“I, uh...”
“Is there something wrong?”
“Um...” He took a step back. “I didn’t think you were bein’ serious. About the dance.”
“Of course I was. I love to dance.” And in much the same way Jasper had led Erma out on the dance floor, Harper took his hand and gave it a slight tug.
Not wanting to look like he was being dragged away, he walked beside her. “Celebration” was playing, and Harper lifted up her arms and started to dance.
“I’m not a great dancer,” he said, moving his feet from side to side in what he hoped was some kind of rhythm. He suspected he looked more like a bull hoofing on a hot plate, though. At least he wasn’t stepping on her toes. Maybe he should have taken off his shoes, too, but it was too late for that.
She took his hands, and they both moved their arms back and forth like they were playing a crooked game of London Bridge. Then the song switched to one with a slower tempo. Gratefully, he started to release her hands and go back to the punch table where he belonged. But in one smooth move she placed his hands on her slim waist, moved closer to him, and put her hands on his shoulders.
Wow.
“I can’t thank you enough for bailing me out today,” she said, the music low enough that he could hear her clearly. “I owe you one.”
Ah. That was the reason she asked him to dance. “Just doin’ my job,” he said. “You don’t owe me anythin’.”
“I figured you’d say something like that.” She smiled, rested her wrists on his shoulders near his neck. “Thanks again anyway.”
The soft music played in the background, and they stopped talking. He breathed in her perfume, a heady scent he hadn’t noticed when he picked her up earlier. He was noticing it now, along with how his hands almost spanned her waist and the soft, silky feel of the fabric of her tight dress.Nice. Very nice.Now all he had to do was not step on her—
“Ow!”
“Sorry!” He jumped back, dropping his hands. “Are you okay?”
“I think so.” But when she stood on both feet she winced.
Oops. He’d been so focused on how good she felt in his arms that he hadn’t paid attention to his clumsy feet. What if he’d broken her foot?
Without thinking, he swept her up into his arms.
“Rusty, what are you doing?”
He didn’t answer as he took her outside the gym to one of the folding chairs in the hallway and set her down gently. Then he knelt in front of her. “Which foot is it?”
“I’m fine, really...”
Rusty looked up at her. “Are you sure? I can get some ice for it.”
She held up her left foot in front of him, wiggling her toes, the nails polished white.
“See? I’ll live.”
He leaned back, breathing out a sigh of relief. “This is why I don’t dance. I always step on someone’s toes. Or feet. Mostly both.”
“You just got my big toe.” She put her foot down and grinned. “I appreciate the chivalry, though. It’s not every day a girl gets whisked away in a man’s arms.”
Now that he knew he hadn’t damaged her, he felt his cheeks redden. “Sorry. That was a bit much, huh?”
“A bit.” But she was still smiling. Then she leaned over and ruffled his hair.
The gesture was an innocent one, but his mouth felt like the Sahara again.Time to lay off the punch.
Harper stood up. “Thanks for the dance, Rusty. It was fun.” She gave him a little wave and walked back into the gym, her limp barely noticeable.
Slowly he rose, still floored by what had just happened. He’d never literally picked up a woman in his life. He’d never gone completely cottonmouthed with one, either, and that included all of the dates he’d been on. Not that he’d had a lot of them. But none of those women had been as nice as Harper. And he had to be honest—they weren’t as beautiful either. They were pretty, though. He thought most women were, in their own way. And he was never one to be hung up on looks anyway. But Harper was an absolute knockout.
