Page 270 of Banter & Blushes

The glass I’m holding slips in my hand, and I barely catch it before it hits the floor. Keigan notices, of course—he notices everything—and his grin turns smug.

“Careful, boss lady,” he says, leaning just a little too close. “Wouldn’t want to break anything.”

I roll my eyes and step back, putting some much-needed distance between us. “Just don’t get in my way, Hollywood.”

The jukebox hums to life, and notes of an old-school love song drift through the bar. A few of the regulars start clapping along, and Keigan’s head tilts like he’s just had an idea. A dangerous one, judging by the way his grin shifts into something even more mischievous.

“Dance with me,” he says suddenly, turning to me with a hand outstretched.

I blink at him, caught completely off guard. “What?”

“Dance with me,” he repeats, stepping closer and wiggling his fingers like he’s daring me to take his hand.

I glance around the bar, half expecting someone to jump in and save me from whatever this is, but of course, no one does. In fact, Mrs. Thompson is actively encouraging it with an exaggerated wink and an enthusiastic clap.

Traitor.

“I don’t dance,” I say, crossing my arms in what I hope is a definitive gesture.

Keigan leans in, his voice dropping just enough to make my pulse skip. “Sure you do. You just haven’t danced with me yet.”

Before I can argue, he takes the rag from my hand, sets it on the counter, and tugs me gently toward the open space near the jukebox. My feet follow, apparently deciding they have a mind of their own, and suddenly I’m standing in the middle of the bar with everyone watching as Keigan rests one hand at my waist and takes my other hand in his.

“Captain Confidence,” I say, trying to ignore the way his hand feels warm and steady against mine.

“So I’ve been called,” he says, his grin practically glowing as he starts to sway, guiding me into the rhythm of the music.

It takes me a moment to catch on, my movements stiff and awkward at first, but Keigan doesn’t seem to mind. He just keeps smiling, his steps easy and confident.

“You’re not bad at this,” I admit, my voice quieter now that we’re closer.

“Not bad?” he repeats, raising an eyebrow. “I’ll take it. But you’re underselling yourself, Becky. You’re a natural.”

My lips curl upward. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“Good thing I’m not trying to get anywhere,” he says, his voice softening just enough to make my chest feel a little lighter. “I’m just trying to enjoy the moment.”

The song shifts into its final notes, and Keigan dips me dramatically, earning cheers and applause from the bar. I laugh, the sound bubbling out of me before I can stop it, and when he pulls me back up, his grin is so wide it’s almost contagious.

“See? That wasn’t so bad,” he says, his hand lingering at my waist for just a beat longer than necessary. “We should do this more often.”

“Do what?” I ask, glancing up at him.

“Dance,” he says simply, his smile soft but genuine. “You’re kind of good at it.”

“Go home, Keigan.”

He chuckles, heading for the door. “Goodnight, Becky.”

“Goodnight,” I say, my voice softer than I intend.

But before I can blink, he’s closing the distance between us in a few easy strides, his eyes locked on mine.

“Keigan, what are you?—”

Whatever I was about to say disappears the moment he stops in front of me, his hand sliding gently to my waist as he leans in, his other hand brushing a stray wisp of hair from my face.

The kiss comes softly, like the whisper of an ocean breeze, and for a second, everything else fades. His hand at my waist steadies me, grounding me in a way I didn’t realize I needed, while his other hand tilts my chin just enough to close the space between us. The world narrows to this moment, this quiet, unspoken connection that feels as natural as breathing.

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