dishwasher.
"Dinner's ready. Come and get it."
Ruth Douillette is a freelance writer and photographer. She's an associate editor at the Internet Review of Books and blogs at Upstream and Down.