He broke the kiss. “Tastes fine to me.”
“Dance with me?” she asked, not moving.
“Always.” He touched the indent of her mouth with the pad of his index finger.
It was either that or take her to the car, put down the seats in the back, and find a secluded spot to devour each other.
“That’s not entirely true,” she said. Suddenly, it was as though everything but his face held her interest. She didn’t meet his gaze. “The always thing.”
“Then what’s the truth?” he asked. That moonshine sounded like it had been a good idea,given the tone of her words.
“There’s what I thought was the truth and what I realize now is the truth,” she said.
He could relate to that.
They weren’t dancing, yet. They weren’t even touching. But there was only a wink of space separating their bodies. The space seemed to stretch for miles in the silence as Rachel started and stopped, started and stopped.
“Forget about it.” She gave a halfhearted wave of her hand.
Her hand brushed against his chest. He reached for it and held it there.
“I would’ve danced with you before this trip,Rach.” He lifted her hand and kissed the end of each and every one of her fingertips.
“I wouldn’t have danced with you.” Her words were quick. “But I will now. And I’m not really making much sense, so we should just get to it.” She paused for half a beat. “The dancing thing.”
“What you’re trying to say is you didn’t always like me?”
She nodded. Gulped. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Well, the feeling was mutual.” He pulled her to the dance floor. A slow country ballad came through the speakers. He wrapped her in his arms, keeping enough space so he could study her face as she responded. “I know what my problem was. Why didn’t you like me,though?”
“I know better than to listen to what other people say. But Gavin had always talked about you like you were shallow.”
That sounded about right.
“I took his word for it.” She looked up at him from under her lashes. “I shouldn’t have.”
He pulled her closer, because he could. “Tell me about what he said.”
“Which do you want to hear?” she asked, finally meeting his stare.
He wanted to hear anything Rachel was willing to tell him, so he could go about fixing it. Showing her who he really was.
She cleared her throat, swaying with the music. With him.
“You and Gavin don’t get along,” she stated as though it were fact.
They didn’t get along well, this was true. “That’s right. Most of the time.”
She was tracing little ovals along his arms—the bare skin at the edges of his short sleeves. “Why?”
“Different philosophies, I suspect.” Although, in recent years, things had been better between them. They’d kept their relationship to business, and the business was doing well, so there wasn’t much to argue about. Travis didn’t like Gavin’s complete commitment to the company. He wished Gavin would throw that commitment toward his kids. But he’d stayed out of it.
“Why don’t you think we get along?” he asked.
“Gavin always said little things about you in passing.” Rachel lifted her shoulder, just the tiniest of inches.
He stilled for half a second. “What kind of things?”
