Page 92 of Hold the Line

The next song kicked in—a fast-paced two-step I could dance in my sleep. Tilly took the lead, holding one of my hands, the other on the center of my back. We weren’t smooth since leading didn’t exactly come naturally to her, but we found our groove quickly.

I’d danced with girlfriends plenty when we didn’t feel like dealing with any of the guys at the bar, and it was always a good time. Tilly and I laughed our way through the first song, then got serious during the second. By the third, she was spinning me like a professional.

We were both sweaty and having a grand ol’ time when two guys in black Stetsons got in our space.

“Looks like you ladies could use some real partners,” one called over the music.

“Lucky for you, we’re available,” the other one said around a jaw full of chew.

“No thanks. We’re good,” Tilly stated, spinning us away from them.

Of course they didn’t get the hint. The one who smelled like rotten tobacco put his hand on my shoulder, trying to pry me away from Tilly.

I turned my head to glare at him. “No, thank you. Neither of us wants to dance with you.”

He yanked his hand away and raised his brows like he was surprised at how firm I was being. “Hey, no harm meant, darlin’. No need to get all snappy.”

Before I could tell him not to call me darlin’, an arm slid around my middle, and Chris appeared behind Tilly.

“There a problem here?” Deacon asked, tugging me back into his chest.

Chris glowered at the cowboys. “These women told you they’re not interested. That should’ve been the end of it.”

The first guy tipped his hat. “We’re just looking for dance partners, not a fight. But a tip for you: you don’t want other men trying to dance with your lady; you need to be out on the dance floor with them.”

The black-hatted men wandered off, looking for other women to dance with, and Chris pulled Tilly into his arms, taking back the lead.

I turned around to face Deacon. “Thanks for the rescue. We would’ve been fine, though.”

He took my hand in one of his, and the other claimed my waist. “I’m sure you would’ve, but that guy had a point. I don’t want other men dancing with my lady, so I need to be out here with her.”

“Are you going to dance with me, Deacon Slater?”

He lowered his forehead to mine. “I can’t guarantee I’ll be as good a partner as Tilly, but I’m gonna try.”

His first steps were hesitant and unsure, but as he led me, and neither of us stumbled, he began to relax, beat by beat.

“You’re doing it, honey,” I encouraged, flashing him a smile. “This isn’t so bad, is it?”

“I feel like I’m about to step on your feet.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got my boots on. I can take it.” I tapped the toe of my boot against his, and his answering grin gave me that swoopy feeling in my stomach. This man…god, did I have the biggest crush on him.

The next song picked up, and so did we, spinning and swaying across the floor. And for just a little while, everything around us faded away until it was just the two of us. No rules or worrying about hitting the rhythm just right. If he stepped on my toes, I barely noticed. Deacon set aside his insecurity to have fun with me the way I loved. My hand tucked in his, I was happier than I remembered being in a long time—and I’d been pretty damn happy lately.

When the music slowed again, he pulled me close. I turned my head and softly sang along with the love song, humming through the lyrics I didn’t know. His hand flexed on my back, and he rubbed his scruff against my cheek.

“I got you,” I sang. “Down to the lowest and all the times in between. I got you, hope you know it’s you and me ’til the end. I got you…”

His breath was hot on my neck. Then his lips scorched my skin as he kissed a line from my ear lobe to my collarbone. He held me so tight we were barely swaying. I kept singing words that weren’t mine, but the sentiment I shared and felt deeply. I knew he was feeling it right along with me. Deacon made no bones about showing me how much he loved and adored me. Always reaching for me, caring for me, telling me when he appreciated something I did, saying the words often and unabashedly.

When the song ended and the next kicked back up, I lifted my head and smiled. “I could use a beer.”

“Then you’ll have a beer,” he replied.

Tilly and Chris were at our high-top table, their heads tilted toward one another. From their puppy-dog expressions, I wondered how long they’d been watching us. Probably a while.

“I knew you’d enjoy yourself,” Chris announced. “Nothing better than dancing with your woman.”

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