Sniper, Anna, and I take a seat at a table near the dance floor. Anna was right, this isn’t a dressy dance, and I wish I would have fought her on making me wear this. I’d feel so much better in my jeans. “I’m going to go get us all a drink.” She stands and scurries off toward the bar.
“You two don’t seem to be getting along too well, lately,” Sniper mentions.
“Have we ever gotten along?” I counter, knowing he’s speaking about George. My gaze moves to find him, and I spot him at the bar, laughing with a guy he’s speaking with.
Sniper’s lips form in to a sad sort of smile before he opens his mouth to respond but Anna appears with our drinks, stopping him. “Sniper, I love this song,” she tells him, obviously hinting she wants to dance. He takes his beer from her and draws a long swig before setting it down, taking her hand, and leading her to the dance floor. “I’d love to dance with the most beautiful woman here,” he tells her.
The song is pretty upbeat, and the two dance together amazingly. They laugh as he twirls her, and while I smile, my heart aches a little. Sometimes I don’t realize how badly I need something until I see someone else with it. I want to be happy and basking in the glow of early love; that prelude to the delicious things to come. I haven’t thought much about it over the past six years; I mean, not really. I’ve been lonely, but it never occurred to me I craved that kind of relationship; mostly because I truly believe no one could deal with me and my gift. My own parents sent me away, so why would any man want to burden himself with me? So I settled into a life where love didn’t exist. At least not until the McDermott brothers came in to my life. Ike has certainly made an impression, which makes me even more pathetic. I can’t have a relationship with him, so why am I allowing myself to even imagine it? Then there’s George. Our relationship to date has been so hot and cold, I’m not sure what to make of it. No matter what, George has some changes to make, and they’re deal breaker changes. I chance a glance at him and see he’s still standing at the bar, facing the back. Misty approaches and rests a hand on his shoulder. I make a gagging motion, not thinking anyone might be watching.
“What’s a pretty girl like you doing sitting over here by yourself?” a voice asks, and when I look up, I see a very tall man with wide, broad shoulders and a beard. He looks like he’s maybe thirty or so, attractive in a rugged and country kind of way. Before I can respond, he takes the seat next to me and scoots closer.
“You must be the new girl in town everyone keeps talking about,” he says, before sipping the bottled beer in his hand.
“I didn’t realize I was gossip worthy,” I reply.
“A beautiful woman shows up and you can be sure the women are talking smack, and the men around here are eager to check you out.”
“Is that so?” I chuckle, slightly humored by his bluntness. A smile sneaks across his face, and I can’t help smiling, too. Although I find him attractive, I wouldn’t say I’m attracted to him. I can admit, however—sad and pathetic as I am for feeling it—I like that he’s flirting with me. Sometimes it’s the little things. Sometimes a woman just needs a man to give her attention so she knows she’s attention worthy.
“You’re serving over at Ike and George’s, right?”
“Wow. I guess everyone does have the 4–1-1 on me, huh?”
“Small town, small minds. What else is there to do around here?” he asks.
“Apparently, dancing is an option.” That feeling of warmth spreads across my back, and I get the sense someone is watching me. Darting my eyes to the bar, I see George watching my interaction with the man before me. His mouth is set in a hard, flat line and he’s almost glaring. Misty follows his line of sight and her brows touch her hairline when she realizes he’s looking at me.
“Well then,” the stranger stands, chugging the last few sips of his beer and setting the bottle down. “May I have this dance?”
My gaze moves from George to the handsome man before me. Chugging a few sips of my own beer—liquid courage in a bottle—I take his hand and let him lead me onto the dance floor. We pass by Sniper and Anna on the way and they stop to watch us before glancing at one another. Another upbeat song starts playing and without discussion, my dance partner and I fall into a two-step and we’re nailing it. He’s a great dancer, and I’m laughing the entire time, not remembering the last time I danced like this; so carefree.
When the song ends, a slow one comes on and he pulls me to him, taking my arms and draping them over his shoulders, putting his hands at my waist, his fingers applying gentle pressure. This is a little more intimate than I’d like, but I don’t want to offend him so I try to make conversation, but he starts to speak first.