A server stops by and drops a couple of baskets of fries to the table, and another pitcher of beer.
“I hope you two have been practicing your line dancing,” Georgia teases.
“Nope. But Kit has someamazingmoves, so I’m sure he’ll be fine on the dance floor.” I waggle my brows.
Georgia pouts and flips me off. “I don’t think we need all the details about Kit’s moves.”
Trent’s eyes are wide and Kit chuckles at the exchange. I’m glad to see he’s relaxed and at ease with the gentle teasing.
“Oh, here they come now.” Trent points at the stage as the Collier’s Creek Cowboy Combo enters.
The crowd hoot and cheer as the band members wave at the audience. They’ve been playing here for as long as I can remember and have a huge following.
“Y’all ready for some good ol’ country music?” Georgia asks with a grin, her excitement on par with the rest of the bar.
The band plays—fiddle, banjo, guitar, bass, and drums—and the noise factor and crowd’s energy increases as the song goes on.
“Wow, they’re great.” Kit says. He throws me a grin as he sways to rhythm.
“Right? They’re a local favorite,” I tell him, my own foot tapping along to the beat. “I thought you’d get a kick out of the full country experience, and it seems like I was right.”
He winks. His smile is warm and genuine as we listen to the twang of country tunes and watch the dancing.
A server delivers more food as the band transitions to a ballad, making conversation possible again. We eat—crispy onion rings, golden mozzarella sticks, and steaming hot jalapeño poppers—and talk about everything and nothing. As we joke, Kit’s laughter comes freely and his eyes twinkle. He’s got small crinkles at the corners when he laughs and his whole face lights up.
When our plates are empty, Georgia stands. “Alright, y’all,” she announces. “Let’s show this dance floor what we’re made of!”
“Sounds like a plan.” I’m ready to burn off some of that fried food and haven’t been line dancing in ages. I turn to Kit. “Ready to give it a go?”
“Let’s do it,” he says with a grin, surprising the hell out of me. I expected him to be reluctant, but as we make our way over to join the throng of people already dancing, he looks anything but.
I grab his hand and pull him onto the dance floor. “Come on, let’s join in.”
“Alright, alright.” He laughs as we line up at the back.
“Watch the people in front for the steps, and don’t worry if you mess up. The important thing is to have fun!”
“Got it, boss,” Kit teases, standing beside me to the left with his hands on his hips. “I’m ready when you are.”
I take a deep breath, and give a firm nod, and we’re off.
I go left, and Kit goes right. We come to a halt as we bump each other.
“Hey, you’re a natural!” I shout over the music.
He smirks. “Must be that great teacher of mine.”
We try again, trying to follow the dancers in font. It’s a disaster, but a disaster that has us both in stitches. While Georgia and Trent slip directly in line, moving with the other people on the dance floor, Kit and I trip over each other. Kit’s laughter is infectious as he bends over and holds his stomach, and I’m grinning from ear to ear.
“See? Isn’t this fun?” I ask, my breath coming in short gasps between fits of giggles.
Kit looks at me, his eyes sparkling with happiness, a wide smile across his face. “Yeah, it is.”
As the night winds down, Kit and I exchange glances, silently agreeing that it’s time for us to go. I can’t wait to get home for some alone time. We say our goodbyes to Georgia and Trent and head out into the night.
“Tonight was amazing, Felix,” Kit says as we walk to the parking lot. “I never knew line dancing could be so much fun.”
I laugh. “I’m not sure you’d call what we did line dancing, but I had a great time.”
