Page 38 of Just Say Yes

Out of politeness, I placed my hand in his and allowed him to lead me to the dance floor. It was an upbeat country song that was popular on the radio.

“Can you two-step?” the stranger asked.

I looked up and forced a smile. “I can try.”

“All you’ve got to do is follow, darling.” He winked, and my eyes searched the crowd again. When Logan used a nickname, it was silly, but I didn’t love the way this man’s eager eyes hovered a second too long on my face.

I looked over his shoulder as Annie gave me two thumbs up before miming an enthusiastic blow job. I fought past a giggle and focused on the other dancers as the man led me around the worn, wooden dance floor.

As he guided me through the two-step, his hand pressed low on my back, lingering in a way that made my skin crawl. He was too close, his grip too familiar for a simple dance between strangers. His cologne was sharp, almost overpowering, and it took everything in me not to grimace as he leaned down to murmur near my ear.

“You’re good at this,” he said, his voice smooth, but it only made my pulse speed up in the wrong way.

“Thanks,” I replied, forcing another smile, but my eyes kept scanning the crowd. I caught Annie’s gaze again, but she was deep in conversation, her attention elsewhere now, and I was left to fend for myself.

His hand slid lower than it should have, his cologne suffocating. I forced a smile, focusing on the other dancers, but my skin prickled with unease. When his breath hit my ear, murmuring something I didn’t quite catch, I decided I’d had enough.

As the song ended, like a ripple in the air, I felt a change—a new presence close by, one that sent a strange, reassuring calm through me.

And then I heard his voice.

“Mind if I cut in?”

Relief flooded me, but it was tangled with something else—something that made my pulse race. The stranger’s steps faltered, his hand loosening on me as he looked up in annoyance. I turned, and there was Logan, his stance casual but his eyes hard, exuding a quiet confidence. Logan wasn’t just standing there—he was looming, his broad frame an unspoken warning that made the stranger step back without a word.

“I think we were just getting started.” The stranger tightened his grip on my waist as I tried to pull away.

“Actually,” Logan continued, his gaze never wavering, “I wasn’t asking you. I was speaking to the lady. She’s with me.”

Without waiting for a reply, Logan reached for my elbow, his fingers curling around it with a strength that grounded me.

The stranger hesitated, eyes narrowing as he sized up Logan.

Mild panic itched in my throat. A muscle in Logan’s jaw flexed. “You can start it,” he challenged the man, “but I guarantee I’ll end it.”

The stranger paused, then shrugged and backed off, muttering something under his breath that sounded a lot likeprick.

Logan’s grip tightened slightly, his silent message clear: He wasn’t letting me go.

“You all right?” he asked, his voice a low rumble, the warmth in his eyes undoing the last of my tension.

I nodded, a fresh wave of relief washing over me, and I looked up at him as my thoughts thumped to the beat of the music.

Casual.

Casual.

Casual.

Logan’s hand slid to the small of my back, pulling me close in a way that felt nothing like the stranger’s grasp. His touch was sure and steady, and the loud music and laughter around us faded, leaving just him and me, our breaths mingling in the small space between us.

His hand on my waist was steady, grounding me in a way that made me want to lean into him, to trust him. But that was dangerous.

Trust was a slippery slope.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt,” he murmured, his mouth quirked in a half smile that sent my heart racing for a completely different reason.

“Believe me, you weren’t interrupting anything,” I replied, my voice shaky but light. The words were meant as a joke, but the intensity in his gaze was anything but.

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