Page 86 of Someone to Hold
Her grin softens as she places her hand in mine and steps closer.
“I’m not exactly graceful with this boot on,” she whispers, placing her other hand on my shoulder.
“I got you,” I promise, pulling her body against mine.
It shouldn’t feel new and different. Hell, I’ve memorized every inch of her these past couple of weeks. But this isn’t the same. I’m holding her as if I have some right to claim her. Like we’re a realcouple. My heart and body have zero doubt that this woman belongs to me.
We don’t speak as we sway together, and I keep my hands at a respectful place on her back even though I want more. I want everything. Hell, for all I know, she’s going to kick me to the curb as soon as I’m not of use to her. But even the idea of rejection doesn’t tamp down my need.
The song ends, and she pulls away. “I should go check on…” She waves her hand between us. “Other things.”
“You do that, Molly. I’ll be here when you’re done with theother things.”
I pitch my voice low because I want her to understand what I’m saying. When her eyes darken, I think she might, but it could also be purely physical for her. Normally, that’s all I’d want, but damn, I really am a sap because my heart tightens as I watch her walk away.
I turn to do the same thing, but Laurel and Luke grab onto me from either side.
“It’s a line dance, Chase,” Luke says. “All cowboys know how to line dance, right?”
I swallow back a groan. “Knowing how and wanting to are two different things.”
“But youwantto teach us, right?” Laurel asks, and it doesn’t sound like I have much choice. “That’s what a nanny does. We watchedMary Poppinsduring inside recess last week when it was raining.”
I rub a hand over my face to hide my grimace at the comparison. We’re surrounded by wedding guests, and the three of us have ended up in the front line.
“Shit,” I mutter, realizing there isn’t much hope for escape at the moment.
“You’re not supposed to say shit,” Laurel reminds me.
“You’re not supposed to say shit either,” Luke tells her.
“Start moving,” I tell the kids as I muster a smile for the people on either side of us.
I give them instructions that match up with the steps of the dance, because they weren’t wrong about line dancing. Most people who spend any time on the circuit know the classics. There’s always a barn dance or a party at a dive bar at the end of each evening. For the life of me, I don’t know why the hell people like line dancing so much, but they do.
I’m pretty good, if I do say so myself.
“You’re terrible at this,” Laurel tells me with a giggle toward the end of the song, cutting me off at the knees when I was so impressed by my own skill. “Are you sure you’re a cowboy?”
“I’m a bull rider,” I clarify. “Not a dancer.”
She grins up at me. She lost a tooth last week and shoves her tongue into the gap. I have to admit, it’s cute as hell.
When the song ends, I step off the parquet tiles laid to form the dance floor. I’m not getting sucked into another dance. “The reception is going to be winding down soon. Let’s find your mom and see if she needs help with cleanup.”
They each grab one of my hands, and we weave through the tables and out of the tent until we find Molly standing with the bride and groom under the light of the stars.
“This was perfect,” the woman says, practically glowing with newlywed bliss. “I’ll have our photographer send everything over, and you’re welcome to use whatever photos you want on your website.”
“We’d be happy to give you a testimonial or be a reference for other clients, too,” the groom adds.
“I’m not to that point yet,” Molly says, but I can hear the excitement in her voice.
“She’ll definitely reach out.” I give Molly a pointed look, and she nods to the couple, her eyes sparkling. She needs to remember that she kicked ass tonight. She’s been kicking ass, and there’s no doubt in my mind that’s going to continue.
The bride hugs her, then turns her attention to Luke and Laurel.
“Thank you both for your help and for getting the party started on the dance floor. A good reception needs that.”
