Page 41 of Spinner's Luck

“You know what I’d like to do?” I asked, leaning in, watching her expression shift.

Her brow arched. “What?”

I stood, holding out a hand. “Dance with me.”

Her eyes widened, flickering with surprise. “You dance?”

“Pick your jaw up off the floor,” I said with a smirk. “This southern boy has a few tricks tucked under these boots.”

She paused just a beat before slipping her hand into mine. That touch lit me up, heat shooting up my spine like a shot of whiskey burning its way down. Felt right, like I’d been waiting on it longer than I cared to admit. Without a word, I pulled her toward the small dance floor by the bar, where a few couples were already swaying.

The song was slow, the kind with a steady rhythm that dug under your skin and made it impossible not to move. Lucy’s arms looped around my neck, fluid, unguarded. My hands found her hips, fitting there like they belonged.

“This is... unexpected,” she murmured, her voice softer now, teasing but threaded with something else.

“You complainin’?” My lips curled into a slow grin.

“Not yet.” The warmth in her smile softened just enough to make my grip on her tighten.

The space between us shrank with every slow step, her body pressing into mine, her scent wrapping around me, floral with a hint of something uniquely her. The clubhouse noise faded. The music, the voices, the laughter, they were just background static now.

There was only her.

“Spinner,” she said, barely above a whisper.

“Yeah?” My voice came out rough, thick with what I was feeling.

“You’re staring.” Her cheeks flushed deep pink.

“Can’t help it.” The honesty slipped out before I could reel it back.

Her breath hitched, just faintly, and that was it. I tilted my head, brushing my lips over hers.

The kiss started slow, tentative, but didn’t stay that way. Her fingers slid into my hair, and something in me snapped. I pulled her closer, my hands gripping her hips, dragging her against me like I needed her warmth to burn away the rest of the world.

When we finally broke apart, her eyes searched mine, something deeper than surprise flickering in them.

“Well,” she breathed, “that was equally unexpected.”

“Complainin’ again?” I asked, though I was already fighting the urge to pull her into a corner for more.

Her smile turned sly, knowing. “Not even a little.”

The heat between us hadn’t cooled, not even close. But then, movement in my peripheral caught my attention.

Ashlynn.

She was dancing with one of the other brothers, her arms draped over his shoulders, her body moving in sync with his. But her eyes weren’t on him.

They were locked on me.

Her stare was focused, possessive, and entirely unwelcome. The flicker of frustration, the edge of something darker hit me. I felt my own irritation rise, heat twisting in my gut. I hadn’t meant to lead her on—hadn’t expected my attempts to help would be taken for something more.

But that glare? That was a problem.

One I’d have to deal with before she stirred up trouble.

Lucy’s fingers still rested lightly against my chest, her rare smile just for me. Whatever this was, it was real.

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