Page 39 of Just Say Yes

“Good,” he said softly, his hand moving just slightly, almost teasing, but with that steady warmth that had my pulse pounding.

We fell into a rhythm, the romantic country tune now just background noise to the silent exchange between us. Logan’s grip was firm yet gentle, his hand guiding mine in a way that made me feel like I was the only person in the room. His thumb brushed the back of my hand, and that one small movement sent shivers down my spine.

“Fair warning—I can’t dance,” he said, and the amusement in his eyes made my cheeks flush.

“Maybe we can just sway,” I replied, feeling bolder now, relaxed in his arms as we moved to the slow, sensual music.

He smiled, a glint of something mischievous in his eyes. “I can do that.” And he did, his steps steady and sure, swaying gently on the outskirts of the dance floor while more experienced dancers moved around us.

I barely had to think, his presence wrapping around me, his hand warm and possessive on my lower back, but not in a way that felt controlling, just ... protective.

Right.

His hand shifted slightly, his fingers tracing a path that left tingling warmth in their wake. The air between us grew charged, the casual dance turning into something else entirely, something heavier, filled with possibilities.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about something all day,” he said, his voice a low murmur just above the music.

I looked up in anticipation.

Logan’s eyes flicked to my lips and back up. “I think I almost kissed you yesterday.”

My breath caught, and I searched his face, unsure whether he was joking. But the intensity in his gaze was unmistakable.

“You think?” I managed, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah.” He leaned down, his mouth close to my ear, his breath warm. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering just a moment too long. “If I’d had the chance ... I would have started here.” His thumb brushed the corner of my mouth, his gaze never leaving mine. “I would have gone slow,” he murmured, his voice rough, almost like he was holding himself back. “Just enough to make you wonder.”

He paused, his other hand tracing a gentle line along my waist. “I would have pulled you close, like this,” he continued, drawing me even closer until there was almost no space between us, his body warm and solid against mine.

“And then?” I breathed, feeling every nerve in my body come alive.

He smiled, his lips dangerously close to mine. “Then I would have kept you waiting, just for a second, until you couldn’t stand it. Until you needed it as much as I did.”

The tension between us was thick, nearly electric, and it took every ounce of restraint not to close the distance between us.

His gaze dropped to my lips, and for a breathless moment I thought he’d actually do it. But he stopped, that wicked glint in his eyes back in full force.

“But not here,” he said, his voice low and rough. “Not with an audience.”

“Oh.” I let out a shaky laugh, hoping it masked the way my pulse was racing, feeling equal parts relief and frustration.

“That kiss would be only for you,” he replied, grinning, his hand lingering on my waist, holding me close a moment longer before finally, reluctantly, he stepped back just as the song ended.

I swallowed hard, my eyes bouncing between his. If I had any hope of being the kind of girl who kept things casual and feelings-free, I needed some space.

The secret that I’d been keeping—that I knew who he was and we had a shared history—gnawed at me.

“I know who you are,” I blurted.

His brow creased. “And who am I?”

I blinked, trying to get my thoughts straight. “Maverick.” My eyebrows rose, waiting for him to react.

He huffed a laugh and grinned. “It’s a stupid nickname from childhood.” His smile lifted. “Grandpa told you?”

My smile faltered, a strange knot twisting in my stomach as the name lingered in the air. “No, it’s ...” I started, my voice hardening.

Even thinking about Trent filled the air in a way I didn’t like, like a door creaking open to a place I had tried to lock away.

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