A long arm encased in a dark burgundy-colored jacket reached in front of her and smoothly snagged a glass. “Allow me, ma’am,” a long, drawling voice rumbled.
Krissa’s heart lurched and then started a foolish fluttering. A riverboat captain with lush brown hair and playful blue eyes bowed before her. Nick was gorgeous. She tried to even her breathing. Well, there was no avoiding him now.
With a touch to her rainbow headband, Krissa shook her head and said with a spacey vibe, “Get with the times, mister. Haven’t you heard of feminism? We flower children can serve up our own drinks.” Krissa ladled up her own cupful and stole a quick glance at Nick.
He looked like he’d just strolled off a cruise down the Mississippi River in the 1880s. He had an elegant black hat with a burgundy paisley band, a long-tailed coat and a dazzling gold paisley vest. His puffy satin tie had a glittery horseshoe pin piercing it, and instead of a handkerchief, he had six ace playing cards spilling out of his breast pocket. Seriously, who could pull off that oversized cravat? He looked ridiculously sexy. It was so unfair.
Krissa bolted down a shot of the pink party punch. She almost choked. It was hideously sweet and it was most definitely not spiked.
“A lady may always do as she pleases,” Nick said with an elaborate bow and a definite southern twang, “but a true gentleman always offers.” Nick planted an impossibly noble and chivalrous expression on his face.
Krissa felt a giggle escape her lips.
“Groovy, baby…I’m digging your threads. Are you Mark Twain or Kenny Rogers?”
Nick choked on his punch and then raised his glass to her and drawled, “You have disarmed me, madam. I feel sure my luck has turned. No more cards for this gambler…just a waltz with the belle of the ball.” He offered his arm to her.
For a heartbeat, Krissa remembered that she was most definitely not in the market for a guy…and Nick was probably already taken. Smart girls didn’t dance with the principal’s boyfriend.
“What about your date for the evening?” Krissa said with a chill in her voice. “Surely she should get this dance.”
“I’m all alone,” Nick said. “No one would come with me.” He put on a tragic look. “I’m single and unattached, truly!”
With a “no” hovering on her lips, Krissa drew in her resolve, sipped the punch, and felt the fizz buoy her spirits. A passerby jostled her arm and her drink spilled. She squealed in surprise and luckily aimed the party punch away from her.
“That was close,” Nick said. He offered his arm again.
Her fingertips twitched to take his arm. What was she thinking? Was he really so gorgeous that all common sense had left her? But Nick’s blue eyes laughed at her and made her tingle all over. It was just one dance. It wasn’t like Nick was going to be around in Wescott Springs for very long. He was selling out. She’d be fine.
She curled her arm through his and they strolled to the dance floor. The drums of the band beat out a quick tempo and Krissa felt a whisper of relief that it wasn’t a slow dance. However, the song came to an end and a soft, slow ballad drifted across the hall. Nick grinned.
“Now this is dancing,” he said and swept her into his arms before she could think of any excuse.
His body was hard and strong, and her curves seemed to meld into him. Nick’s hand was on the small of her back and ripples of warmth emanated from that spot. It was comforting…and stimulating. Her skin tingled to life and her breathing quickened. Comfort was not the right word. Heat was more like it. They moved rhythmically together and Krissa barely heard the music, but neither missed a beat. It was as if they had danced as one a thousand times before.
Krissa noticed only her hand on his muscled chest and the flutter of heat spiraling through her body. Her breasts brushed against him and her nipples hardened instantly. Nick faintly hummed the melody as he guided her around the dance floor. Krissa flowed with the music and stole a glance up at her manly riverboat gambler. He was staring down at her with a smoldering look. He was as aroused as she was.
All too soon, the music changed and the tempo picked up again. It was a classic from the sixties, and everyone started to twist, shimmy, and shout. Nick held Krissa close for a moment before he gave in and released her. She felt a fleeting sense of loss.
Someone’s hand tapped her shoulder.
“Miss Courtland, your dress is perfect for this song. Allow me!”
It was Oscar Madson, the sixty-something-year-old elementary school librarian, dressed up like a rock star guitar player with his white hair teased straight up and a red bandana tied around his forehead. Krissa glanced at Nick, who bowed gracefully, and gave her one more smoky look before he began dancing with Mrs. Madson, who was dressed up as a chubby, round, ginger-colored tabby cat with a long, bushy tail.
Krissa laughed and knew that would cool off Mr. Nick Olin. The music quickened and everyone shouted the words, and before long, she changed partners again with a fisherman and then a sheikh and then finally she ended up twisting and shaking with most of the teachers from her school. By the end of the song, everyone was laughing and out of breath. Krissa felt a warm pressure on the small of her back. She didn’t need to turn around to know that Nick was behind her.
“Hi again,” he said huskily. Her brain told her to bolt, but her body refused the command. Nick was in charge and he led her away from the dancers to a table opposite from the stage and the loud band.
“My luck is back,” he said and pointed at the six aces in his coat pocket. “I have you all to myself.”
“Looks like you know how to stack the deck in your favor.” Good heavens, she was flirting with him. She had better rein herself in and find a safe topic. Her brain went blank. “Would you believe this is my first costume party since a Halloween dance in high school?” she blurted out. She groaned and wished she would just shut up.
“Don’t like dressing up? It can’t be that you don’t like to dance, ’cause, well, I can tell otherwise.” He smiled at her and arched his eyebrow suggestively. Krissa blushed and hoped he didn’t notice. “Hmm…high school,” he said. “Must have been something embarrassing. Who doesn’t have some horrible story from back then?”
“Bingo.” Krissa grinned and felt her awkwardness melt away. She leaned forward as if to tell a grand secret. “It was tenth grade and it was the first school dance my mom had ever let me attend. I’d spent weeks making my Greek goddess robes and figuring out how to wind gold ribbons and fake grape leaves through my hair into what I must have thought was a seductive fashion. I wore my first really long, dangly gold earrings that I borrowed from my mother. I felt elegant. The first half of the party was fine, but then people started getting pretty silly and rumor had it that the punch was spiked. I went to get some before it was all gone.”
Nick laughed and nodded as if he remembered his high school party shenanigans.
“Wouldn’t you know it? A fight broke out on the other side of the buffet table. The food went flying and a huge bowl of salsa flew through the air and hit me square in the chest.”
Nick muffled a snort.
“I turned to run and blammo—the rum-spiked party punch slammed me from behind.”
“Just like you won the Super Bowl and got a Gatorade bath!”
Krissa laughed. “It was horrible! It was more like a scene from a horror flick with red oozing all over me. I didn’t think it could get worse until someone yelled out, ‘Wet T-shirt contest!’ I blushed about ten shades of hot pink and then another guy said something very uncomplimentary about my lack of, um, assets, at the time.”
She watched Nick’s eyes drift over her assets. His expression intimated that he didn’t think those generous swells would have any trouble winning a competition these days.
A blush tickled her cheeks. Krissa adjusted her blonde wig and tried to remember the rest of her story.
“Of course, I started to cry. Mercifully, my friends hustled me off to the girls’ bathroom where they tried to clean me up while I bawled in
humiliation. I hid in the bathroom until my friend’s parents arrived to take us home. It was a very long wait.”
“Now that is a sad tale,” Nick said sympathetically, but he was grinning. “But I’m not sure what you have against costume parties. Why not an aversion to spiked punch or salsa?”
“Hush, I was just fifteen and very full of myself.”
“Well, I am so glad you have overcome that scarring event.”
Krissa wrinkled up her nose at him and tossed her long, golden locks. “It only took eleven years…and your sister badgering me into coming. She made it sound like I would become the social outcast of Wescott Springs if I didn’t show up and have a good time.”
“She is strong willed, and this particular party is her baby. This year’s soiree is a fund-raiser for foster kids and school supplies, I think. Matter of fact, I had better go look over what’s up for bid on the silent auction. If I don’t win a bid, she’ll hang me up by my heels!”
“Sounds dreadful. She must be very mean to you.” Krissa laughed. It was hard to imagine the jolly, kind-hearted little brunette beating on her brother.
“I have the scars to prove it.”
They strolled over to check out all of the auction items. There were baskets of goodies, massages, pedicures, oil changes, ski passes, wine, and even a weekend retreat at Nick’s lodge. When Krissa raised her eyebrows at him, he just shrugged and put on a super innocent look.
Within a few minutes, the town mayor bumped into Nick and started a conversation about the resort.
“Nick, how did the tours with the Marindon Group go?” the mayor asked.
Krissa watched a calm, neutral expression wash over Nick’s countenance, but she was sure there was a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. She wondered if he was peeved about the mayor knowing his business or if it was the interruption.
It was obvious that Nick didn’t want to chat with the man, but Krissa knew business talk didn’t need her. So she waved her hand and moved away. Nick reached for her arm, but Krissa shook her head, waved an airy good-bye, and left the two gentleman to their discussions.
Maybe it was time to powder her nose and get hold of her senses, she chided herself. What was she doing hanging out with Nick for so long? It wasn’t like they were on a date or something. She was simply flirting like Ginny had recommended. He was funny and completely hot, but it didn’t mean anything.
She was a single girl and that was just the way it was. He very likely had a thing going with her principal, or Angie had something for him. Hadn’t Nick told her that he was unattached? He’d sounded so genuine.
An image of Angie and Nick practically snuggling on the park bench popped into her mind. The smallest of shivers tickled up her spine. It seemed eerily like the two-timing Tim and his sneaky affair.
As she walked back into the hall, Krissa saw Nick with his silky, chocolatey hair and those long, slim legs, and of course the brilliant burgundy coat. Nick was shoulder to shoulder with another guy, who looked to be a farmer with a straw hat and enormous bright red suspenders. Her eyes lingered on Nick’s broad shoulders.
“Wow, for a principal, she is hot,” the farmer said.
Krissa backed up a step. She followed their line of sight and saw Angie dancing with a man in a toga. Her pirate queen outfit hugged every curve as she slowly and sensuously twirled.
“Yes, she always looks hot,” Nick replied.
“I hear you two are an item,” the farmer said.
Krissa’s heart dropped. He was still staring at Angie and rubbing the back of his neck. Well, what guy could resist her long, dark hair and pouting mouth?
Krissa backed up and practically ran to the bar. She spotted a fellow teacher and scooted into an empty spot and caught the bartender’s attention. She almost ordered a shot, but settled for white wine spritzer. She felt like a wuss, but she did have to drive home.
Krissa made small talk with the co-worker who was dressed up as a sultry chef Julia Child. As they laughed about their costumes, Krissa’s mind raced in circles. Dammit, he made her body sizzle and she was sure he was feeling the same. But she’d heard him say that he was attracted to Angie.
Suddenly her temper flared. How dare he be drooling about Angie when he had clearly been chasing her around for the last two weeks? What a jerk. It was just her luck to find another man with a roving eye and absolutely no scruples. She was done.
She felt a pinch of jealousy at the idea of Nick and Angie together. She tried to squash it as she marched away with her head held high. It wasn’t like it mattered anyway. She wasn’t looking for a relationship.
Chapter 13
NICK glanced at the new high school football coach, Sam Sloane, in the farmer costume and wondered what he should tell him about Angie.
“We haven’t dated in years,” Nick said.
“Oh,” Sam said.
Nick read between the lines.
“Go for it, man,” Nick said. “She’s available as far as I know.”
Nick decided not to mention that Angie was a controlling hell-cat with a horrible temper and a dead accurate aim at fifteen feet with a plate. Nick rubbed his neck again with the memory of that salad plate landing on his head. She’d practically fractured his neck. Maybe if Sam chased Angie, she’d finally leave him alone. Angie always did like football, but the dude didn’t have a prayer if he didn’t have a fat bank account. Nick shrugged. Not his problem, but Sam just might be Nick’s answer. Nick nudged Sam forward.
The song ended and Sam flew to the dance floor, arrowing straight for Angie. Nick looked around for Krissa, but he couldn’t see her anywhere. A voice shouted his name and there was Dana with three beer steins taped to her hand, wearing a beer garden lass’ getup, and waving madly at him. His sister laughed and beckoned him over.
“Beer, mein herr?” Dana said with a terrible German accent as she waved the fake beer mugs at him.
“Aren’t there rules against pregnant women drinking beer?”
Dana stuck her tongue out at him. “Of course, I’m not drinking now.”
“Isn’t that what got you into trouble in the first place?”
“Might have been!” Dana laughed and rubbed her protruding tummy. “Hey, have you seen Krissa? You remember the new schoolteacher?”
Oh, boy did he remember her. He thought about her warm, curvy body pressed close to his as they cruised the floor to a slow tempo song. A man didn’t forget that. Not for a long while. “Yep, I’ve seen her.”
“Oh, good. I almost had to twist her arm before she would agree to come. We all have so much fun and I didn’t want her to miss out on the Mid-Summer’s Ball. She said she never goes to costume parties, so I was afraid she wouldn’t show up. She seems so nice, but kind of shy about social events.”
“I think she’s doing fine.” Certainly felt mighty fine, Nick added silently.
“Nice riverboat gambler outfit…my compliments to Hank. Tell him he’s your best assistant yet.” Dana winked at him and whisked off to the punch table where a gaggle of women were congregating. Nick spun a full circle and tried to spot Krissa. He could use another dance with that sexy little schoolteacher. He imagined the long, leather fringe of her vest brushing against her bare legs and decided he definitely needed another dance. Or more.
* * * *
Krissa deliberately kept her back to the dance floor and kept up a string of chatter while she felt a headache creep over her. She felt rooted to her safe spot at the bar. There would be no skulking off to the ladies’ room in shame this time around, she thought grimly.
She was a grown woman. She would have fun with her new friends. She would not turn around and witness Angie cavorting with Nick. An image of Uma Thurman seducing John Travolta with her slow, sensuous dance moves sent a wave of nausea rippling through her belly. Why did she have to like Nick so much already? Anger replaced revulsion. Hadn’t she learned anything from Tim Finchley? She must have some knack for liking philanderers.
Angie slid up to the bar next
to Krissa and immediately caught the bartender’s attention and ordered a martini. Krissa gripped her glass tightly and fought the urge to bolt.
“Hello, my dears,” Angie purred. “Having fun?”
After a few minutes of useless nattering, everyone wandered off one by one until only Angie remained. She was a mood ruiner, Krissa thought sourly.
“I’m so glad to see you here,” Angie cooed. “This is Wescott’s biggest event and it would have been a shame for you to have missed it.”
Krissa eyed Angie warily and wondered what was up. Her tone was so sticky sweet. Was her principal drunk or on something else?
“Dana Anderson convinced me that it was the must-attend event,” Krissa said. “I don’t usually do the costume party thing.”
“You don’t like parties?” Angie asked with wide eyes.
“Something like that,” Krissa said. No, she wasn’t going to go down that path with her boss. Vague was good. No details and maybe she might escape with her life and maybe even her dignity…but it didn’t feel very promising.
“I wouldn’t pry for all the world,” Angie said, and then she gushed, “I live for these events. It is so wonderful for everyone in the community to come together for a good cause.”
Krissa tried not to choke on her drink. Yes, Angie was surely here for the charitable angle. Here to show off her ta-tas more likely. Krissa waited for Angie to come to her point.
“Dana and Brett are wonderful people,” Angie said. “It’s so generous of her to make this event happen every year.”
“Wow, it’s so kind,” Krissa said and prayed she was concealing her annoyance.
“We’ve always been close. Dana, Nick, and I used to play together at Wescott Springs Resort when we were little,” she said. “Our families were thick as thieves during our summer vacations here in the mountains.”
Krissa murmured a few nice things.
“As Dana probably mentioned to you,” Angie said with a sideways glance, “Nick and I used to be engaged. We broke up over a silly misunderstanding, but we’ve started seeing each other again.”
Last Resort Love Page 11