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He rolls his eyes but reaches into his pocket and digs out some ones for me. Jake has my money. Noah knows I’m good for it.
He hands me a couple bills, and I snatch them up. “Thank you.”
Strolling off, I head for the music.
Jake stands at the bar, talking to some guy, and I still haven’t seen Kaleb since we got in here. I stop at the jukebox and look around for him. Kaleb has barely spared me a glance since he gave me the belt earlier tonight, but something about his present keeps gnawing at me, and I’m not sure why.
He made it. By hand. For me.
He knew my birthday was coming.
I love that each of them put some thought into what I might like, even though they really didn’t have to get me anything at all. It was nice opening up a gift I would buy for myself, instead of a lavish present that tries way too hard to put a price on impressing someone.
Kaleb put in hours of work, though. The thought of him in his workroom in the barn, quietly working, head hung over my belt, out there alone all that time… for me.
But then I shake my head.
I’m overanalyzing. He probably had that belt already made and laying around. He just grabbed it as he was leaving his room, and it probably does have some weirdo sexual undertone with all those notches, like Noah said.
I scroll the song selections, finally seeing something not country and put in a bill, dialing in the letter and number. “Do You Want to Touch Me There” by Joan Jett starts playing, and all of a sudden some cheers go off. I turn my head over my shoulder to see the bachelorette party holding up their arms and moving toward me, already dancing.
I smile, ready to move out of the way, but they start screaming the words, one of them taking my hand and pulling me in with them. I laugh, unsure of what to do.
I look around for my uncle or Noah to rescue me, but in a moment, I’m trapped and can’t see anyone. All of us crowd the small area, and I barely have room to move as everyone jumps, sways, and rocks out, the wooden floor underneath us taking a beating.
Others close their eyes, and after a few moments, I take a deep breath and do the same, letting the music and people feed me.
My head reels.
I’ve always been awkward with other women. Always. I’m either worried they’ll feel they have to hold my hand in social situations or aggravated because they do. I hate being an albatross around their necks or being treated like an ignorant little sister they need to take under their wing.
This isn’t like that, though. I just have to dance.
I sing along with the song, flip my hair, and move my body to the music, laughing with them and feeling the energy buzz on every inch of my skin. If I had to talk to these girls, it would be a challenge, but for now, I can enjoy the music.
Lifting up my arms, I bang my head to the lyrics, unashamed of going crazy, because so is everyone else, and I relax.
Finally, I relax.
Until I open my eyes.
Jake stands paused in the middle of raising his beer to his mouth, watching me at the bar. His lips are parted slightly, and he looks like he isn’t breathing. My heart drops into my stomach, and I slow for a moment, taking a mental inventory to make sure he’s not mad.
I’m not dancing with a local boy.
I’m not naked.
I came with three male relatives, so I’m not unarmed or unprotected.
He’s not angry, I don’t think. He’s just… watching me.
A flutter hits my stomach.
Shifting my gaze, I see Noah at the pool table with some buddies, taking a shot of something brown, his eyes immediately turning back over to me as if he’s been keeping an eye out the whole time. His gaze is soft, but his lips are tight.
A smile tugs at my mouth, but I don’t let it out.
The bride-to-be wraps an arm around my waist, and I hang my arm over another woman’s shoulder, and we sing and dance, but every smile I wear is for someone else. Everything I do I hope Jake sees, and every move I make I hope Noah is watching.
