It was the look in his eyes. Not quite pleading, not even passion…just a quiet sense of rightness.

Like they were supposed to dance this song, on this night. With each other.

And just like that, Emma let it go. For tonight, at least, she let the pain go.

His eyes flared—green tonight—when their palms touched, and he closed his thumb on the back of her hand as though to prevent her from changing her mind.

But Emma didn’t change her mind.

She let him lead her onto the dance floor until they mingled in with the swaying couples. Instead of releasing her hand, he tugged, using the contact to pull her closer so his other arm could move around her waist.

The palm of his hand was hot against the small of her back, and she let out a shuddering breath as she lifted her free hand to his shoulder.

The hand holding hers twisted slightly, gripping hers more tightly.

And then they were dancing.

“You were right, you know,” she heard herself say, as she stared at the pristine collar of his shirt.

He didn’t answer, but she knew he was listening.

“The other night, when you put your hand on my back…you said I’d liked it when you touched me there. I did.” Emma swallowed. “I still do.”

In response, his palm pressed even more firmly against her, pulling her in until their hips brushed. Then his head dipped, his lips near her ear, his voice husky.

“I know.”

Emma’s eyes drifted shut as they somehow moved even closer.

Only then did she listen to the lyrics of the song, and she remembered. Back when she’d listened to this song on repeat, she and Cassidy had been together.

He’d known it was her favorite.

Her eyes flew open and she pulled back just enough to look up at his face.

“This song…it’s ‘I Told You So.’ ”

He didn’t smile. “I may have sold my soul to Julie and Mitchell in order to pick the last song. It’s not exactly wedding-night material, but I doubt they’re paying attention to the words.”

Emma’s lips parted, stunned by the admission. “You requested this?”

His smile was slight. “I have fond memories.”

She laughed. “Fond? Really? Seems to me this song was a point of argument more often than not.”

“Ah, but listen,” he said, pointing a finger. “I think you’ll notice something different.”

Emma quieted to listen, just as a female voice joined the male’s. She heard what she hadn’t registered before.

“It’s a duet!”

He smiled. “This version came out a couple years after we broke up.”

Emma shook her head, half-amused, half-baffled…baffled that he’d not only remembered a silly seven-year-old argument, but cared enough to request the song at a friend’s wedding.

Country music wasn’t big in New York—at all—but it had been more popular in North Carolina, and both she and Cassidy had been occasional fans when the mood was right.

Back then, Emma had been particularly partial to Carrie Underwood, and had been over the moon for one of Carrie’s singles, “I Told You So,” a heartbreaking ballad that she’d listened to on near constant repeat.

Cassidy, being a self-proclaimed country purist, had broken the news that the song was hardly an original. That honor belonged to Randy Travis, who’d originally recorded the song back in the eighties.

The result had been a good-natured war in which they each tried to outplay the other, arguing the merits of each version.

Emma hadn’t thought about it in years—hadn’t listened to the song since they broke up.

She shook her head as she listened. “It’s perfect. Both their voices together. The best of both.”

He pulled her closer again, and she let him. His head dipped slightly so they were cheek to cheek. “Guess some things are better together.”

Emma’s fingers clenched on his shoulder at the words. He wasn’t talking about the song. At least not just about the song.

He was talking about people.

He was talking about them.

Emma closed her eyes and listened to the music, letting herself sink into the moment. Letting herself sink into Cassidy, his smell and his warmth, and, most alarming of all, his familiarity.

She remembered this. Not just her mind, not just her body, but her soul remembered this.

“It’s funny,” she said, turning her head so that her cheek brushed his shoulder. “This song fits so much better now than it did back then.”

His cheek brushed her hair. “I’m not sure that’s such a good thing, considering the song’s about heartbreak.”

“True,” she said, on a dreamy sigh. “It’s still beautiful, though. In a hauntingly melancholy kind of way.”

Emma realized that now she was the one talking in double meaning, although she hadn’t realized she was doing it.

The song began to build into the final chorus, and Emma felt a little jolt of panic at the realization that the dance was almost over.

And beyond the panic, a surge of shock, because she didn’t want it to end. Didn’t want to say good night to Cassidy. Didn’t want to go back to being forced, awkward strangers tomorrow.

Cassidy’s hand slid up, his palm moving over her back in a caress, and she heard his breath quicken. Their joined hands shifted again, so his thumb brushed against her palm, and she felt fireworks at the simple touch. Felt his reaction as well.