I gestured toward myself, striking a sassy pose. “You don’t get to dance with all of this.”
“Oh, no. I’m not letting you off the hook that easy.”
“You heard the judge. That big hairy watermelon monster won. Not you.”
There it was again. The twinge of sadness at the idea of not dancing with Cash. I couldn’t explain it.
I wasn’t in any hurry to make a fool of myself in front of him again. Music was my life. I should have known how to dance, but I didn’t. On a scale of one to ten, my dancing skills ranked somewhere between a chimpanzee with two left feet and zero.
But still, the idea of my body moving in time with Cash’s to the beat of a country song in the open air sent my heart racing.
I took another step back. Unfortunately for my poor sandal, my foot landed in the hollowed-out rind of one of the watermelon quarters my neighbor had chucked to the ground. It rocked beneath me as I stumbled backward.
I sucked in a sharp breath when Cash’s thick arm wrapped around my waist. “I’ve got you.” I couldn’t tell if it was his touch or his words that had my stomach cartwheeling and my head buzzing. Did it matter?
There was that sweet scent again. Whatever it was, it did weird things to my body. My heart raced, my lashes fluttered, and my breath stuttered. Suddenly, it dawned on me. I’d developed a watermelon allergy. It was as simple as that.
There was no way I was in the baby stages of crushing on my neighbor. No. Falling for Cash was a dangerous tumble I wasn’t going to take. We were just going to have a good time this summer. Nothing more.
“Thanks,” I said, expecting him to let me go.
He didn’t.
“I didn’t have to beat the shaggy beard next to you. I only had to beat you, and I did—by nine-and-a-half feet, at least.”
“What? That’s not what we agreed—” The words died on my lips because he was right.
Crud!My brain couldn’t work up a good excuse with his arm still wrapped around me.
I owed him a dance. He was determined to collect. And I couldn’t stop smiling.
CHAPTERFIFTEEN
The scent of smoky barbecue hung in the air, but my stomach was too full to care. “Mind if we hold off on dinner for now? I think I ate too much watermelon.”
“No problem. I know just how to work up an appetite. Come on.” Cash took my hand and pulled me through the crowd, but he didn’t have to pull too hard. The melody hanging in the air drew me to an open space in front of the band stand. Everyone there seemed to be having a great time. I watched as lines of Texans stepped, cross-shuffled, and boot tapped in unison.
I wasn’t usually a country music kind of girl, but I could get used to this.
“You ready?” Cash asked, grinning down at me.
I hesitated. Sure, everyone looked like they were having fun, but there were a lot of steps to remember for someone as dance-challenged as me. “Maybe I’ll just watch for a few minutes.”
“Marinate in the music? Sounds good to me.” Cash turned his back on the dancers, stepped in front of me, and took both of my hands in his.
He pulled me a step or two out of the crowd and toward the dancing, but I put on the brakes before joining the dancers. “I’m really not ready yet. I don’t know… this dance.” Which was true. I didn’t know the steps toanydance, so I certainly didn’t know the steps tothat one.
“Don’t worry. I don’t have any plans to join one of the lines until you’re good and ready, but we need a little space if you’re going to learn anything tonight.” He kept a hold of my hands and locked his gaze onto me. The sun was going down behind me, and its rich, golden light made his hazel eyes sparkle more than should have been legal in polite society. I couldn’t be held responsible for anything I said or did while under their hypnotic stare.
I couldn’t look away.
He knew it.
The right side of his mouth curved into just enough of a smile to tease me into wanting more.
Then what started as a mild shimmy of his shoulders, turned into a full-on groove to the music. He side-stepped in time with the beat, his hold on my hands causing me to feel the rhythm in my body.
“Come on, you know you want to start steppin’.” He dropped my hands, and I jumped when he clapped with the dancers, punctuating a single downbeat in a way that set off fireworks in my stomach. He hooked his thumbs into the belt loops of his faded jeans, swung his hips, and then ran his fingers along the brim of his imaginary cowboy hat, tipping it to me in a way that sent goosebumps racing across my skin.
