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I noticed the group of people gathered across from our table separate, and the woman who was pushing her way through jerked to a stop. Alma was right behind her, slamming into the woman’s back.
“What the he—?” she started, then those honeyed amber eyes came to me and went wide. “Well, hey there, Freckles. Fancy meeting you here.”
She shook off the surprise and glared as she and the rest of her crew joined us at the table.Theirtable. The one I’d just horned in on. And as soon as I got a good look at her, I didn’t regret it one single bit.
Christ, she was beautiful. I thought so even when she was sick, but seeing her standing in front of me now, done up for a night out on the town with her girls, only drove that truth deeper.
Her jeans hugged her ass and thighs to perfection, showing off those curves that made my mouth water and my dick stir to life. The deep, wide V of her neckline showed more than it left to the imagination, and when she moved just right, I caught a flash of black lace hugging her breasts. I remembered those perfect little handfuls with such clarity, it felt like I’d had my hands and mouth on them only yesterday. How they fit so perfectly in my hand, how her dusky pink nipples would pinch up whenever she was aroused.
She really had the most perfect body. All woman.
The bootcut of her jeans trailed down to the high-heeled boot she walked in with the comfort and ease of a pair of tennis shoes. Like she was made to wear fuck-me heels. I couldn’t help imagining those heels digging into my ass as her long, strong legs wrapped around my waist, or scratching up my back as I threw her legs over my shoulders and feasted on her pussy.
Her eyes were done up in deep, smoky taupes and shimmery coppers, and her sinful mouth was painted the kind of red I dreamed to see rimmed around the base of my cock. There was only one tiny problem. She was wearing her makeup thick enough to cover all those little starbursts of freckles I loved so goddamn much. Back when we’d been together, all she wore was a bit of mascara and some lip gloss. But the woman standing in front of me was vamped out, a vixen beneath artfully applied makeup thatmyAlma would never have worn.
I wanted those freckles back.
She popped one hip out and planted her hands on the dip of her waist. “How did you know I was here?”
I feigned innocence, placing my hand on my chest. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. This is purely coincidence. I heard this place had live music and wanted to check it out. That’s all.”
Her cat eyes narrowed further as she plopped down in a seat across from me. “Bullshit,” she hissed as she snatched up a glass of clear, fizzy liquid and tossed it back.
The rest of her friends followed suit, and more introductions were made. I recognized Dani, and also met Layla, who was also a performer at Whiskey Dolls with Alma.
“It’s the truth,” I lied as a waitress in a shirt that readTap It Real Goodstopped at the table. “Buy you another drink?” I pointed at the empty glass she’d slammed onto the table. “As a matter of fact, next round’s on me.”
That seemed to go over well enough with Alma’s friends; they had no issue giving the waitress their order. Alma and I stood locked in a staring contest of wills until the woman finally got to her. “And for you?” she asked politely.
It took her a second, but finally she answered grudgingly. “Sparkling water with lime. Thanks.”
I ordered a beer and handed my credit card over. Once the waitress was gone, I leaned deeper across the table. “You look a hell of a lot better, Freckles. How are you feeling?”
She cleared her throat and looked down at the tabletop, dragging her finger through the ring of water left behind by the condensation on her empty glass. I didn’t miss the way Hardin and Layla were watching her closely, and I got the impression the two of them might have been filled in on my playing nursemaid while she’d been sick.
She cleared her throat awkwardly, her gaze darting between her friends. “I’m good. Thanks. For asking, and for, you know.”
“Good.” I smiled, it wasn’t the charming one I used to try and get my way or theaw-shucksgood ol’ boy grin the label had wanted me to use. It was a real, genuine smile. I was glad she was okay. I hated seeing her sick more than anything.
The song on the jukebox changed to a slower number, and I decided it was time to shoot my shot. Pushing out of my chair, I rounded the table and extended my hand down to her. “How about a dance?”
It was a risky move, I knew that. But I needed to start taking big risks if I was going to get her back.
Her gaze bounced between my hand and my face, her mouth gaping open like she had no clue what to say. The table around us had gone deathly quiet. It was almost as if they were holding their breaths, waiting for a response.
“What do you say, sweetheart? One quick spin around the floor. That’s all I’m asking.”
She hesitated before finally placing her hand in mine. My fingers snapped closed around hers, partly from the bolt of electricity that shot through me at the innocent touch, but also out of fear she would change her mind and pull away.
I could feel people staring as I pulled her to her feet and led her to the dance floor, but I didn’t pay them any mind. There was only one person who could hold my attention, and it was the woman whose delicate hand rested in mine, where it belonged. Where it had always belonged.
I turned to face her, giving her a little spin beneath my arm before pulling her into me, the twirl making her giggle before she placed her free hand on my shoulder. When those eyes came up to meet mine, everything else in the bar faded away. It was just me and her. Nothing else existed.
I looped an arm around her waist, holding her securely against me as I began leading her around the perimeter of the floor. The music continued, but I couldn’t hear it. It was as if nothing else existed on this planet but her. No sound but that of her breathing. No smell except her subtle floral perfume.
We flowed like water, falling in step together like we used to. So easy it was like breathing. One of our favorite pastimes had been dancing, and falling back into that was as simple as riding a bike. Looking at us, you would have thought no time had passed at all.
She looked down at my boots, a tiny smirk curling one side of her mouth. “You’re still pretty good at this,” she said in a teasing tone.
