Happy Little Accidents

let me take you dancin'

"Hey sailor." Zak approached the cute bespeckled groomsman with a sweet smile. He was the only one in the wedding party notably not dancing or drinking. He held a bottle of root beer in one hand, the other tucked in the pocket of his charcoal gray dress pants while he watched the celebrations unfold.

She briefly met him yesterday at the rehearsal dinner, but there was such a rush to get through things and finalize last minute details that she didn't get his name.

"Uh...I uhh... Hi?" He sputtered, blinking behind wire framed glasses. Seemingly surprised that she was talking to him. He fidgeted with the label on his soda, picking at the corner with his thumb.

Zak smirked. The quiet, shy types were always fun. And his adorable grandpa glasses were honestly kind of doing it for her.

If there was one thing a wedding was good for it was a quick fuck. And Jenny told her that there would be plenty of single people in attendance. Zak spent a good amount of time - maybe more than she'd like to admit - surveying her options before setting her sights on one of the groomsmen.

He was tall and lean. Blond haired and blue eyed. Handsome in a soft kind of way. And with his quiet, reserved demeanor he was almost unnoticeable in a crowd. She couldn't tell if he was just trying to blend in or truly didn't want the attention.

"Got a name? Or should I stick with Sailor?" She asked, gently adjusting his tie and looking up at him through her lashes. Relishing in the blush creeping up his neck and over his cheeks. He was too easy to tease. But. That did make it more fun.

"B-bob." He choked out. He looked down at the floor. After a beat he cleared his throat and met her sultry gaze with a little more confidence, "Lieutenant Robert Floyd, ma'am."

"Ooh, a lieutenant? Aren't I a lucky girl." She giggled, "I'm Zak. Why don't you finish your drink and take me for a spin?"

"It's - uh - I think I'm finished." Bob set the half empty bottle on the table behind him and offered his hand. It wouldn't be polite to turn down a dance.

Especially when the request came from someone so beautiful. Mint wasn't a color just anyone could pull off. But with her shoulder length black hair in neat curls, big brown eyes, and sun kissed skin... She reminded him of a mermaid.

Zak twirled herself under his arm as they made their way to the dance floor. Something soft and romantic lilted through the speakers, couples swaying in time. Bob settled his free hand at her waist, trying to keep a respectable distance between them.

But she wasn't having any of that. She moved both his hands to her hips and laced her fingers together behind his head, gently scraping her nails through his hair and closing some of the space between them.

"Haven't you ever slow danced before?"

He swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing slightly, and shook his head. He tried to keep his eyes on hers. It was rude to stare. And worse to ogle. But her pouty red mouth was drawing him in and the tight sweetheart cut of her dress was right in his line of sight every time he glanced downward. And she smelled sweeter than vanilla cupcakes.

"No. Um. Well, yes. Sort of."

"It's a yes or no question, Bobby."

"I took ballroom dancing classes." Bob explained, smiling sheepishly, "I can waltz, fox trot, polka, and even tango."

"Cultured. I like that."

"This is ah, more... intimate... than what I'm used to." He confessed quietly.

"Don't get out much?"

"Job, uh... job keeps me busy. What about you?"

He tugged Zak closer. One large hand splayed across the small of her back, the other pulling one of her hands away from his neck to hold between their chests. Still close. Still intimate. Just less high-school-prom and closer to the proper form he was apparently used to.