“How does this feel?”
She frowns. “Weird. I don’t see how I’m going to get the leverage to throw it.”
“That’s because you’re standing all wrong.” Sliding in even closer behind her, I rest my other hand on her hip. It’s impossible to ignore the way she trembles at my touch.
Or the way my body instantly coils at the feel of her so close.
Kiss her.
It’s not the first time the thought has occurred to me. The first was about ten years ago at one of Winter’s birthday parties. But I’d quickly shaken off the idea then.
Now, it’s not such an easy thought to dismiss.
You could cut the sexual tension between us with an ax. The way she’s still breathing shallowly tells me she feels it too.
For a second I close my eyes and breathe in deeply, filling my lungs with her sweet scent.
I don’t know what it is about Sophie, but I want to know more about her. Not just her touch. But everything she’s thinking.
That’s dangerous territory. Maybe even more dangerous than throwing axes at a bar.
I open my eyes and clear my throat. “Okay, let’s do this.”
FIVE
SOPHIE
The next night, unshed tears burn the backs of my eyes as I watch Winter and Slate glide over the dance floor in the center of a heart-shaped spotlight as a nod to their love and the holiday weekend.
If anyone in this world deserves to dance away happily ever after, it’s Winter.
Cliff silently slides into his sister’s empty chair next to me. Ever since our ax throwing lesson yesterday, I haven’t been able to think straight.
Everywhere I look, I think about him. Remember the spark that flowed through me when our arms brushed.
Furiously blinking my eyes, I straighten in my seat. “They look so happy.”
He nods and casually rests his arm across the back of my chair. It’s not exactly like he’s wrapped his arm around my shoulders. My spine still tingles at the closeness of his almost touch.
“You gave a nice speech earlier.”
He makes another grunt, and I can’t help but grin. Considering he communicates like a caveman most of the time, his toast was all the more impressive. He was always this quiet, but becoming a mountain man seems to have only escalated that.
Though he only spoke for a minute, the words he chose were effective. He talked about Winter’s big heart and her capacity for love. He talked about the way she made people her family, a point I know all too well.
By the time he said he was proud to be her brother, and that he was honored to stand in the place of their father, there wasn’t a dry eye in the audience.
But, it seems, he used up all of his words earlier.
Which makes it all the more surprising when he says, “What do you say?”
I cast him a sidelong glance. “About what?”
“Want to get out there?”
My eyes grow wide. “You want to dance?”
“Not particularly.”
