“He’s not grumpy,” I defend, a surprised laugh startling me. Because while he isn’t grumpy, he can be serious. Even stern.
I sort of like it.
I like a lot of other things too.
Hours and hours of dancing have given me an up-close and personal view of his mouth. And plenty of time to imagine kissing him. Theoretically, I’m very much in favor of it.
And his hands. When his hands are on me—wrapped around my hands or settled on my hips or holding my waist—I feel… cocooned. Like I’m protected by a sturdy fortress.
It’s the letting go part that I really don’t like. When he lets go, it’s like I get this cold shock.
Sally gives me an arch look. “He seemed pretty grumpy when he accused you of doing drugs.”
“That was before we got to know each other.” Still, I feel color rise in my cheeks. “And he apologized for that.”
Boy, did he ever.
I think people who apologize are in short supply in this world. At least those who apologize and really mean it. Those who don’t qualify an apology with abutor anif.
I’m sorry I hit you with my car, but you shouldn't have been crossing the street.
I’m sorry if what I said hurt your feelings.
I’m sorry, butis just a defensive smoke screen to put blame somewhere else andI’m sorry ifmeans they aren’t really sorry. They’re only sorry under certain conditions that have to do with something else, not their actions.
But Beau Landry’s apology that first night was seriously good. Probably the best apology anyone’s ever given me.
Offending you hurts me… Please accept my apology.
I mean, after that, how could I not? Even the look in his eyes made me soften. I could see hurt in them. Hurt for hurting me.
Sally makes a face. “I almost never see him smile.”
“You almost never stop looking at Ramon,” I quip. Seriously, the two of them are in a world apart during dance class. But then again, I might be in my own world then too.
“Hesmiles,”I say, grinning in thought. Because he does smile. His smiles are just rare. And wonderful.
She snorts a laugh. “If you say so.”
I don’t tell her that I’m an expert on Beau’s smile after spending so much time staring at his mouth. Instead, I attack her motives.
“So, are you trying to, oh, I don’t know… warn me away from a guy?” I ask pointedly.
She jolts, and her gaze snaps back to mine. My question has caught her off guard. “Um… Uh…Noooo.”
I nod. “Right, because that would make you a total hypocrite.” I’m rubbing her face in it, but even as I do, I know Sally is just looking out for me. Just like I do for her.
“Exactly. Exactly.” She nods back, harder and more emphatically. “You won’t get any hypocrisy from me. You go on your hike with Mr. Crabby Ass and enjoy every minute of it.”
“I will,” I say, accepting her blessing. “But just to be clear, it’s just a hike. Not a weekend getaway. Not even a date.”
I’m absolutely clear on this. There was nothing skeezy about his invite. I’m pretty sure he just felt sorry for me because I can’t drive. And my two best friends are ditching me to have a Bacchanalian feast of sex and daiquiris in the French Quarter all weekend.
And I have no other friends here.
Does that mean Beau and I are friends now?The thought warms my belly like a sip of whiskey.
Friends with Beau would be nice. And maybe I’ll be able to think of him in more friendly terms while we’re hiking today. Unlike dance class, there won’t be any touching, and being in the woods should be safe territory since it’ll mask his manly, verdant, rain shower scent.
