Page 27 of Beehives and Broken Heroes

Allie shoved past Jo out of the stall. Cecilia and Maggie May were practically hunched over in their hysterics.

“Allie, think about this,” Jo pleaded. “Do you really want to make a scene on our birthday?”

Scene? They didn’t know what a scene was. She yanked the bathroom door open so hard, it slammed into the wall with a huge slap. She stepped into the hall, posture stiff, and marched toward the dance floor. If Tony hadn’t wanted a scene, he never would’ve shown up here, of all places, on her birthday, of all times. This had been an intentional move, and she’d make him live to regret it.

Allie tore out of the hall into the club and made eye contact with Tony across the room. He gave her a little smile, and all she could think about was wiping it right off his stupid face. Then, for the second time that night, another hand came down on her arm, a much bigger hand—but instead of pulling her away, it whipped her around and into a strong embrace.

She blinked, shocked not only by the sudden change in trajectory but also by the quick turn of her thoughts. Her gaze drew up to Brandon’s face, his glorious chiseled jaw covered in stubble, to the straight line of his nose and finally to his eyes. Brandon. She sucked in a breath as he slowly lifted her hands to rest on his arms; he was too tall for her to wrap her arms around his neck. He dropped his hands to her back and drew her close. It seemed as though they’d been swaying side to side in the instant he’d grabbed her hand.

He’d used those dance moves he’d been showing off all night to pull her to him before she’d had any notion of what was going on. Thomas Rhett’s “Die A Happy Man” played over the speakers, the singer’s tenor along with Brandon’s arms lulling her into a sense of calm—it was a slow dance that Allie had thought devastatingly romantic.

She shook her head a little, trying to remember what she’d just been doin’. She was pretty sure she’d been ticked.

Brandon leaned in close and whispered in her ear, his lips brushing across it as he spoke. “Don’t make a scene. It’s what he wants.”

“Who?” She blinked, and her stomach fluttered with butterflies. She didn’t want to make a scene. She wanted to dance. With Brandon. As the night wore on, she’d wanted it more and more, and now, finally, it was happening. What was he talking about?

He spun her out, and in those brief seconds she was away from his body, out of his grasp, she saw Tony standing on the outskirts of the dance floor with his arm around the woman from the bathroom. Jenn. The woman he’d cheated on her with. She remembered what she’d been doing. What she’d planned to do.

Brandon spun her back to him and held her firmly against him.

“Let me go, Brandon,” she said. “He’s a snake in the grass, and I mean to tell him so.”

“You could,” Brandon said. “But you’d be playing into his hands.”

She glanced up. “What do you mean?”

“It’s not a coincidence that man showed up here; he was looking for you the moment he stepped foot in the door. And he was all smiles when he saw Jo dragging you away. Didn’t you see his face when you came out here?” Brandon asked.

She had. He’d been smiling. The dingbat.

“He was happy. That man wants to feel like he still means something to you, and if you throw a fit, that’s exactly what you’ll prove,” Brandon said. “Now look at him.” He lowered her into a dip, and she let her gaze wander to Tony. He was scowling. Brandon pulled her back up and ran a hand over the back of her hair, leaving it there as his other hand stayed in place at the small of her back.

She grinned up at him.

“You want to make him mad. You pretend he doesn’t exist. And when the song’s over, you walk outside with me right past him and give that girl of his a compliment of some sort as we go past without even looking at him. Tell her she has a nice shirt or something. Being gracious when everyone expects you to be crazy will drive him crazy.”

She swallowed. It was what Jo would do. She scanned the crowd until she found her sister by the back of the club, a hand to Cash’s chest as he glared in Tony’s direction. Cash looked about as ready to pounce as she’d almost been, jaw tight, hands fisted at his sides. He wouldn’t do anything, though, not with Jo telling him not to.

Allie looked up at Brandon. His gaze swept over the planes of her face so slowly it felt like a caress. She swallowed hard. “Why, Brandon Carroll, how devious of you.” She was glad it came out smooth instead of choked like she was sure it would.

He quirked a grin. “Oh, I’m just getting started,” he said, and he slowly dragged the ponytail holder out of her hair. “By the time this song is over, there’ll be steam coming out of his ears. That man’s an idiot, and a narcissistic one at that. And narcissists hate being ignored, feeling replaced, more than anything. Now hold me close and act like I’m everything you’ve ever wanted.”

Allie swallowed thickly as he ran his fingers through her hair. His glorious fingers. She leaned into him, closed her eyes, and let him lead her in a gentle sway around the dance floor. She didn’t know what had persuaded Brandon to do this, if it was his kind heart and helpful ways or what. Honestly, it probably was that. In a way, she’d been a damsel in distress, and he’d done what he always did when people needed help. He helped.

But as she felt the push and pull of his body against hers, breathed in the heady scent of him, and felt his arms tighten about her and the soft kiss he laid on the top of her head, there was no acting. Hewaseverything she wanted.

And she’d be darned if she knew what to do about it.

A moment later, the song dwindled. Brandon leaned down to her ear. “You ready, Sunshine?”

Heat ran through her at his use of her nickname. Ready for what?

The song ended, and before she knew what he was doing, he’d grabbed her hand and was dragging her toward the door. She briefly caught sight of Tony and his new girl, and her senses came back to her. Brandon showed no signs of slowing, so when she got close enough to the girl, she pulled on Brandon’s hand, just enough to slow him as they walked past.

Without looking at Tony, she leaned in conspiratorially to the gal. “Love your sweater!”

Then Brandon was tugging her off again, across the main entrance, out the front door, and toward the parking lot.

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