Having Paisley Parish in his arms was a smorgasbord of sensory memories. The scent of her hair was somehow the same and different from the first time he'd danced with her, after she'd laid one on him that long-ago homecoming. He'd fallen a little bit in love and a whole lot of lust with her that night. She was bold and fun and fearless in a way he'd always admired the hell out of. And the two and a half years after had done nothing but sink him deeper.