“Last time you said that, you straddled my lap on the bike and molested me.”
“Poor baby.” Grinning mischievously, I press play on the stereo and flick my wrist above my head to the mellow, catchy beat of Uptown Funk.
I choreographed an easy-to-learn line dance to this song, using a variation of the electric slide, with fun booty shakes and sexy hip twists. The dance sequence is the tits, if I do say so myself, and Cole’s going to be my first victim.
I move into the taped-out section on the floor in the dining hall and raise my voice to the crowd of two hundred. “Hi, I’m Danni. When you’re finished eating, come on over. I’ll teach you the steps.”
Then I turn to Cole and crook my finger.
He shakes his head, less in defiance and more because he thinks I’m crazy. Maybe I am. But he’s already on his way over here to be crazy with me.
Shrugging off his jacket, he tosses it next to mine and rolls his neck. Someone catcalls from the crowd, and I laugh because that was definitely a man’s whistle.
“I think you have an admirer.” I wink at Cole.
“We already exchanged numbers.” He prowls around me, wearing a straight expression. “He promised me a special evening tonight.”
“Good for you, but first, you’re gonna groove with me.”
“Nuh uh.” He taps my lips. “First, you’re gonna say the magic word.”
I put my hands on my hips and inject some attitude into my voice. “Please?”
He closes his eyes and inhales deeply. “I’m imagining you doing something completely and wildly inappropriate while panting that word.”
I smack his rock-solid abs, making his eyes blink open and his mouth bow in an adorable dimpled grin.
“I’m going to show you the steps.” I move into position. “Focus on my feet. Then I’ll help you move your hips.”
At his nod, I travel through the routine, sliding right then left, easing into an oscillating descent toward the floor while shaking my backside. Another hop, a twist, with a hip tilt and lift. Add in some arm movements, and bam! This is my jam.
As I repeat the steps, I glance over my shoulder and narrow my eyes.
The pervert isn’t watching my feet. His hooded gaze is fixated on my rear.
“Cole.” I snap my fingers until he lifts his head. “Do you have it?
“No.” He rubs the back of this neck. “But I want it. The way those pants stretch across your ass…”
Oh for the love. I slip in front of him, pressing in with my butt brushing his groin. “Do what I do, okay?”
His hands instantly fall to my hips. Perfect. I wait for the song to restart, give it a few counts, then we’re moving.
It’s clumsy at first. His boots are too bulky. His legs are too long, and he seems nervous and uncomfortable. But after a few iterations, he starts to get the hang of it. He might not be a dancer, but he has rhythm, and he’s never afraid to let loose with me, no matter who’s watching or where we are.
Once he has the steps memorized, I swing around and move in behind him. With my hands on his hips, it’s my turn to study his backside.
I nuzzled and licked every inch of him during those ten months we spent together. But I’m an ass girl, and that round firm part of Cole’s body is mac-a-licious, like a honey bun. I want to nibble, munch, and sink in my teeth, passively or carnally. Any manner of biting would do. Because I’m hungry.
Focus, you hussy.
I shimmy up against his back, guiding his hips with the grind of mine. I try to keep it PG-rated, but Cole has other ideas. Ideas that involve his hands roaming along my faux-leather leggings and reaching back to cup my butt.
Spinning away, I dance around him, sharing his smile and savoring the ripple of his muscles as he adds extra gyrations to the routine.
If I ever decide to become a full-time line dancer, I’m totally going to hire him. His charisma and energy is contagious. People are already congregating along the edge of the dance floor, nodding their heads to the beat.
I wave them closer and spot Aubrey, the little girl from the bakery, hovering in the crowd.
Holding my arms over my head, I boogie toward her.
“You want to try it?” I hold out a hand. “I’ll teach you.”
She glances back at her dad, who sits at a nearby table, holding the little dog. Returning to me, she bobs her head and smiles.
That smile… Despite everything this little girl has been through and the hard road she faces ahead, she manages a smile that’s pure and genuine, and that is why I come here.
She curls her tiny fingers around mine, and for the next hour, she stays at my side, laughing with me, dancing with me. It’s a moment of mindless joy, one I hope she hangs onto when life feels impossible.
When she starts to yawn, I lead her back to her parents and bend down to whisper in her ear. “Whenever you feel sad, do a little dance. Shake it out.”
She purses her lips, looking skeptical.
“That’s what I do.” I shrug. “It always makes me feel better.”
“Okay.” She climbs onto her mom’s lap and snuggles in.
“Thank you.” Holly runs a hand over Aubrey’s head. “For all of this. I can’t express how much—”
“You’re welcome.” I give her a watery grin and turn away to find Rick watching me from the other side of the room. So I head that way.
Cole seems to have everything under control on the dance floor, guiding thirty-some women effortlessly through the dance. Their ages range from late teens to grannies, and they all follow him with googly, heart-shaped eyes.
I share their fascination. Over six-feet of rough-and-ready brawn clad in a white t-shirt and frayed jeans, he exudes coarse intimidation. But that warm light in his eyes softens his gruff bearing, makes him approachable, magnetic, and oh-so handsome. So insanely handsome, in fact, it’s impossible to look away.
“I like him,” Rick says as I approach.
“He has that effect on people.” I smile as Cole reaches out to steady the middle-aged woman shuffling beside him.
“What are you going to do, Danni?” Rick crosses his arms and lifts a hand to smooth his gray mustache.
“That’s the million-dollar question.” I sigh. “Got any priestly advice?”
“You love them both?”
“Is that wrong?”
“No, not wrong. But God’s plan for marriage is one man for one woman. Otherwise, He would’ve created more Adams for Eve.” He gives me a sympathetic smile. “You’ll have to choose one and set the other one free to find his own wife.”
I won’t correct him on his religious views of marriage, but if I believed in a god, that god would accept all variations of genders and sexual orientations in a relationship. I do, however, agree with him on one thing.
“I know I need to choose.” I hug my waist and lift a hand to clutch my dry throat.
“Take some time and truly assess your feelings for both of them. You’ll find that you really love and have more of a connection with one of them.”
“That’s the plan.”
“Until then, prepare yourself for double the highs, double the lows. A relationship with one person is a lot of work. But with two?” He pats my back and stares at me like a father would a daughter. “I don’t envy you, young lady.”
“Yeah.” I chuckle, and it sounds more like a groan. “Thanks.”
“Anytime you need to talk, you know where to find me.”
“I appreciate that.”
I return to the dance floor, giving Cole a reprieve to sit and watch. And watch he does, reclined in a chair, legs spread, and eyes like liquid fire as he devours every move of my body.
His face is hard, cut in a lethal way that conjures seedy hotel rooms, guns in his hands, and a cigarette perched between his lips. I don’t know what his job looks like, but as I watch him watch me, I realize he’s probably a very dangerous man. Not dangerous to me. But I have a gut feeling he’s killed people, and I don’t know how to process that.
So I do what I always do and let the music eclipse my thoughts. I shake and twirl and move in sync with dozens of smiling people who have very little to smile about.