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I should have figured he would in the end, because that is how Noah Ashcroft is and always has been. When he sets his mind to something, he won’t stop until he’s good at it.

That doesn’t mean he won’t get flustered when he isn’t. After we came to Beck’s bungalow and he said our first exercise was slow dancing, Noah rubbed his hands together and said, “Sounds easy enough. Let’s show him our moves, Sunshine.”

Ten minutes later, after stepping on my toes for the fifth time, he threw up his hands. I had Beck take over in hopes he could help Noah find a groove like he did last night. Those moments have been looping in my mind throughout the day no matter what we’ve been doing, this included. Especially given how close their bodies are to each other right now.

“Ouch!” Beck grunts.

I press my lips together to stop from laughing.

“Sorry.” Noah groans. “I’m used to leading in a dance, so this is odd for me.”

“You were stepping on Quinn’s toes as the leader as well, so that is obviously not the issue.”

“Then what is the issue, oh wise mentor?”

Beck’s eyes narrow, and the two of them face off, their demeanors no longer relaxed and playful. “You’re thinking too hard.”

“I’m trying to get it right.”

“The purpose of this exercise is like the others we’ve done. It’s about being in tune with your partner, nothing else. This doesn’t require perfection.”

Noah grits his teeth. “But if I can’t even dance right, then what’s the point?”

“The point is to surrender, to feel your partner and sync with them in movement. Yes, there is a leader in dancing, but that shouldn’t be forced. Let it come naturally as you move.”

Noah clenches his teeth but lets Beck take him back into his arms. I already know by how tense his body is that this isn’t going to go well, and a few seconds later, Noah steps on Beck’s toe again.

“This is hopeless.”

“It’s not,” Beck insists. “You’ve danced before, yes?”

“Of course I have.”

“We danced at our wedding,” I chime in.

“And what was different for you then?” Beck asks.

Noah looks over at me, some of the tension in his features easing. “I was only thinking about how beautiful Quinn looked, how lucky I was that she married me and I got to hold her in my arms.”

My eyes become glassy, and I smile softly at him. “You didn’t step on my toes,” I breathe.

“I didn’t.”

Beck gently nudges Noah until he’s standing in front of me, Beck to our side. “What do you think was different for him then, Quinn?”

“He wasn’t thinking about performing or being perfect.” I stare into Noah’s eyes and take his hands. “You were just enjoying yourself.”

“I was. It was one of the best nights of my life.”

“Mine, too.” I squeeze his hands.

“And there it is,” Beck says. “Stop trying to be perfect, Noah. There isn’t judgment here. You can mess up, you can fail, and there’s nothing wrong with it. Putting in the effort and communicating is what matters.”

“He’s right,” I add. “Just be yourself, baby. Be the man who was with us last night and this morning.”

I place one of Noah’s hands on my shoulder and the other on my waist. Beck moves to step away, but I stop him. “Get behind Noah.”

Noah’s cheek twitches as Beck follows my command, placing his hands on Noah’s hips.