Page 5 of Breaking Emily's Rules
“I think you should dance with me.”
“That’s what you get for thinking.”
“One dance.” He put his bottle down and pulled me onto the dance floor.
For the next few minutes, he proved he could dance, strong large hands wrapped around my waist as he stayed in step. I danced three dances in a row with him; though, I suspected no one else dared interrupt. A couple of times Ronnie Walter approached as if he would cut in, but Stone’s glare chased him away.
When the music slowed to “Let Me Down Easy,” Stone pulled me against him. Fast tunes had played all night, which meant his hands only briefly lingered on my waist, but I couldn’t risk a slow song. I should stop the torture of a slow dance now, but I found his rock-hard chest and the way my head fit under his chin too seductive. He smelled like a man. Leather and some kind of light aftershave that didn’t make me dizzy. Not what I had planned for tonight or any night since I’d decided to be done with men.
“I haven’t seen you here before,” I said against his chest as I tried to pretend for one moment I might go home with this guy. Never times infinity to the tenth power. This kind of guy couldn’t be controlled.
“I haven’t been here before.” His hand lowered to the small of my back, and I might have trembled a little bit.
“Why not?”
Here was the problem, because there was a problem with every handsome man from here to Poughkeepsie. Of course he was married, probably with a wife and kid at home. I’d call that strike, one, two and three. If this guy was single, then I was the tooth fairy.
A veil went over his eyes and he stopped smiling. “New in town. And I don’t like bars.”
“You’re married.”
He stopped moving, like I’d slapped him. “I would be at home with my wife if I was married. And we wouldn’t waste time dancing. Or if we did, it would be the horizontal kind.”
I cleared my throat and tried to dispel the image of Stone dancing. Horizontally. “So you think we’re wasting time here?”
“Not if I do this right.” He grinned and twirled his finger in a strand of my hair like he had every right to do it.
I stared at his finger like I would cut it off, but this seemed to have no effect on him. “What don’t you like about bars?”
He was probably an alcoholic and it was too hard to be around booze.Stone was up to bat, unaware he was about to strike out.
“People. Noise.” He threw a glance in the direction of the band.
“That’s music.” I glared at him.
“If you say so.”
“Where did you learn how to dance?” For a man who hated country music, he knew his steps.
His eyes closed for a brief second. “Long story. Let’s just say it involved a dare, a G-string and a six pack of beer. I’d rather not say any more. What about you? Looking for something? Or someone?”
“What makes you think I’m looking for someone?” Heavens, my shield had slipped.
“You’re kidding. Every guy in this place has his eye on you.”
Not possible. I whipped my head around, wondering which one of them had fooled me. Stone, at least, was obvious. “No, they don’t. I went to school with half of these guys. They only want to dance with me.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And you. What about you? Who gave you subtlety lessons, because you should really get your money back.”
“Hey, I’m only trying to protect you. From the others.”
I managed to crack a smile. “My sister and I come here whenever we want to dance. That’s all.” I wanted to spell it out for him because he didn’t look like the kind of guy who was used to hearing the wordnofrom a woman. “And do you have to look at me like that?”
“Like how?”
“Like I’m a steak and you’re not a vegetarian.” Maybe if he’d stop looking at me like I was a T-bone, I could stop sweating. Already, a trickle had slid down the inside of my thigh straight into my boot.
