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I widen my eyes at him. “Can we just enter the competition as four couples?”

He laughs, clearly enjoying himself and this make-believe dance competition he’s made up on the spot. “I can call and ask.”

“Swing dancing would work,” Lawson says.

“What’s that?” Brewser asks.

“Country swing,” Lawson says. “You could pick a country song and make it fall themed that way.” He looks at me and clearly takes in my surprised look. He shrugs. “Country seems like a barn-party kind of thing. Hayrack rides, and that kind of stuff.”

I burst out laughing. “I was actually following your logic. I was just surprised that you know about country swing dancing.”

“I still don’t think I know what you mean. Show me,” Brewser says.

I open my mouth to protest, but Lawson reaches out and snags my hand, pulling me in, then twirling me and spinning me back out. As a seasoned dancer, I follow easily, letting him pull me back in and settling his hand on my waist, turning me a couple of times in an easy two-step.

Brewser applauds as I stare up at Lawson.

“What?” he asks with a knowing smile.

“You bitch and moan about dancing with the hockey team every time.” I shake my head. “You said you couldn’t dance.”

He laughs. “I never said I couldn’t. I said I didn’t want to. I just told you that my sister grew up dancing. Who do you think she practiced with?”

I already had a huge crush on this guy. Finding out he’s helping take care of one of my favorite people with his new Parkinson’s diagnosis made it worse. Then finding out he had a younger sister made it even worse. Finding out she had a serious medical condition that he helped her with growing up made it even more serious. And now finding out that he dances…I’m a complete goner.

“You know what this means, don’t you?” I ask.

He sighs, but he’s still smiling. “I have a few more dance routines in my future while wearing hockey pads and skates?”

I grin. “Bingo.”

Suddenly Brewser claps his hands together. “Oh, dammit, I forgot there’s somewhere I need to be. I will see you two later. Love you both.”

And before either of us can say a thing, he crosses the living room—without a single sign of any leg weakness or his feet tangling—disappears into the kitchen, and we hear the back door open and shut.

Lawson and I stand staring at each other.

It’s not as if Brewser and the rest of the older gang are subtle, but Brewser might as well have just said that he wanted to leave Lawson and me alone in the house in each other’s arms.

My gaze drops to Lawson’s mouth, and I watch his throat work as he swallows. Then he drops his hold on me and takes a step back.

“I should probably get back to work.”

Right. Work. We both have work. I wasn’t supposed to be over here for this long anyway.

I also need him to leave so I can put the casserole in the refrigerator and the pumpkin cream cheese cookies on the counter.

“Yeah, me too,” I say brightly.

“Are you going to be practicing here with Brewser every day?” Lawson asks.

Well, that’s a very good question. One I will have to make up an answer to, considering this entire thing is made up, and Brewser and I haven’t talked about any of it.

But just then Lawson’s gaze drops to my lips.

A twist of heat winds through me and I hear myself say, “Yeah, I think that would be best.”

What would be best exactly though? That the two of us stand here staring at each other’s mouths?