My face instantly heats up, and I’m pretty sure my entire neck is glowing now. Damn it. I shake my head, trying to shove the blush down. Yeah, he’s totally winning this round. “Behave yourself! We’re at a wedding, for crying out loud.”
“With you around? Not a chance.”
I roll my eyes, but that damn smile’s already pulling at the corner of my lips, giving me away. “Well? Are you going to teach me how to do this dance everyone’s throwing themselves into, or what?”
His brows shoot up. He looks totally thrown off, like Ijust asked him to teach me how to juggle flaming swords. “You…want to dance. With me?”
“Oh, please, Callan. I’m an American woman standing next to a man in a kilt. You’re lucky I haven’t gone feral yet.”
There. NowI’mwinning.
His deep, hearty laugh fills the air, and I swear, my stomach flips. Like, itliterallyflips. And all I can think about is how badly I want to hear that laugh again. And again. And again.
“Aye,” he says, “but you might regret it.”
I raise a brow, pretending to give it some thought. “Oh, I doubt that. How bad could it be?”
He smirks, and I can practically see the mischief dancing in those eyes of his. “Well, Sunshine, there’s more to it than you think.”
I step a little closer, the air between us suddenly charged. “Then show me, Callan. I’m ready for it.”
Wait. Hold up. Are westilltalking about dancing? Because the way his eyes just darkened? Oh, god. Yeah, we might’ve just crossed into a whole different territory.
He slides his hand into mine, and the heat from his touch shoots straight up my arm, lighting me up in a way I definitely wasn’t prepared for. He sets my champagne aside and, with that smirk still in place, says, “All right then, let’s see what you’ve got.”
I follow him onto the dance floor. Everyone else is already spinning and stepping to the lively Scottish tune, looking way more graceful than I could ever hope to be. I’m pretty sure my limbs are about as coordinated as a baby deer on ice.
Callan pulls me close, his hand settling on my waist, the other still holding mine like he doesn’t plan on letting go anytime soon. And suddenly, the rest of the world falls away. I hear the music, feel his touch, and all I can think about is how this might be the most dangerous game I’ve ever agreed to play.
“It’s called a ceilidh dance,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my ear. “Just follow my lead.”
Okay, sure. Following his lead sounds simple enough, but then we start moving, and I quickly realize I amcompletelyout of my depth. The steps are fast, way quicker than I thought, and way more intricate. Definitely not the slow swaying I’m used to. It’s like we’re on fast-forward, and I’m trying to catch up. I stumble a couple of times, but every time I do, Callan’s arms are right there, supporting me, keeping me from making a complete fool of myself.
“Sorry!” I laugh, the heat rising in my cheeks. But honestly? I’m not that embarrassed. This iswaytoo much fun, and Callan’s just rolling with it. I’ve probably trampled his shoes more than a dozen times, but he doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest.
He flashes me a grin that lights up his whole face and makes my brain short-circuit. I forget how to breathe for a second, and I force myself to focus. Then he leans in just a little, and his voice drops to that low, smooth tone that has absolutely no business doing what it does to me. My heart races, and I’m pretty sure my panties are packing their bags and making a run for it.
Nice try, body. Keep it together.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “I’m pretty sure my feet can handle it.”
We keep moving, and soon enough, I stop worrying about the steps, or let’s be real, the absolute mess I’m making of this dance. Instead, I focus on the way his thumb brushes over my knuckles and the sound of his laughter, which is doing absolutely nothing to slow my heart down.
When the song finally ends, I’m breathless from all the dancing and laughing, and I can’t help the smile that spreadsacross my face. It’s the kind of smile you can’t shake, no matter how much you try to act cool about it.
Callan rests his hands on his hips, trying to look casual, but there’s that smirk creeping up on his lips. “Looks like you’ll have to start training to keep up with me, lass. I’m starting to think you enjoy stepping on my toes.”
“Only because you look so good when you’re trying to hold me up,” I tease, and that smirk on his face turns into a full-on grin.
He takes my hand again, that confident, easy grip of his sending a jolt through me as he leads me off the dance floor. “Come on, Sunshine. Let’s get you something to drink.”
“I think I’ve earned more than just a drink,” I say, quirking my brow. “How about a medal for my amazing dance skills?”
He chuckles as he guides me toward the bar. “I’ll get you a drink, and we’ll talk about that medal later.”
With our drinks in hand, we slip away to a quiet spot. I settle into a chair, taking a sip and letting out a contented sigh. The atmosphere is a little more peaceful here, away from all the chatter and clinking glasses. My eyes wander over to where Knox is spinning Juliette around with so much joy that it’s contagious. I’ve missed seeing her smile like this. Pure happiness is written on her face, and it’s impossible not to feel a little lighter just being around it.
“It’s great to see them like this, aye?” Callan says, his voice quiet, the usual teasing gone.
