“Maybe we should add delusional to the mix, too. I ain’t fucking staring.” He pointed the bottle in her direction. “And if I am, it’s because you’re too damn loud.”
As Bishop and Lennox bickered, I raised my glass and savored the liquid courage as it slid down my throat. Couples turned on the dance floor, whipping around to a catchy beat. I swayed in my seat, humming to the music.
Lincoln stepped closer, and I leaned into the warmth of his body without thinking. We were magnets, drawn together by some force entirely larger than ourselves.
“You sure are wiggling in your seat,” Lincoln said, flitting his gaze along my body.
I shrugged. “I like to dance.”
He raised a brow. “This is considered dancing? Look, I know I’m old, but?—”
“No, but it scratches the itch,” I laughed. “I mean, haven’t you gotten the urge to just move before? Like when a song comes on that’s so good you just can’t help yourself?”
Lincoln nodded. “Yeah, I suppose so.” His eyes drifted to the dance floor. “Would you want to dance, Josie?”
“I don’t have anyone?—”
“You have me,” he said. It was simple, matter-of-fact, like it was the most natural thing in the world. I had him, and he had me, and nothing else mattered.
Except, that wasn’t the truth at all.
“Well, what do you say?” He held out his hand, waiting for meto take it. I stared down at it, knowing my decision would have consequences.
“She says yes,” Lennox called, but Cleo smacked her arm. I couldn’t make out their hushed whispers because I focused only on Lincoln’s hand.
The rough and rugged hand that had once caressed my body so tenderly and full of love. The hand that had held my own and brought me pleasure I’d never known.
“Alright,” I whispered, looking up into his deep brown eyes. “I’ll dance with you.”
lincoln
. . .
After a yearof wondering if I’d imagined the crazy connection I shared with Josie Hayes, I had my answer.
There was no way in hell the stupid, fluttery feeling I got in the pit of my stomach was wrong. Not as she put her hand in mine and let me guide her to the dance floor.
The music was upbeat, the perfect tune to twirl the girl in my arms round and round until she had no choice but to lean on me for support. Lennox was working her charm on a cowboy at the next table, and he was so lost in her forward nature that he immediately swept her away. Bishop watched the younger Hayes sister with narrowed eyes until he pulled Cleo out after us, despite her protests.
“You okay if I touch you here?” I asked, placing my hand on her lower back. My thumb met her bare skin, soft and creamy. It took everything I had not to throw her over my shoulder and lock her in my truck, but I kept myself rooted to the spot.
Josie sucked in a small breath at the contact but nodded. “Yeah, of course. We’re just dancing,” she said, though it wasn’t with her typical confidence. “Do you know how to dance?”
“Do you think I would’ve asked you if I didn’t?” I gave her a little twirl, watching her eyes light up as she returned to me. “Give me some credit, darlin’.”
She stood a little straighter, a little smile on her face. “Alright, then, cowboy. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
“That’ll be a little hard,” I admitted. “This isn’t really the song to demonstrate the depth of my talent.”
“No, but you can consider this a warmup. We’ll figure the rest out later.”
I knew she was talking about the dancing, but it felt like more. It felt like she was talking about us—how things may have been complicated now, but maybe they didn’t have to be.
By the time we were halfway into the first song, we were all smiles. Bishop knocked into us several times, giggling and laughing when the bumbling young thing Lennox had pulled kept stepping on her feet.
“Oof, that’s gotta fucking hurt,” I laughed softly into Josie’s ear. “He’s stomping on her toes like he’s got something to prove.”
“At least it won’t just be due to the brand-new boots I told her not to wear,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t think she can feel much with all the liquor flowing through her system right now, though.”
