“Bold move,” Jax said. “Head and shoulder movements count as dancing too, so you can’t be doing any of this.” He swayed his shoulders and bobbed his head from side to side.
“Quit making up these bullshit rules so I can beat you at your own made-up game.” I stepped closer to him, my hand on my hip.
“Andshe’s a trash-talker. I like it.” He closed the space between us in one stride, standing so close that his warmth could have melted me like a forgotten ice cube on the floor. “We’ll see if you’re still this cocky after I make you dance to three songs in a row. First, we need to determine a prize.”
I raised my brows at him. “Besides bragging rights?”
“Obviously. I’m going to need something to show off my victory.”
“Fine. What do you want?”
“I want what every man wants.” He leaned into me, lightly pushing me against the counter.
My breath caught in my throat and every nerve in my body tingled.
He placed one hand beside me, bracing himself as the other reached behind me and grabbed the clear canister off the counter containing one cookie. “The last snickerdoodle.”
“Deal.” I squared my shoulders, tilting my face up to his in what I hoped was a challenging stare andnotlike I wanted to devour him like a snickerdoodle. Because that thoughtdefinitelyhadn’t crossed my mind more than half a dozen times.
I moved around him to start chopping the onions and garlic as his first pick began to play. He danced beside me, bouncing his head wildly like he was inNight At The Roxbury.
I shook my head. “Your first choice is ‘Party In The U.S.A.?’ Really?”
“What?” Jax started doing the sprinkler, and I choked on a giggle. “This is a classic.”
I added some olive oil to the skillet on the stove and leaned against the counter, overjoyed to have a front-row seat to this show.
He pouted as the song ended, handing me his phone. “Your turn.”
I quickly searched for my selection as I started saute´ing the fragrant vegetables. The opening notes to “Ice Ice Baby” began to play, and I spun around, rapping into my spatula. He gritted his teeth and gripped the counter trying to keep himself from dancing, but by the time I got to the chorus his shoulders had started to rock.
“Shit.” He laughed. “Beginner’s luck.” He took his phone back while I added the tomato sauce and my signature blend of spices to the skillet. I filled a pot with water, placing it on the stove to boil as the opening notes to “Thriller” began to play.
“That’s cold.You already know I love this song.”I poked him in the chest. “No one can resist the siren call of the King of Pop.”
Jax howled along to the creepy background sounds of werewolves, and once the music began, I shimmied to the left, clapping my hands above my head. When I repeated the motion to the right, he joined in. I paused long enough to set the pasta sauce to simmer, but I bounced right back into place when the chorus started.
“You want to play dirty?” I asked, snatching the phone from his grasp. “We can do that.” I smirked and hit play on “Can’t Touch This.” I started doing a terrible rendition of the running man, and Jax couldn’t stop himself from dancing with me.
“Dammit.” Jax laughed while I dropped the noodles into the boiling pot of water. “I’ve got to make this next one count.”
“Do your worst,” I said, checking on the sauce.
“Oh, I will.” He grabbed the phone, making his selection, and “Walk This Way” started to play.
I groaned. “You’re onto me and my love for Steven Tyler.” I was dancing before the first verse kicked in. “Dinner’s almost done, and I still need to give you my last pick since you’re going to lose and all.”
“I could still win this.” He grinned wildly.
“Best you can hope for is a tie, but that’s not going to happen.” He handed me the phone, and I located my last song. “I’m about to pull out the big guns. Are you ready?”
“I was born ready.”
I made a dramatic show of pressing play, and the sounds of “(I’ve Had) The Time Of My Life” filled the air.
Jax threw his hands up in defeat. “Are you kidding me? I wanted tobePatrick Swayze when I was a kid.” He rolled his hips, giving me his best Swayze impression.
“Victory!” I shouted, taking a triumphant lap around the kitchen and back to the stove. I drained the spaghetti and combined it with the sauce. When I turned to face Jax, he was dancing up to me as though he were reeling me in on a fishing pole. I laughed so hard my sides hurt when he pulled me into him and twirled me around. “Come on. Dinner’s ready.” I attempted to pry myself out of his grasp, but he spun me back into his arms.
