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Hannah liked the sound of that, especially since there was no way she could dance another second, but she wasn’t ready to say good night to Blake, either.
“I just have to let Nicki know, and then I’ll be good to go.”
“Okay, I’ll wait right here.”
Hannah limped back out to the dance floor, where she found Nicki dirty dancing with another guy.
“Hey, Blake is going to take me home,” Hannah said.
“The jerk? I thought we were over him.” Nicki never broke rhythm.
“No, we are not. Are you going to be okay?”
Nicki laughed as the guy did something to her neck. “Oh, yeah, I’m good. You go and have fun. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
Hannah turned and hobbled back to Blake, the strap of her clutch over her shoulder and her shoes in her hand.
“Did you check your raffle ticket?” Blake asked.
“No, I never win anything.”
“Where is it?”
She opened her purse and handed it to him. Blake walked over to the winner’s board with her raffle ticket and he whooped. “Check it out, oh ye of little faith. You’re a winner.”
Hannah couldn’t believe it. She hadn’t even bought any extras.
“What did I win?”
“Let’s go see.” He took her free hand and led her over to the table, where a pretty blonde and a red-haired woman sat talking, bags stacked behind them.
“Hey, Violet, Dani,” Blake said warmly. “We have a winner.”
The redhead smiled warmly at her, and then her gaze dropped to Blake’s hand clasped with hers, and her eyes widened.
“Blake, what’s our winner’s name?”
“Hannah.”
The redhead turned, checking bag numbers, and when she found what she was looking for, handed it to Blake, since Hannah’s hands were full. “Here you go. The guys at the next table will give you your goody bag. Thank you for coming.”
“Thank you,” Hannah said.
Blake led her away from the curious stares of the two women, and they stopped off where Blake’s friends Tyler and Oliver had been assigned.
“Give her the gift bag so we can get the hell out of here,” Blake said.
“Hello, again, Hannah. You look beautiful,” Tyler said.
“Thank you. Can I have my bag please”—she dropped her voice to a playful stage whisper—“before my ride gets too impatient?”
Oliver laughed. “He can wait.”
“It’s not too late to screw up that pretty face of yours, Martinez.” Blake’s voice didn’t hold any real bite, and when Hannah gave him a stern look, he was grinning.
Hannah squeezed his hand. “Be nice.”
