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He wasn’t enamored or tripping over himself, but without a doubt he was seeing me for the first time, and he liked what he saw. I wasn’t blind, I knew what signs to look for, and he displayed all of them.
A rush of feminine pride settled low in my gut and I basked in it.
I wasn’t William’s usual type and I knew it. Even after only being home for a few months, he’d already made a name for himself as a playboy. He didn’t see sex as anything special, and he probably laughed at the idea of relationships.
I was his opposite and there was no shame in that, or in how he chose to live.
This probably wouldn’t change anything in the long run, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy it.
Taking the punch he offered, I sipped it and hummed lowly at the sweet flavor. “It is good,” I said, catching the slight stiffening to his frame from the corner of my eye.
I didn’t have a chance to ask about that before I got pulled into another conversation with an older woman in town asking when I’m going to do my next vaccine clinic for small pets.
I saw Will standing off to the side waiting his turn to resume our conversation when I got pulled another way by someone else asking me questions.
After about 30, maybe even 45 minutes, all the people and their vet questions seemed to subside when Will walked up to me, handing me another cup of punch, claiming, “Man, you sure are popular at this party.”
Before I could even respond though, a man around our age stopped next to me, his long hair pulled back with a tie as he fidgeted with the hat in his hands. The symbol on his breast pocket told me he was one of the ranch hands at Dennis’s place and I tilted my head.
“Hi, it’s George, right? How is that calf doing?”
Last time I’d been there they’d all been worried over a mother cow and the baby she was set to have soon. I’d never gotten a call, so I assumed everything went okay. Sure enough, he nodded, one of his hands raising to rub the back of his neck.
“She’s doing fine, happily frolicking around the pasture with the others now. I didn’t come over to talk about that though.” He put his hat back on and continued, “ I came to ask if you’d like to dance.”
And just like that, the silence was back, only this time it felt…different.
The eyes were on me but for some reason, William’s stare felt heavier. When I managed to sneak a look at him, I nearly had to do a double take at the scowl that’d magically appeared in the seconds I’d glanced away.
Why did he look so angry?
Shaking that to the side, I focused on George, the nerves in my stomach shivering to life again as I took him in. He was attractive in his own way. Long brown hair that was obviously well-kept, kind eyes, and a nervousness that I never expected to be directed anywhere near me.
There was no harm in a dance, right?
Setting my punch down, I nodded, warming at the excitement all but sparking behind his eyes. “That sounds good, though I feel I should warn you that I’m not the best dancer, least of all in heels. I might step on your feet.”
He shrugged, a wide smile curving over his lips as he offered a hand and I took it. “I’m used to working with horses, Beatrice. These boots are more than strong enough to handle your weight.”
He had a point.
It took me a bit to get into the rhythm of the song. It wasn’t one I recognized immediately but the tempo was good. Halfway through I was having the time of my life, George occasionally twirling me as the world blurred into a mass of color.
I’d never been the sort to like dancing, but maybe I’d have to do it more often.
When the song wound down, George tipped his head and stepped back. “Thank you for the dance. Would you like-.”
Whatever he was going to ask, he didn’t get to finish before William cut in, easily sliding his frame between George and me with that charming smile of his that looked…a bit strained.
His shoulders were in a hard line, and I’d never seen him look so tense.
There was an edge to his smile too as he looked at me, acting as if George wasn’t right there.
“Mind if I cut in?”
He didn’t wait for an answer before taking my hand and all but dragging me away. I shot George a bewildered and apologetic look over William’s shoulder. He didn’t seem to know what was going on either.
Focusing back on William, I huffed, not liking the way he’d manhandled me. “William Lowery, that was rude, and I know for a fact your mother raised you better.” Forcibly prying myself out of his grip, I planted a hand on my hip and glared him down.
