Page 79 of Moms of Mayhem
She missed the first step, turned the wrong way, then bumped into Stevie with a little squeak. Her head tipped back in a laugh as she tried to catch the beat.
One, two, three. Step, turn, slide.
She started to move with the crowd, her brow furrowed in concentration, but her hips swaying with more confidence every beat. She looked light and wild and completely at home.
Just when I thought I couldn’t want her more, she looked up.
Her eyes locked on mine across the room, a little breathless,a little surprised. Her smile curled slow and wicked, like she knew exactly what she was doing to me.
I couldn’t move. Could barely breathe.
That kiss last night had knocked me sideways. But this?
This felt like falling.
Ty’s long sigh finally drew my attention, and I looked over at my friend. “I see we’ve moved past attempting to be sly about this. You could at least try not to eye-fuck my sister in front of me.”
I grinned, loving that there was no malice in his tone. Reluctant acceptance I could work with. “She kissed me last night.”
His dark eyes shot my way, even though his attention stayed firmly out on the dance floor. “You sound 15.”
“Kinda feels that way too, man.”
The song switched, and Ty’s jaw worked like he was trying to decide what to say. Instead, he set his beer down and walked out onto the dance floor. His hand found his little sister’s, and he swung her out onto the floor as couples began pairing off.
Somewhere along the line, I forgot Ty was an excellent two-stepper. He and Emmy floated across the floor in a fast pace, just like I’d seen their parents do once upon a time. They moved with this easy, inherited rhythm, Emmy laughing up at her brother as he spun her with a little flair.
“Alright, cowboy, looking a little lovesick there.”
I turned to see Stevie grinning as she slid into the seat Ty vacated. She had on a black lace top and jeans that hugged her curves, her dirty blonde hair hanging in a perfectly curled ponytail down her back and gold hoops in her ears. A guy I hadn’t met before followed, brown hair slicked back away from his face.
“Luke Sutton.” He put the drinks he carried down then stretched out a hand to me. “I figured I should introduce myself before we get inducted into some weird husbands and partners cult.”
I barked a laugh and reached across to shake his hand. “Beckett Conway. Good to meet you.”
His grip was firm, the lean muscles in his forearms flexing beneath his rolled-up flannel shirt. “Huge fan, by the way. That shorthanded goal in game five of the Western Championship two years ago? Still gives me chills. My buddy and I watched it on repeat for a week.”
“Appreciate it.” I nodded, a little heat creeping up my neck. “Still hoping to get back out there once the hip’s healed.”
“You will,” Luke said, like it was a fact. “The Yetis need you.”
I liked him instantly.
Stevie took a long sip of whatever fruity thing she was drinking. “You should feel honored. I haven’t been out two nights in a row since before the boys started sleeping through the night.”
“You don’t say,” I replied, leaning back. “Girls’ night was a good time.”
Her smirk was pure trouble. “Until you crashed it.”
“I didn’tcrash. I brought food, and she invited me in.”
“Uh-huh. Because women frequently turn down hot men standing on their porch with a steaming cup of queso after said hot man anonymously brought her gifts all week.” Stevie squinted her eyes, staring right at me. “Someone’s cooked here.”
I gave her my best innocent shrug, not willing to tell her it was my mom’s idea. “Alright, but I have to ask—what waswith the shirts? I can’t stop thinking about how progressivelyworsethey got.”
Stevie grinned over her glass. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“I would, actually.”
