Page 20 of Lunar Diamonds
I stepped carefully. They loved each other dearly, but their spats were the stuff of legend. “Have you talked things out?”
His shoulders sagged. “Meaning have I apologized?” He kept his eyes on his husband. “I’m too embarrassed.” He gulped his drink. “Ah.” He winced. “Shouldn’t have done that.”
I waited for the epiphany to hit properly. Especially with the way he kept staring at Danny.
The sailor caught him watching, lifting a tentative hand.
Lee lifted one back, cocking a smile.
Adorable. Things would be okay as they always were in the universe of Danny and Lee. I took another sip of my drink, leaving Lee to wave coquettishly at his husband while I mingled for a bit.
Arriving at the dancefloor point of the compass, I leaned against a pillar, watching a woman dance solo to a Britney Spears number, giving it her all, busting out some serious moves, her blue witch aura swirling like happy flames around her.
I turned off my lenses for the night, contemplating joining her for a boogie.
Someone tapped my shoulder.
I turned to face them, almost dropping my drink in surprise. “Hot Guy!”
Oh. Crap.
That smile of his almost broke me. “Excuse me?”
If the floor could swallow me up right now, I’d really appreciate it…
Too humiliated to speak, I felt the heat rise in my face. Terrible heat, the kind to bring sweat to the back of my neck and instability to my dignity.
“Nice to see you again,” he said, slight concern painted across his gorgeous face.
What a beautiful shade of plum his long-sleeved shirt was, paired with a pair of white jeans and lovely black shoes. His chocolate brown hair shimmered, those dark eyes disarming me. And he smelled like mint, all fresh and yummy.
Go dunk your face in the nearest ice bucket!
With a deep breath, knowing I could be cooler than this, I spoke. “Likewise. What brings you here?”
Hmmm. Not the best line, but at least there were no cracks in my tone.
He glanced at the stage. “I heard this is the place to be.”
That voice. Wow. My boxers were about to flee my body. “Do you sing?”
He shook his head. “Nope. Stage fright.” He smiled, his eyes twinkling. “Do you?”
I took a few seconds to answer, composing myself. “I do. But only for fun.”
“I see.” He traced a long, elegant finger around the rim of his glass. I couldn’t be sure, but it looked like a vodka lemonade with ice.
Or just a lemonade. Or a sparkling water. Or?—
Who gives a crap? Stop staring at his glass when there’s a perfectly scrummy face to gaze upon!
“I never got your name,” he said.
“Oh. I—” The solo dancer decided this would be the moment to charge from the dancefloor in our direction, driving us apart with the worst possible timing.
“Pardon me!” she cackled, almost spilling my rum.
I checked myself for splash marks. All fine. But is this where I looked up to find the hot guy gone?
