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She gives me an innocent expression. "Visiting my best friend. And Carla made me wear this dress. It's hers."

"What were you going to wear?"

"Jeans. Just like last year. Although I was at home then."

"I'm sure you'd look just as sexy in those."

Her face flushes.

I keep my voice light and let my hand press just a touch firmer at her waist. "Why come out this year instead of staying home?"

She's quiet a second, considering the question or considering me, I can't tell which. Then she answers, "I got tired of watching everybody else's life move while mine sat still. Figured maybe it was time to actually do instead of just talking about it."

"And how's that working out for you so far?"

The corner of her mouth curls, slow and reluctant, like she's fighting it. "Ask me again after midnight."

"Oh, I plan to."

The song winds down for good, way too quick. The band announces they're taking a short break before ringing in the new year proper, and the dance floor starts clearing out around us in a scatter of laughter and boots. I don't let go of her hand. "Come on. Let me buy you that next round before Troy gets any more ideas about stealing your evening."

She laughs. "Troy's interested in Carla, not me."

"Troy's interested in whoever's standing closest and will drink the tequila. Don't take my comment personal." I lead her back toward the bar, keeping her hand tucked in mine the whole way, not particularly caring who notices, though plenty do, including Shelby Ann. Her eyes narrow from across the room. And Casey behind the bar lifts an eyebrow my way like she's already placing bets on how this plays out.

Carla's waiting for us, practically vibrating with delight, a fresh drink already in each hand like she ordered ahead, knowing exactly how this will go. She looks between us, "Well? How was the dance?"

"Educational," Lainey says.

"Life-changing," I say, at the exact same time.

Carla's grin turns wicked. "I take it back. This is the best New Year's Eve of my life."

"I think it's mine, too," I tell her, still not looking away from Lainey.

"Nobody has to. I've got eyes." Carla shoves a fresh ranch water into Lainey's hand, then she warns, "Behave yourself, Jagger."

"When have I ever?"

She gives me a look that's equal parts warning and pure, unfiltered glee. "Exactly my point."

Lainey laughs, easy and unguarded, and something settles low and certain in my belly. It's the kind of feeling I don't usually let myself sit with this early, and never this fast. I've watched enough of my own family tangle themselves up in wanting the wrong things too quickly. I know better than to trust a feeling like this on a dance floor after one song and a handful of bad jokes.

Yet when I look at her flushed face, glass in hand, and hair falling loose from wherever it started at the beginning of the night, she's not just a challenge. Underneath all the noise of the bar, the band gearing back up, and the clock ticking down toward midnight, there are only two thoughts in my head.

I'm not going anywhere near behaving myself tonight.

I want to see her again.

I lean against the bar beside her, close enough that our shoulders brush, and she doesn't move away. "You've got till midnight to decide if that dance was a fluke or if you're planning on giving me a real shot."

She bites her lip, then fires back, "That's an awfully specific deadline."

"I work well under pressure."

"I'm starting to think you work well under all conditions."

"Only when the company's worth it." I catch her eye and hold it so she can see I mean it and hopefully decide what she wants to do about it. Then I add, "And so far, sweetheart, the company's been worth every bit of it."