Page 38 of The Reno
I frowned. “Married? Oh, I’m not in a relationship—”
“Our Liam.” Dot nodded at the man pouring our drinks at the bar.
“Oh. We’re not— We’re not together.”
Dot ignored me. “You remind me of Archie and me. We used to bicker too, but we’d always make up eventually.” Dot waggled her eyebrows. “Making up was the best bit.”
I laughed awkwardly. “We’re not—”
“Okay, everyone!” Sandra interrupted with a shout. “Time for a dance!”
Liam brought our drinks back, placing them on the table before offering his hand to Dot in a mock-flamboyantway that made her laugh.
As Liam led Dot to the dance floor, other couples joined them, swaying to “String of Pearls” by Glenn Miller. My heart gave a horrible swoop as Liam gave Dot a twirl, and her smile widened. It was strange how the man I’d argued with in the car park felt like a stranger, a faint memory.
As the song ended and “Moonlight Serenade” began, Dot furiously whispered in Liam’s ear, and his forehead creased. He was shaking his head. Dot muttered more words, animated. Eventually, he nodded and scanned the room. His eyes found mine, and that indecipherable expression was back. He began walking over to me with a determined, unwavering stride.
He stopped in front of me and met my gaze. Heat rose to my cheeks.
“I’ve been told to ask you to dance.”
My eyebrows shot up. “You’ve been told?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that’s not a nice way to ask, is it?”
Liam’s jaw tensed. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you could have just asked me. You didn’t have to specify that an eighty-eight-year-old lady had strong-armed you to ask me. Besides, you don’t seem the type to cower to a demand like that. You seem all”—I gestured to his face—“unmovable.”
“Will you dance with me or not?” Liam said, his voice going low.
I laughed. “Not with that face. Seriously, I’m fine.”
Liam made a frustrated noise. “Red. Just dance with me. It will make a very kind, very sweet lady happy.”
I glanced behind him to see Sandra and Dot whispering, small smiles on their faces. “We’re being set up.”
“Bingo. She gets it.”
“Stop being a dickhead.”
“Look. She looks frail, but I did all my piano homework for a reason. She can be bloody terrifying when she wants to be. So let’s dance. It’s not a big deal. We can make her happy and forget all about it.”
Liam offered me his hand. It was the first time I’d actually looked at it properly. It was huge and had callouses and scars all over. How would they feel in mine? Warm, maybe.
I glanced behind him again to see the anticipation on the faces behind Liam.
“Don’t step on my feet,” I said as we clasped hands.
His hands were warm and rough, as I expected. As Liam led me onto the dance floor, I suddenly lost the ability to move. Liam frowned, then moved his hands to my waist. I was stuck, sinking into the ground. The realisation of my poor coordination flickered across Liam’s face. Resigned, he drifted his palms across my waist to my lower back. I made a small noise as he pulled me closer to him, leading our movements because I simply could not.
I glanced up at him and found he was staring down at me. From this angle, I realised how much bigger Liam was—and I was not a small woman. I was five foot five—the national average. But I had always been mid-size since I was a teenager. I had wide hips and full arms, which I resented when Kate Moss graced the front ofCosmo. I’d never felt small, even when I wanted to. But Liam towered over me, the heat of his body radiating throughmy clothes.
Liam’s lips were in the shell of my ear, his voice low. I could feel it vibrate through his chest, which was so, so close to being pressed against mine.
“One minute, thirty seconds more, and we’re done,” Liam murmured.
