My heart was treading dangerous ground.
But my fingers slipped across his callused palm, unable to refuse. “I’d love to.”
He clasped my fingers and lifted his left hand while his right palm found the back of my ribcage. His hands were warm and confident, melting me. I pulled closer to him, my knee accidentally knocking into his. I whispered, “Sorry.”
Jesse launched into a box step pattern that matched the walking rhythm of the song, and I moved with him as if we’d practiced before.
“I’m a little rusty.” He said, his voice quiet so we could still hear the music. “Been a long time.”
“You’re doing fine.”
“So are you.”
I looked up at him, needing to keep the conversation going. “Who taught you to dance?”
“My mom, actually.”
“That’s sweet.”
“My parents host a community dance on their farm every summer. So we grew up with it.”
I beamed. “Seriously? That’s so fun.”
“It is.” His steps grew a little more confident. “I take Cade every year.”
“Back to Oklahoma?”
He nodded. “Yep. Beginning of August we go to Oklahoma and stay with my folks for two weeks. We go to the barn dance, help my family with the corn, rope my in-laws cows, see old friends, and stay up too late with Cade’s cousins. Laurel’s family celebrates her birthday on August 9th so we always go to that, too.”
“I’m sure that’s bittersweet.”
He gave a soft laugh. “Mostly bitter, actually, but seeing family is sweet.”
I accidentally missed a step. “I’m sorry. That was an insensitive thing for me to say.”
His hand on my back tightened. “No, it wasn’t.” He adjusted hissteps so we realigned. “I’m so used to people not knowing what to say, and trust me, you haven’t been insensitive one single time.”
We danced in silence for a few moments, our feet scuffing against the dirt floor. “It sounds like you have a good relationship with her family still.”
“Yeah, I do. They’re good people. I worked on their beef ranch as a teenager so we go way back.”
I wondered what teenaged, cow-chasing, sun-soaked Jesse was like. The mental image made me smile.
“I’m sorry I keep talking about myself,” he whispered.
“Don’t be. Maybe you needed to talk.”
“I think so. Thank you.” He smiled down at me and my heart tripped. “Tell me about you.”
My steps became less confident. “There’s nothing very noteworthy about me.”
“Nonsense. I know you need your coffee dessert-caliber in the afternoon.”
I gave an abrupt laugh.
“And you live in Colorado.”
“Denver.”
