Page 71 of Starting Over with You
“Yeah, shut up!” she yells, producing a mic, and I groan.
“Who gave her a mic?” I ask, and Kenni lets out a very unladylike snort that gets me all riled up.
“I have loved this woman for eighteen years. We’re here celebrating seventeen years of marriage, and I swear I fall deeper for her every single day.”
My lips tip up. The dude is a fool for my sister.
Not that I have any room to talk.
The crowd yells and makes catcalls at the couple, but my gaze moves to Kenni. She’s mesmerized by the scene before us. I drink her in, the curve of her jaw, her red lips and pink cheeks. She brings her clasped hands under her chin and sighs deeply as Matt continues. “I met this gorgeous woman right here, and she came up to me with this look in her eyes that had me in knots. She flashed me the biggest smile I’d ever seen and told me that I kept looking at her like I could rock her world. I did, by the way.” Laughter rings out in the room, and I watch Kenni grin, loving how beautiful she is when she does. While I’m a jealous bastard, wishing that grin were mine, I can appreciate her love for my sister and her husband.
“When this song came out, we said it was ours since it reminded us of how we met. But, Sadie?”
Sadie beams at her husband. “Yes, Matthew?”
My brother-in-law visibly swoons for my psycho sister. “I fell inlove with you that night and every night after. You’re my world, and I wouldn’t want to do this life with anyone but you.”
Sadie leans in as he wraps his arm around her, and the band starts to play “You Look Like You Love Me”by Ella Langley and Riley Green. Now, my sister has one hell of a voice and sings like an angel as she flirts with her husband, but what I didn’t expect was for Matt to have a Southern drawl to his singing voice that has everyone in this place hooting and hollering for the two of them.
But my eyes are only on Kenni.
“Dance with me,” I blurt out, needing a reason to touch her.
She doesn’t even look at me. She just stands up and takes my hand in hers. God, I love her confidence. I follow her out to the floor, drinking in the heart shape of her ass before she turns for me to take her in my arms. I grab her sweet hip before we start moving to the music, our eyes locked in a way that has flames licking up my spine. She slides her hand up my chest, wrapping it around my shoulder.
As always, the world fades away, and all I feel and see is her.
Her lips are tipped up at the side, her eyes locked with mine, and I want to taste her. I swallow hard as I refrain from acting on my impulses. I don’t want our reuniting kiss—because there will be one tonight if I don’t fuck it up—to be in the middle of a dance floor where the world can see. I want that moment to myself.
I’m greedy when it comes to KenniLeigh.
One song turns into two, then four, but I don’t hear anything until Dierks Bentley croons “Come a Little Closer” through the speakers. So I do what my boy Dierks says and move my hand from her hip to the small of her back in order to pull her closer into my body. Her eyes widen for just a fraction of a second before they hood, looking fucking stunning. The lights are low, the neon signs shining and sparkling in her blue eyes. She wraps her hands up around the back of my neck, her fingers tangled in my curls as I lean in to press my forehead to hers. Doing so pushes my hat up, but I don’t give two shits. I’m fully lost in her eyes. She licks her lips, and I’m a fucking goner.
I move my hand up her back, grabbing hold of her hair and brushing it off her shoulder to expose the little lace that holds up the bodice of her dress. She tracks my movements as I brush my lips along her shoulder, just for a little sample. I have to taste her. It’s a need at this point. Her breath catches, and everything goes taut as I will myself not to devour her in the middle of all these sweaty bodies.
You can’t make a move.
You can’t make a move.
You can’t make a move.
“What?” she whispers against my cheek, and I’m mortified that I said that out loud. I pull back, only to be pulled into her eyes.
I press my forehead to hers once more. “Nothing,” I somehow get out, not even recognizing my voice.
“No, I heard you,” she says, her eyes searching mine. “Why can’t you?”
My heart jumps into my throat before falling back into place and pounding so loudly, I’m sure I can hear it over the music. Our eyes are locked, our breathing synced before I lick my lips and say, “Kenni.”
Just her name, because that’s all I get out.
“Do it,” she challenges, her eyes full of desire and mischief. “Make a move.”
Fuck. Me.
I search her eyes, trying to find something to stop me, but there is nothing. I know I wanted this moment to myself, but I can’t resist. Not when she’s looking at me with those fuck-me-stupid eyes. Not when each breath she draws has her perfect tits brushing against my chest. Not when all I can think about are her lips on mine and her body in my arms.
Mine.
