We danced closer. I admired the dimple on his chin. It was even sexier than my costumed cutie’s dimple, I decided, although quite similar.
Not that I should be comparing stuff like that.
It just was hard not to notice, since we kept inching together, my desire rising.
The song ended, and everyone cheered. With the break in the music, I realized that our feet were touching and that I could smell his scent.
We danced our way through another song, lingering closer and closer, but barely touching. When the band finished up, it was clear the grooms were all eager to get to bed, and I was glad for the excuse to call it a night. It had been an exhausting day, and I could imagine Izzy was as worn out as I was.
Plus, if we kept dancing like that in front of everyone, my moms were going to have a million invasive questions at breakfast.
* * *
Izzyand I drove down the little dirt road, following directions to the cabin that had been arranged for us. It was dark away from the main hall, and with the windows down, the night breeze was cool and refreshing.
“I can’t remember the last time I went dancing,” Izzy said, his eyes out the window. “That was fun.”
“I have to dance in public twice a year, at events for Silver Lining. It was nice to do it without a bunch of clients watching.”
“That reminds me, how is the Instagram post doing?”
I pulled up to the cabin and threw the Subaru in park, then grabbed my phone. “Let’s see. A bunch of likes and a comment from Leo that’s way too enthusiastic. That’s good, I guess.”
We stepped out of the car. The log cabin was nestled into the hillside, with a small porch, a pointed green roof, and two big windows. It looked cozy but big enough that we’d have some privacy.
I went to the back and grabbed both of the suitcases. “You’re a good dancer,” I told him. “Cute.”
Izzy glanced at me as we walked to the cabin. “Thanks. You, too.”
Those little compliments alone were enough to make me grin.
“Maybe there’s a good spot in the cabin,” he added, “for another photo.”
Inside, there were definitely good spots, with gorgeous old rugs spread across the wood floor, tall ceilings, and plenty of rustic-chic furniture, scattered all around.
“Oh,” I said as we stepped in. “It’s all one room.”
“Is that the shower?”
Izzy pointed to the corner, where a shower stall sat beside a sink on a section of stone floor. There was a little divider, blocking the view of it off from the kitchen area, but it was still exposed to the open cabin.
I blinked, confused. There was only one bed and, across from it, a couple of loveseats and armchairs. But my biggest question burned so intensely I couldn’t even process the rest of it.
I crossed to the phone, sitting on a nightstand, and dialed the front desk of the facility. “Hi, I’m in Cabin 6. Can you tell me where’s the toilet?”
I looked at Izzy, who appeared actually horrified. For a minute, the person working the desk explained to me the setup of their rustic cabins, which this apparently was.
I hung up. “There’s a private toilet around the back.”
“Oh thank god.” Izzy finally dropped his suitcase. “I can just sleep on one of these loveseats,” he said, gesturing. “You don’t need to put yourself out or anything.”
I frowned. The loveseats were too small for either of us, especially him and his long legs. “Do you want to share the bed? It’s big enough.”
We stared at each other, then both looked at the bed. The need for him to say yes flared. Now that we were away from the crowd, my initial reaction to his cute, geeky hotness came raging back.
“Sure,” Izzy answered. “Thanks.”
My pulse spiked. By the creek and on the dance floor, I’d felt like I should kiss him. And now, I could see that faint blush on his cheeks, tempting me.
