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“Oh, fine!” Her acceptance came out in a soft snarl that belied the flutter of anticipation she felt. Dancing was as natural to her as breathing, and the idea of swirling around the floor, her limbs tangled with Nick’s, was damned exhilarating.
And the song the band had just started was fast, not one of those sappy love ballads that caused “dancers” to just sway in place. Some claimed slow dances were the most romantic, but Tess found them to be awkward and pointless. Dancing was meant for bodies to move, to feel, to push limits.
On the floor, Nick took her hand in his, splaying his other hand against her back. “Keep up now, Contessa.” Then he gave her the most devastating grin she’d ever seen. It liquefied her; only years of discipline kept her steady on her feet.
He spun her into a brisk modified polka. Her heart raced, and heat coursed through her. Left, right, left. Right, left, right. All while whirring in tightly controlled circles that kept her curves pressed to his broad body, hard with muscles carved from hours of manual labor. One of his legs was between hers, as much as the denim of her skirt would allow, and she felt the briefest twinge of embarrassment that he might guess how the contact affected her. But there was no chance for embarrassment to take root. Not when Tess was having the time of her life.
She was flying, tethered to the world only by the hold of the most attractive man she knew. When she’d seen him on horseback, she’d thought him in his element. But that was before she’d seen him on a dance floor. His body worked in perfect choreography with hers, their inherent rhythm superseding the notes produced by the band. They moved in a pulse and tempo no longer dictated by the music, and she never wanted to stop. Her lungs burned as they spun faster, the need to catch her breath secondary to the harmony of two sublimely attuned bodies completing one motion.
When the song stopped, Nick led her in one last spin for good measure, then dipped her dramatically. Years of accumulated skill allowed her to bend nearly to the floor without overbalancing them. Spontaneous applause surrounded them, and Tess straightened. She’d never been intimidated by performing in front of an audience but suddenly she felt an unfamiliar stab of shyness. Probably because what she and Nick had just publicly shared felt far more intimate than simple dancing, as if they’d done something illicit in front of their neighbors.
Easily a dozen people were staring at them—including Farrah Landon, whose eyes were wide. It was commonplace to see Wyatt or Kevin Calhoun cut a rug with a date but watching Nick masterfully navigate the dance floor was a rare sight. Tess had never needed to offer him advice about women or drag him to the mall in the next county. All it had taken was three minutes and an up-tempo song.
“Plan B, huh?” She forced herself to move away from him, breathing hard. “More like your secret weapon.”
Chapter Eight
Nick tried to focus on what Tess had just said to him, but he couldn’t think. Liar. He was thinking plenty—about the feel of Tess’s lush body, the temptation of what her mouth might taste like, the desire to sink into her. He was shell-shocked, watching her mouth move but not really hearing her words over the dull roar in his ears. What were the odds she’d just said, “Take me, Nick”?
He cleared his throat. “Wh-what?”
“I said, why didn’t you tell me you could dance like that?”
“I don’t. Usually.” Not like that.
He knew how to dance. With all the town festivals and outdoor concerts, it was difficult to grow up here without learning the fundamentals, plus Erin had given all three of her boys some pointers. But he’d wondered if he would be out of practice.
Instead, everything he’d ever known had come rushing back to him the moment Tess stepped into his arms...along with a few things he wasn’t sure he’d known in the first place. She was living inspiration, motivation for a man to do his level best.
They returned to their table. Neither of them showed any interest in their food, but they both gulped down glasses of water. Nick flagged down the waiter to request more.
The waiter smiled at Tess. “Bravo! I feel like I should ask you for your autographs after that performance.”
Tess ducked her head. “Just letting off some steam.”
Nick bit his tongue, battling back suggestions of other ways they could release some steam if she was interested. Was she interested? Tess was so naturally outgoing and friendly that a man with limited dating experience might misread her. Had he imagined the sudden huskiness of her voice earlier when she’d said kissing him wouldn’t be a hardship? He’d put himself on the line by asking if that meant she wanted to kiss him.
It’s crossed my mind.
That wasn’t specifically a yes, but it sure wasn’t a denial. He cast an involuntary glance at Farrah Landon, recalling just why Tess had invited him out tonight. Catching his eye, Farrah gave him a coy little finger wave that left him bemused.
It was difficult to recall why he’d felt so drawn to Farrah. Nostalgia, combined with their bond as two single parents who had survived divorce and were each raising daughters? He’d asked Tess tonight for specific qualities she would require in a relationship. Why had he never thought to ask himself that question? Hell, Bailey probably had a clearer idea of who he should date than he did.
Which brought him back to Tess.
He turned his gaze back to her, finding her expression shadowed. “Everything okay?”
“Long day,” she said weakly. “I was at the studio all day, now this.”
He felt his disappointment clear to the pit of his stomach. “So no chance of my talking you into another dance?”
“Actually, I think I’d rather leave now, unless you want to stay for dessert.” She rallied, flashing him a smile. “But don’t worry. I think we already accomplished our goal in coming here tonight.”
Nick didn’t answer. He wasn’t sure how to explain that they were no longer working toward the same goal.
* * *
I AM HAPPY FOR my friend. I am truly and genuinely happy for my friend. Staring out the passenger window even though it was too dark to see the Texas landscape, Tess grappled with déjà vu. Why did it seem as if lately she’d had to give herself these pep talks often, as if she had to compel herself to be glad for others’ good fortune? Was she becoming bitter and jealous? Just because everyone was pairing up as decisively as the animals boarding Noah’s Ark and she was standing out in the flood with a pair of flippers and a snorkel...
Get a grip, Fitzpatrick. No one likes a whiner.
She turned toward Nick, forcing cheer into her voice the same way she’d doggedly forced her hips into those old jeans to go riding. “In case I forgot to say so earlier, I had fun tonight. Did you see the way Farrah was looking at you when we left the dance floor? She wasn’t the only one, either.”
“That’s...great.”
Wow, even she had sounded more convincing than that. “What’s wrong? You know I’m serious about Farrah seeming interested, right?”
“I know. You mean what you say.”
“And that’s what you wanted, isn’t it? To break the ice, build up to finally asking her out after all these years?” She held her breath, wondering how she’d react if he said no, that he’d been wrong.
I was a fool, Tess, for thinking I wanted a lissome blonde with parenting experience and a hot car. I’d much rather be with a round redhead who has madly untamed curls and a tendency to act without thinking. Yeah. She could just imagine what her lon
g-suffering patrician mother would have to say about that flight of fancy.
“Don’t think I’m ungrateful for all the help you’ve given me,” he said a few seconds later. “I’m glad she noticed me. It just occurs to me that liking the way I dance isn’t a basis for anything real. I should be more analytical about this, like you.”
“Me?”
“You were very insightful when you talked about the qualities you consider important.”
Her innate sense of honesty forced her to point out, “Those were traits I came up with spur of the moment. Subconsciously, you probably have a list like that, too. Even if you’ve never itemized it, you have an idea of what’s important to you and who you like.”
He was quiet as they pulled into her neighborhood. Was he having second thoughts about his feelings for Farrah? Or was he just psyching himself out? After all, he’d had a lot of time to build her up in his mind as his Dream Girl. He’d said himself the first time he spoke with Tess on the phone that Farrah might be aiming too high.
