Page 56 of Break Out

“Who cares.” I reach for her hand, gently tugging on it, hoping she’ll come with me. “I want to dance with you, Aubs,” I whisper, leaning down to press my lips against hers briefly. She inhales shakily but finally stands and takes my outstretched hand. I lead us toward the dance floor and pull her into me as we start to sway.

What the hell am I doing?

I don’t dance. Especially not when there’s no one else dancing. But it felt right when I asked her. Like everything else we’ve done together these last few days. I regret nothing. The only thing I regret is not doing these things with her sooner.

The awkwardness of being the only ones on the dance floor fades as I get lost in the way she feels nestled against my chest. I lean over and capture her lips in a kiss, pulling back before it gets heated because this is not the time nor the place. I’d hate to give her mother more ammunition. I hear rustling next to us and turn my head to see Brielle and Devon joining us on the dance floor. Brielle flashes us a knowing smile before Devon pulls her into his arms and they start swaying.

“We started a trend,” Aubrey whispers a few minutes later as other couples join us.

“See, aren’t you glad I had this idea?” I whisper back. We dance through a few more songs before the string quartet takes a break. I reluctantly let go of Aubrey, and she steps back out of my arms.

“Want to go get a drink with us after this?” Brielle asks as we walk back toward our tables.

Aubrey hesitates, looking at me.

“Sounds good to me,” I say.

“Me too,” Aubrey agrees.

“I haven’t had this much fun in a long time.” Brielle giggles, a few hours later as she leans back against the booth in the hotel bar where the four of us retreated after dinner ended.

“That’s kind of sad,” Aubrey says, draining her glass of wine.

“That’s what happens when you’re a parent.” Brielle giggles again. She’s on her second pina colada, and if I had to guess, definitely feeling it.

“Anyone want another drink?” I ask, finishing the rest of my bourbon in one sip.

“Yes, please,” Aubrey says.

“Just water for us,” Devon says. “If you don’t mind.”

“You got it.” I slide out of the booth and walk over to the bar. The bartender is busy, his back to me, so I lean against the bar waiting my turn.

“Buy me a drink?” I hear next to me. I don’t answer, assuming whoever the woman is she’s talking to someone else, but suddenly a hand lands on my sleeve, and I start. I turn toward the woman who is touching me.

She winks at me before saying, “Buy me a drink, hot stuff.”

“No,” I grind out, attempting to shake her hand off. Why do people think they can touch someone they don’t know without permission?

“Oh, come on,” she purrs, moving closer to me.

“I’m not interested,” I repeat, finally freeing my arm.

“There you are, hunny,” Aubrey says from my other side.

“Hi beautiful,” I say, flashing her a relieved look as she takes my hand in hers.

“Thank you for keeping my fiancé company while I was in the ladies room,” Aubrey says, leaning around me to address the woman on my other side before kissing me.

Her tongue darts out, and I open for her, conscious that we have an audience but not caring. We kiss for far longer than is probably appropriate for the middle of a bar. Distantly, I hear a throat clearing, and I break our kiss to find the bartender staring at us. But the woman who was hitting on me is gone.

“That was hot,” I whisper to Aubrey once I’ve placed our order. What I don’t tell her is how much I liked it when she called me her fiancé.

Aubrey winks.

“What did we think about tonight’s dinner? I for one wasn’t expecting it,” Aubrey asks once we’re back at the table.

Brielle drinks some water before speaking. “Mom wasn’t happy. I had to hear her opinion about how silly the whole thing was. Apparently, she wanted to rent out a restaurant downtown, but Clara refused. Sounded like it was a whole argument.”