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Kiernan topped off our wineglasses with the bottle of rosé provided at each table. “Are we going to stay and dance for a bit?”
“Do you want to?” I leaned closer to him to be heard over the music. The thrill rushing through my body as he tipped his head closer wasn’t expected. “You’ve fulfilled your part of the bargain. It’s been a blissful night of not being told about the single young men in my aunts’ lives.”
His grin held me rapt as he handed me my glass. That dimple wasn’t adorable, it was devastating. Our fingertips touched during the exchange and tingles spread up my arm.
“I’ve never been one to turn down slow dancing with a pretty woman,” he drawled.
Kiernan was a flirt. I knew that about him. But I wanted to preen at his words. “So you don’t turn down free food or drinks, and you don’t turn down dancing.”
“What can I say? I’m a guy who likes to have a good time.”
Sudden insecurity dogged me. “Are you? Having a good time? Weddings can be cringeworthy.”
“Small-town weddings are never cringeworthy unless the groom has dated any family member of the bride or vice versa.”
Laughter sputtered out of me. “You have experience with that?”
“A buddy from high school. Dated a few of the bride’s cousins, and let me tell you, that reception was eventful.”
“My most interesting one was honestly Dawson and Bristol’s.”
He twisted in his seat until his long legs bracketed mine. “Really? Did something happen that I missed?”
One of my knees was almost touching his. “No, just that everyone thought I was going to object when that part came. People thought since I had dated Dawson, I would be upset with Bristol. I don’t think anyone believed we were genuinely friends until I stood up as her maid of honor.”
His gaze turned assessing. “I know you said there wasn’t much between you and Dawson, but you weren’t upset at all?”
I waved it off. “Absolutely not. He’s a friend, nothing more. And I will cut him if he hurts her.” His laugh was deep and magnetic. I’d never dwelled that much on a guy’s laugh, but I didn’t think I’d tire of hearing Kiernan’s. “I needed a best friend before I needed a guy.” I shrugged. “I have a best friend now and…”
A twangy country song with a good beat started to play. He stood and held his hand out. “And now you have a friend who can take you for a few spins on the dance floor.”
My heart faltered and started a slow sink to my toes. Somehow, I managed to keep my smile in place. I came here tonight knowing we were friends, but to be friend-zoned when this wasn’t a date stung. I didn’t have a lot of pride regarding my dating life, not after all the floundering attempts, but damn. Give a girl a break—and a good fuck.
The last part came unbidden as I lurched out of my chair. Kiernan did a double take like he was worried I’d end up face-first on the floor with my sundress over my ass. With the way my luck was going tonight, I wouldn’t count it out.
He spun me into his arms like he’d done it a million times, and he probably had. I was just another dance partner, and it meant nothing.
Did I want it to mean more? Someday, yes, but with Kiernan? I hadn’t given him a second thought until… until I realized I might’ve overlooked someone who was right in front of me the whole time. Until I knew he wasn’t an option because he was moving in a couple of weeks.
His strong arms were around me, my hand in his and my heart rate slowly crept up, having nothing to do with the easy two-step we were doing among other couples. He might be right in front of me, but I’d been in front of him the whole time too. And he hadn’t made a move for a reason.
We edged by my aunt Addy and her husband Luke. She beamed at us. “I knew you two would work together like bread and butter as soon as you walked into the church.”
Kiernan’s deep chuckle vibrated into me, the energy stoking the heat burning my face. He tipped his head toward them. “She makes this old klutz look smooth.”
His humility was sorely misplaced. “Don’t let him fool you—he’s been sweeping girls off their feet in King’s Creek since he crossed city limits.”
They laughed and twirled away. Kiernan’s bemused expression was on me, a line crossing his brow. “You think I’m a player?”
Had I insulted him? “I didn’t mean it like that. You’ve been at every street dance I’ve been to, and I think one time I was working when—oh, crap. Confidentiality violation.” The story almost spilled out. He was easy to talk to.
The furrow deepened. “Debra Pendry. We were doing the jitterbug, and her heel busted midtwirl. She broke her damn ankle that night. She almost didn’t go to the ER, but I finally persuaded her.”
I nodded. “She’s not the first to come into work talking about your dancing skills.”
“Any other skills they mention?”
I pretended to think. “Nothing noteworthy.”
