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When she opened them, it was to find Cruz looking at her more bemused. Speculative.

Time to regroup. “And that, ladies, is why I agreed to marry the knucklehead. He’s a man of few words except when it really counts. And when he does, every word has meaning.”

They all laughed but she felt Cruz’s gaze steady on her.

“Then there’s the fact his eyes positively burn whenever they settle on you,” Bev said next to her. “It doesn’t take a lot of words for a man to truly express how he feels about a woman, and I’d say your man here wouldn’t need a lot of them when he’s staring at you in that way. Like he’s going to incinerate you with that smolder.” The woman waved her hand as if her face were on fire and everyone laughed.

But the words gave Payton a moment’s pause. Was that true? Did he look at her, stare at her, like he really wanted her that way? No. Not anymore. Not since that first meeting, when there had been possibilities.

These people were only seeing what they wanted to see.

She laughed with everyone else but knew her cheeks were warm.

“Can anyone blame me?” Cruz’s hand settled on hers resting on the table, and her entire body tensed at the touch.

She found the courage to raise her gaze to his. He did seem to be looking at her exactly as they all described—with need. Desire. But was it real? Or an act to appease them?

It didn’t matter. Because she knew that over the course of the last few minutes, both of them lost in the events of that first night, something had irrevocably changed between them.

Something that had her breathing coming shorter and shallower. Wanting more than the touch of his hand resting on hers.

The first jarring beats of a mariachi band pulled her from her thoughts and all eyes turned to the troupe who had arrived at their table.

Cruz hadn’t taken his hand off hers. He leaned over, his breath a whisper at her ear. “Wouldn’t want to look like anything less than a happy couple. How’m I doing?”

She swallowed and bobbed her head, not daring to look into those eyes in case he could read her mind.

“Just fine.”

Cruz sucked in the night air as they left the restaurant and walked out onto the sidewalk, Payton at his side as they joined the other revelers. Their troupe of dancer friends had left them at the door so they could check in for the night’s festivities, and now it was just the two of them.

He took in a deep breath, the cool air feeling fresh and sharp in his lungs. He needed to clear his head, having consumed four shots of tequila already. More than his limit, but at the time, the flavor and taste a welcome diversion from the feeling of having Payton nestled under his arm while they kept up the pretense of engaged lovers.

Payton was silent next to him, her steps a little less certain, and he slowed his pace to hers. They needed to keep better track of their alcohol intake if they were going to keep their heads.

He thought about what Payton had said earlier, while recounting their first meeting. He’d been certain that she’d never given him a second thought that night, not with the way she’d rushed out of the shop so fast, before he could even catch her name.

But it hadn’t stopped him from thinking about her. He’d meant what he said about wanting to find her that night. He’d already had a great line in mind to use to finagle her details from the cashier.

All this time, he’d concluded he’d imagined their connection. But he’d been wrong. There had been a moment there, a moment when they both had the opportunity for a different start. A different relationship. Until he’d opened his big mouth and not just insulted her but sealed the terms of a different type of relationship. One full of mistrust and contention.

What would have happened if it had gone differently?

They’d never know, but he did know one thing. He owed her an apology.

“Payton, about that night. What I said at the party? I didn’t know you and my comment was completely out of line. Maybe it was some lingering resentment I still had for Brad—I don’t know. But I am sorry.”

She looked up at him, her eyes wide and shining, not holding any indication of resentment. “I accept. And I’m sorry for clobbering you with that vase.”

He laughed. “I earned that.”

“Glad to see we agree on something.” The sound of music from up ahead began to play, and Payton hurried her steps. He reached out, grabbing her hand so as not to lose her in the burgeoning crowd. It felt nice. It seemed to fit perfectly. She glanced back at him, a knowing glint in her eye, but didn’t slow down, instead cutting through the crowds.

They reached the stage set up near the gazebo, already teeming with people, some dancing to the music that filled the warm night air. Payton seemed entranced by everything around her, smiling and laughing, throwing her head back. Her enjoyment was infectious, and he couldn’t wipe the stupid grin off his own face. It had to be the tequila.

At one point, Payton paused and stared up at the night sky. He followed her gaze. “I was just trying to see the stars.”

He noticed the way the light reflected off her hair, shining, and he wanted to touch it. He found his voice instead. “Going to have to get farther away from the lights to see them.”

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