She laughed. “Let me show you.”
Her excellent light-hearted instruction made him relax, and soon his feet stepped in rhythm with hers. Laughter bubbled from his chest and he didn’t stop the pleasurable sensations coursing through his body whenever she bumped against him.
Memories from before his father had died came surging through his thoughts. He longed for that carefree life, and especially for the laughter. His mother had forced him to grow up, wiping away any excitement from his existence. Now as he focused on the moment with Brooke, his mind created a new world, one with peace and laughter and nothing but pure enjoyment.
The song ended, and he released her hands. “You’re a great dancer.”
A smile bracketed her mouth. “So are you.”
He chuckled. “I’m a little surprised I still know how. It’s been a while since I danced.”
“Same here. I don’t remember having this much fun since high school.”
“I thought the same thing.”
The next song began, and he slipped his arms around her waist for the slow dance. Her hands wandering up his arms, hooking over his shoulders.
He satisfied himself by gazing into her pretty face, even though her eyes quickly darted elsewhere. He pulled her closer as the words of the song spun around him. The singer’s tenor voice sang about how lonely his world would be if the woman he loved couldn’t be in it.
Brooke had been looking at the floor, but during the instrumental part, she lifted her gaze. Uncertainty flashed in her eyes, lightening them before they darkened. The words must have meant something to her, too.
He held her gaze prisoner as the song continued, talking about how the woman he loved had given him a reason for living since the first time he’d looked in her eyes, and he wouldn’t know what he’d do if she told him goodbye. Suddenly, a lump formed in his throat and his chest constricted. The words hit him like a locomotive, and his mind sped ahead to the day Brooke would leave this cabin. Tomorrow! He quickly said a prayer in his heart that the snow would continue to fall, keeping her with him just a little while longer.
Everything fell into place – his past, his mother’s constant complaining, and especially his doubts about Robin. He’d been more relaxed the last few hours in Brooke’s company than he had been the last few years. They’d only been together for mere hours, but in what little time they’d shared, something was happening between them.
His heart beat in a frantic rhythm, and he just had to kiss her. But it was too soon.
Silently, he growled in frustration and looked up at the ceiling, so her beauty wouldn’t tempt him. Above them, hanging from the ceiling fan, she’d tied a cluster of red Christmas bulbs... and a mistletoe. How fortunate.
Justin glanced at her, her checks aflame as she’d followed his gaze to the mistletoe. Her eyes softened as her gaze lowered to his lips. He took this as a sign that the time was right. Bringing his mouth down to hers, he brushed it across her full lips, electrified by the softness.
He pulled away just enough to see her reaction, giving her a chance to turn him down, but her eyes were closed. So, gathering her tighter in his hold, he placed his mouth on hers once again.
Keeping the kiss gentle, he tried to familiarize himself with the shape of her lips. He’d already guessed she’d been hurt before, so he took the kiss slow and meaningfully. She met his tender pecks, and against his chest, the rhythm of her heart met his. Her hands kneading his shoulders soothed him. When her body relaxed, his desire climbed a notch higher.
He deepened the kiss and her body stiffened. Without warning, she pressed the heels of her hands against his chest and stepped away. A pale face stared back at him with wide, frightened eyes. Her body trembled.
He reached for her. “Brooke—”
“I’m sorry, Justin, but I can’t let you do that to me.”
She remained stiffly standing, and he waited for her to explain herself. Instead, she spun on her heels and fled into the nearest bedroom, slamming the door. Upon hearing the confirming click of the door’s lock, his hopes deflated.
Once again, he’d made the wrong decision. But this time, it hurt more than the others.
