Futility and longing clawed at him.
“You like Finley, don’t you?” Dakota asked.
She’d caught him staring. “No,” he lied.
“I’d be the happiest girl in the world if you didn’t like me as much as you don’t like her.”
He remained silent.
“Finley’s awesome,” she said. “If she’s into you—”
“She isn’t.”
“—then I think you could be amazing together. How about we dance over to them and then you cut in? I’ll occupy Derek while you talk with Finley.”
The song concluded. A few seconds later, “Unchained Melody” began.
“Fine.” At the least, her plan would temporarily separate Derek from Finley. He took Dakota in his arms and expertly moved them across the dance floor until he tapped on Derek’s shoulder. “I’m cutting in.” No way was he going to ask the clown for permission.
“By all means,” Derek said good-naturedly. He let go of Finley and began dancing with Dakota.
Without a word, Luke drew Finley’s body against his. As they swayed together, he bent his head toward her hair, which smelled of shampoo. Her dress was as light and thin as air. Her waist, defined and feminine.
This was the best kind of torture.
“You can dance,” she said with surprise.
“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.”
“And whose fault is that? I’d like to know you.”
“Trust me, you don’t.”
She met his gaze, eyes narrowed. “Yes, I do. In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been trying very hard to know you.”
He’d been angry since he’d gotten here. Irrationally, he was pleased to see evidence that she was angry, too.
Keeping ahold of her hand, he led her off the dance floor and out of the tent. He followed a brick path that curved through flower beds and past trees until they came to a fence at the farthest corner of the backyard. Landscape lighting made the place feel like a king’s garden.
She pulled her hand from his.
“You’re upset,” he said.
“I merely told you that I’ve been trying very hard to know you. Which, by the way, is perfectly true.”
“I can tell by your expression that you’re upset.”
“No.”
“Yes. Why?”
She rubbed her hands against her upper arms. Winter nights in the mountains held an icy edge.
In one motion, he stripped off his sweater, which left only the white, long-sleeved shirt he wore beneath. “Here.” Most of the evening, his sweater and his train of thought had combined to make him feel almost overheated. He welcomed this temperature change.
“I can’t take your sweater.”
“Please.” He held it closer to her. “There’s no reason for you to be upset and cold at the same time.”
