“Okay, who taught mountain man how to dance?” I asked Brie.
“Mom insisted we both take lessons growing up. Said it was a life skill.” Brie grinned. “Though I think Noah secretly enjoyed it more than he let on.”
Noah twirled another scout under his arm with gentleness and grace, then caught our eyes over the crowd. His expression shifted to mild panic as more girls joined the circle. He mouthed “help me” toward Brie with pleading eyes.
“Looks like your brother needs backup,” I said, expecting Brie to be the one to go do the rescuing.
But before I could protest, Brie grabbed my hand and pulled me into the fray. “Come on!” The scouts cheered as we joined their circle, but Brie had other plans. She smoothly maneuvered through the group, then gave me an unexpected push that sent me stumbling right into Noah.
“Your turn!” Brie announced, sweeping several disappointed scouts away with her. “Let’s give them some space, girls!”
Noah’s hands caught my waist to steady me, and suddenly we were standing chest to chest in the middle of the dance floor. The band transitioned into a slower song, as if on cue.
“Sorry about my sister,” Noah said, but didn’t let go. “She thinks she’s clever.”
“Well, you did ask for help.” I placed my hand on his shoulder, falling into the proper dance position without thinking. “Though I’m not sure this counts as a rescue.”
Noah’s arm curved around my waist as we fell into step with the music, the singer’s voice carrying across the square with a slight country twang.
My breath caught as Noah drew me closer, his other handwarm against mine. The calluses on his palm brushed my fingers, reminding me of the strength hidden beneath his gentle touch. He moved with the same fluid grace he showed on mountain trails and climbing walls, leading me through the steps without hesitation.
“You really are full of surprises,” I said, looking up at him. The string lights cast a soft glow across his features, softening the usual sharp angles of his face.
“Could say the same about you.” His voice dropped low, meant only for me. “I thought you said you couldn’t dance?”
“When did I say that?”
“At the river. When Diego was trying to get you to salsa.”
“I didn’t say I can’t dance; I said I don’t dance. You’re not the only one with a mother who insisted on dance lessons.”
The now-familiar scent of pine and coffee clung to his shirt. Noah adjusted his grip, thumb brushing the small of my back. His touch sent electricity down my spine, and I found myself leaning into him without meaning to.
As the music swelled, Noah spun me in a perfect turn before pulling me back. When I returned to his arms, we were even closer than before. His eyes met mine, deep blue in the twilight, and the rest of the festival seemed to fade away.
The music slowed, and the final notes of the song hung in the air between us. Noah’s hand slid up my back, steady and sure. My heart thundered against my ribs as he bent his head toward mine, close enough that I could feel his breath ghost across my lips.
Everything else fell away.
Just Noah and I.
Face to face.
He leaned closer still …
Buzzzz … Buzzzz … Buzzzz …
My phone vibrated in my pocket. I ignored it, lost in themagnetic pull of Noah’s gaze. His fingers traced a path up my spine that made me shiver despite the warmth of his embrace.
The phone buzzed again. And again. The persistence of it shattering the perfect moment like a pickaxe on an icy lake.
“You should probably get that,” Noah said, his lips still close enough that I could feel his breath on my cheek.
I pulled back just enough to fish out my phone, already regretting the movement. Marcus’s name flashed across the screen, along with three missed calls and an urgent text:
Marcus Wiles:
VICTORIA NEEDS TO TALK
