“Don’t tell me you’re leaving already,” he said finally, that slight Boston accent more pronounced.
“I was thinking about it.”
“Not into the band?”
“Not into the crowd I guess.” She attempted a smile. “Did you just get here?”
He rubbed at the back of his neck. “I hadn’t planned on coming.”
“Why did you change your mind?”
“The house was too quiet.” He paused. “Is Candy looking after Taco?”
“No. I stopped in after work to let him out, but I should head back. He drinks a lot of water when he’s alone and I’m sure he’s crossing all four paws right about now.”
Just then, the band broke into a cover of “Hotel California,” a song full of minor notes — a melancholy feel. Goosebumps broke out across her skin when she glanced up at Gus. Her stomach turned over, and she felt silly, like a fifteen-year-old schoolgirl whose crush just noticed her.
“I like this one.” Gus’s voice was husky.
“I’ve always loved it too,” she admitted.
“Dance with me.” He held out his hand and waited.
“Oh, I don’t . . . I should get back.” Panic bloomed in her chest, making it hard to breathe.
“You don’t dance?” he prodded, a slow smile crept across his face. “I find that hard to believe.”
“I do, but . . .”
“You don’t want to dance with me.”
“No,” she replied quickly. Too quickly. His smile deepened, and her cheeks were on fire.
“Then what?”
Her lips were dry, and she licked them, wondering if he could hear her heart damn near beating out of her chest. It filled her ears. Drowned out the music.
“Dance with me,” he said again. “If you want to.”
Her eyes fell to his hand, still outstretched. Inches from her body. She couldn’t make her mouth work. Couldn’t form the words.
“It’s not complicated. Just a yes or no answer.”
She wanted to dance with him. She wanted more than that if she were being truthful.
“Only a dance, Faith. Nothing more.” His dark eyes smoldered, and something close to desire skittered across her skin. She was hot. Anxious. And a bunch of other emotions that she wasn’t entirely sure he was responsible for.
The sad truth was that Faith was lonely. And maybe a bit horny.No, she thought, drawing in some air. She wasa lothorny. But was he the man to take off the edge?
It’s just a dance. Don’t make a thing out of it.
She placed her hand in his. It looked tiny. And when his arms slowly drew her against his body, she found herself holding her breath. At that moment, she felt so much. It was more than attraction — that part was obvious. It was need and want. It was a connection on a different level than anything she’d experienced before.
It made her think that maybe she’d dodged a bullet with Declan. Maybe she’d settled and was better off without him.
“Relax,” he whispered, his breath warm against her cheek.
“I just,” she stumbled over her words. “I’m tired I think.”
