“Yes.” My shoulders sagged with relief at not having to think. I managed a tired smile for the server. “And whatever pale ale you’d recommend.”
“Coming right up.” The server left with our order, only to return a few moments later with my beer.
I took a long, bracing sip. “Walking was a good idea. Definitely a night for a beer.”
“You earned it.” Carson’s soft eyes were far more understanding than I deserved, and I had to look away.
My attention landed on the dancefloor, where an energetic hostess was leading a small group of patrons in a line dance with mixed results. Earlier, I’d noted what seemed to be several same-sex couples among the diners, a suspicion confirmed by two men dancing closer together than strictly friendly. A wistful sigh escaped my chest before I could stifle it.
“Go.” Carson gestured at the dancers. “Join them.”
My feet twitched. On the dancefloor, a woman stumbled, laughing her way through what was clearly her first time line dancing.
“Only if you give it a try,” I said to Carson, making my voice a pleading tease. A few of the dancers were touching, making my request more reasonable. Just two friends, sharing some burgers and fun.
“Two left feet.” Carson scowled, but his tone left some wiggle room for me to give a comical pout before he held up his hands. “Fine. Fine. Warned you.”
He followed me over to the dancefloor, where another song had begun. I deliberately simplified my movements as we followed the leader, who wore sparkly jeans and a glossy pink grin. Carson gave a self-conscious chuckle, but he made a decent attempt at dancing, far more adept than the two tipsy women to our right. The longer the song went on, the more comfortable Carson seemed, limbs loosening and smile widening. My stress rolled away, lost to the music and mood boost from dancing.
This had been a stellar idea. However, right as I was ready to dance all night, the song shifted into a slower two-step, and couples started pairing up.
“Food’s up.” Carson couldn’t hide the relief in his eyes as he gestured toward our booth.
Neither of us brought up the dancing as we dug into our burgers and fries. I let the conversation be mainly about the food and the horses as the meal passed amicably. We had a playful tussle over the check, which I won.
“Ready to go?” Carson asked as I pocketed my wallet.
“Yeah.” My attention had drifted back to the dancefloor, making my voice distracted. Another slow song floated over the restaurant, and more dancers had made their way onto the floor. The couples were mainly mixed, but I counted two pairs of women and another made up of two men. Longing swept through me, but slow dancing would almost undoubtedly be one step too far for Carson. Reluctantly, I stood.
“You wanna?” Carson pointed at the dancefloor, evidently picking up on the direction of my thoughts. I prepared my denial, but before I could speak, he took a few steps in that direction. “Come on.”
“What?” I frowned even as I followed him. “Thought you weren’t out.”
“I’m not.” He gave a far-too-easy shrug. “No one I know here.”
“Fair enough.” I wasn’t stupid enough to turn his offer down. If he were willing to try waltzing with me despite an aversion to dance, I was at least going to enjoy the moment.
We arrived at the edge of the dancefloor near a pillar, and Carson gazed expectantly up at me. “You lead.”
And so I did, taking his hand in mine and keeping a respectful distance between us. The song was a familiar ballad, so I moved easily into a classic box step. Carson kept up for the first few notes, then frowned as he shuffled, avoiding a stumble, but clearly not used to following either.
“Sorry.” He pursed his lips, glaring down at his boots. “My feet hate my brain.”
“You’re fine.” I stopped trying to waltz and settled into a simpler sway, more reminiscent of high school dances, but with the side benefit of bringing us closer together. “And this is perfect.”
Carson snorted, but he relaxed into my grip nevertheless. Which was indeed perfect, no exaggeration needed. I liked dancing, but dancing with Carson felt extra-special, charged with possibility and enhanced by our growing friendship.
Heck.My grip tightened slightly at the reminder that we were friends first and foremost. Carson might be indulging my love of dancing, but that didn’t mean a license to take advantage of his kindness. Accordingly, as the song ended, I released him with a smile.
“Thank you.” I took a determined step toward the exit. No use in pushing my luck or my restraint. “We can walk back now.”
“Okay.” Carson followed easily, seemingly unchanged by the dance. And he likely wasn’t. He’d made a nice gesture for a friend who’d had a bad day, nothing more.
We walked back to the hotel, the silence feeling extra potent. Hell if I knew what to talk about, though, my usual gift of chatterfailing me. The quiet grew more awkward as we arrived back at the hotel and brought our bags to our room.
Two beds as I’d requested, but the space seemed small and devoid of air as the door shut behind us. The night stretched in front of us, Carson’s nearness almost more than I could bear.
“Movie?” Carson claimed the bed opposite the TV and picked up the remote. He didn’t appear nearly as rattled as I was, for which I was grateful. One of us on edge was more than enough.
