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“I can behave.”
“Maybe I can’t.” She looked at his mouth.
She was rewarded with the jump of his jaw muscle. “I say we make this evening more interesting.”
She shook her head again.
“Me or Dean,” Spencer said. “He’s coming this way.”
“Fine,” she said, letting him lead her onto the dance floor. Tatum grinned at the blinking reindeer nose before he held her in a loose embrace.
“I’d hold you closer, but I wouldn’t want to short out,” he said.
She giggled, gasping as he spun her around. She had no idea he could dance. High school dances had been an excuse to hop around or slow dance, nothing like this. But he knew what he was doing. While she was hanging on and trying to keep up.
“Take up ballroom dancing?” she asked, stunned.
“A mom-required event.” His gaze fell to her mouth. “Just hold on to me.”
Her insides quivered. “I am.”
The song blurred into another, a slow rendition of “What Child Is This?” It was a perfect slow dance song, the perfect excuse for him to pull her closer. “You might short out,” she murmured, all too aware of the effect his nearness was having on her. And she knew what she was doing to him too.
A quick assessment told her there weren’t many couples on the dance floor.
“It’s fine.” His voice was rough, pulling her eyes back to him.
“No, it’s not,” she whispered even as his fingers splayed across her back, his palm pulling her close.
“We’re just dancing,” he assured her.
She forced her gaze down, the flicker of his sweater lights making her grin. Maybe she was taking this a little too seriously. Maybe his response to her wasn’t visible.
“I admit, I like holding you,” he murmured softly. “You feel good.”
“Your lightbulb is poking me in the stomach,” she lied, adding, “It’s hot.” It wasn’t, but she was getting there.
He eased his hold on her. “My lightbulb, huh?”
She giggled. “Yes, your lightbulb.”
“It’s been called a lot of things, but...”
It took her a while to stop laughing. By then the music was over and he was leading her to their table. Lucy squeezed over so they could share a chair.
“Almost sweater time,” Jared said, pointing at Dean and Zach by the steps leading to the stage.
“Time to kick some butt.” Spencer was all smiles as he headed to the stage.
She tried not to stare at his ass. Horrible sweater aside, his black trousers made up for it.
“I talked to the one real-estate office in town and a dentist, Dr. Maria Klein.” Cady slid two cards across the table to her. “Here. They’d love to speak to you about becoming their accountant. And Mrs. Monroe.” Cady touched Tatum’s hand, then pointed out the black-haired matron. “She said she’d be happy to use you. She owns a shop on the main square selling...” She looked at Patton.
“Kitchen stuff.” He shrugged.
“Which you should know, Cady dear, since the two of you should have registered there already. It went out in the invitations.” Mrs. Ryan sighed. “You two.”
Cady grinned at her future mother-in-law. “I’ll drag him there tomorrow.”
