Page 43 of The Way We Touch

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Page 43 of The Way We Touch

Garrett makes a motion like he’s slapping an invisible ass in front of him, and waitresses grind on each of his sides.

The entire restaurant is dancing, with some brave souls eating the mac & cheese dish and immediately yelling and shaking their heads. A few of the men run to the side bar where two teenagers are frantically passing out birthday-party-sized cups of vanilla ice cream.

I watch as a guy rips the lid off and holds it directly onto his tongue.

Dylan is bobbing side to side with Kimmie on her hip, her eyes glowing with laughter, and I’m drawn to her like steel to a magnet. Our eyes meet, and I forget about the bodies writhing around me. All I want is her.

She’s the flower, and I’m the bee.

It takes a minute to navigate the impromptu dance floor, but finally I reach her. We’re both smiling and breathing fast, and Kimmie wiggles to get onto the bar with her uncle.

Dylan turns to deposit the child on the counter, and Garrett sweeps her up at once. When she turns back, I reach up to slide a lock of wavy dark hair behind her ear. “Dance with me?”

Her cheeks warm attractively, and damn, I want to lean down and kiss her. Instead, I wrap my arms around her, pulling her soft body close to mine.

She clutches the top of my shoulder, and I have to lean down to spread my hand over her lower back. My other hand clasps hers, and I spin her around, making her laugh.

I wish I was skilled enough to lift her off her feet like Craig did in those old videos, but I’m not. Still, I’m content to hold her this way, her face glowing and my heart expanding in my chest.

It could be fucking Mardi Gras going on around us. All I know is we’re in the middle of the inferno, and I want to do nothing more than melt with her.

“Danger Dylan?” she shouts up to me, arching an eyebrow.

“Isn’t that why Kimmie calls you Deedee?” My hand tightens on her waist, and I love pressing her body against mine.

“No!” Her hand tightens on my shoulder. “I’m not sure why she started calling me that.”

“That’s why.”

“That’s not why!” A push from behind moves us closer to the bar.

It’s impossible to dance the way I want in this ruckus, but I’ve still got her. Her back is to the bar, and I’m leaning down. My nose traces against her hair, and she smells like lavender and vanilla. She feels like heaven.

“Are you hungry?”

Jesus. She has no idea.

Pressing my lips together, I don’t say what I’m thinking, even if it would go nicely with the chaos all around us. Give it away… Now. To me.

“I had some of the non-deadly mac and cheese.”

She shakes her head. “I wasn’t trying to kill you.”

“How much longer do you have to stay here?”

I want to take her home and find out where she’s been, what she’s been doing, how she’s been thinking and feeling. I want to see if she’ll let me kiss her this time.

“I could probably take off in an hour.”

A large hand grips the top of my shoulder, and I look up to see Garrett rotating his hips in time with the final beats of the song. “Get up here and dance, LL!”

I jump. Hell, I’d pretty much forgotten he was in the room. Good thing he doesn’t seem to be paying attention to us.

I hold up a hand and yell back, “Not me.”

“Dylan,” he warns, “don’t make me come down there and get you.”

“You know I don’t do all that.” The song ends, and a new one starts.




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