He turned the handle on the faucet, and she put her foot under the cold water. “Nine months ago.”
He whistled. “That’s a long time to be dealing with a breakup.”
“What’s your excuse?” she asked, shoving her wet foot into a pump.
“For being single?” He turned off the faucet, his eyebrows narrowing. “Call it a hazard of living in a tourist town. I’ve already dated everyone who’s from here, and anyone new I meet is only here for a week.”
“So what you’re saying is I’ve stepped into a tourist trap. If I stay here, I can expect to be single until I’m dead?”
He shrugged. “Pretty much.”
“Good. Let’s go dancing.”
Chapter Ten
Seanna had thought the costumes at Gwendolen and Rob’s were some of the most elaborate she’d seen at a Halloween party…until they arrived at Wooley’s. Drag queens of all shapes and sizes were decked out in everything from a regal Queen Elizabeth to an early two thousands Britney complete with a faux python. Young, shirtless, barely legal boys danced on speakers with wet heads and glistening chests. Seanna hadn’t enjoyed a scene this much since the last Channing Tatum movie.
Desiree pulled Seanna out onto the dance floor, and she opened up like she’d just arrived from ten years in lockup in the state penitentiary. A drag queen dressed as Cher, and looking about as good, took her hand and twirled her in circles. Seanna let her body unwind from a year’s worth of misery. She’d hidden from all her friends for so long, she guessed she’d all but forgotten how to have fun. But now, she remembered. This was who she was. Not the miserable mess who spent every night huddled in her bed with a hand on her wallet and an eye on the calendar.
After a zillion songs, her feet needed a break, so she scooted off the floor. On her way back to her seat, she passed Marigold dragging Bo onto the dance floor. He rolled his eyes at Seanna, but she could tell he wasn’t completely annoyed. She found Blake on a barstool solo. “I can’t believe you’re not being hit on.” She glanced around the place. “What’s the matter with these guys?”
“I know. I think I’m too old. What do you want to drink?”
“I’ll take a bottle of water.” He got her one from the bar and handed it to her. “Thanks. So I take it you don’t dance?”
“Not if I can help it.”
She considered him and got a really bright idea. “Will you excuse me?” She didn’t wait for an answer. She pulled a bill out of her purse and made her way to the deejay stand. The deejay’s booming voice came over the speakers before she even made it back to her seat. “How is everyone tonight on this All Hallow’s Eve?” The room erupted in a shout. “Okay, all you ghosts and goblins, I’ve had a strange request, but since it’s a strange evening, I’m feeling generous…and so was the lovely lady who made the request.” The deejay grinned at her across the bar, and she held up her water bottle in response. “Turns out we’ve got a virgin in the house.” The crowd cheered even louder. “Don’t get excited, you perves. I’m talking about another sort of virgin…a dance virgin.”
Blake raised his eyebrow. “Am I getting ready to really hate you?”
“Probably so.”
The deejay fanned himself. “Oh, goodness, he’s a hot one, too.” Seanna waggled her eyebrows, and Blake’s face filled with color. “Who wants to pop a cherry?” the deejay asked. Hands went up all around. “Then everyone, let’s circle ‘round and welcome Blake to the sacrificial center.” A spotlight searched the room and landed on Blake. Seanna cracked up, knowing she was so going to get it for this. “No hiding now,” the deejay said. “Come on, and make your way to the center of the dance floor.”
The people on the floor formed a circle, leaving space for Blake to come through. They all yelled and motioned him over. There was no getting out of this scene. He tried to glare at her, but his smile poked through. “You’re doing this with me.”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way. I’ve never popped a cherry before.”
He took her hand, holding onto it for dear life. Desiree and Sebastian motioned them their way, giddiness in droves. They broke through the circle and Seanna and Blake were center-stage, surrounded by a room full gay men and straight women decked out in Halloween garb. The music faded, and in came the tune of the Chicken Dance.
Seanna went through the motions, showing him the hand moves, then flapping her arms, then the shaking of her tail feathers, then the clapping, over and over. He tried so hard to get it, but he was having trouble keeping up. She realized now why he didn’t dance.
When the part came to go arm and arm in sort of a figure eight, she took him by the arm, but had to let go when a line of smartly-costumed gay men took their turns dancing like they were Chicken Dance instructors. A particularly kind one dropped him off back in front of her where they went for round two.
When the music sped up, Seanna wasn’t sure she’d ever laughed so hard in her life watching Blake try to do this dance that he was terrible at faster and faster. When the whole debacle was finally over, and the room exploded with applause, Blake’s face opened with a smile so wide he could swallow the entire place whole.
He started to walk off the floor, but the deejay’s voice came back over the loud speaker. “Hold on, hold on. Don’t go anywhere little virgin-no-more. You were an excellent sport this evening, and your Joan Holloway companion is so hot in that red dress with the plunging neckline that I’m going to reward you with something we never do at this club…a slow dance.”
An M83 song came over the speakers, electronic dance music’s answer to the slow dance. She tilted her head to the side, lifting an eyebrow. “After that Chicken Dance, you got this one in the bag.”
He huffed a laugh, trying to hold back his grin, but not doing a good job of it. She hadn’t seen him smile this much the whole time she knew him. He pulled her to him, resting his hands on her hips. She eased her hands up to his shoulders, her stomach alive with a nervous flutter. She had always been fairly confident around men. It had been the rare bird who could put her insides into a tizzy. But there was something about Blake’s quiet cool, the fact that he seemed to listen when she talked and actually care about what she said. He wasn’t one of those straight guys where she felt she had a good thirty seconds then needed to wrap it up.
But more than anything, it was the way he looked at her—his blue eyes boring into hers like he knew her…like he was curious about her. And she wanted to know more about him—anything he’d be willing to share. He lifted his chin, seeming ten feet tall so close to her, sending her heartbeat up a step. She looked away, breaking under his gaze.
She glanced around the dance floor at the paired-up drag queens, a handful of lesbians, a couple of guys dressed as tech nerds…or maybe they weren’t dressed up? “I think we’re the most unlikely couple here.” She cringed at her misspeak. “Dancing couple, of course.”
“Yeah, we’re definitely the minority. Sebastian calls us breeders.”
“He better not call me that. I’m nowhere near ready for kids.” He nodded, looking almost a little disappointed. She considered him. “Are you ready for kids?”
“No,” he said. “I’m not even ready for a wife.”
“Oh yeah? Guys your age are usually married by now. You better be careful. People may start to talk. You have been seen walking into a gay bar tonight, you know.”
“I’m no stranger to people talking.”
She raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t expound on the subject. She clasped her hands behind his neck. “There’s a theory that if someone makes a fool of you, it doesn’t count if you don’t care.”
He nodded. “That’s very true.”
She gazed up into his blue eyes, her heart thumping away. “Thanks for being a good sport tonight.”
“Did I have a choice?” he asked, but not without a hint of a smile.
She leaned into his chest, as he pulled her there. She wasn’t sure who had made the move—maybe both of them at the same time. S
he breathed in the scent of his skin and lifted her chin to get a good whiff of his neck. The subtlest hint of his body wash lingered, causing her to close her eyes and drink him in.
She would be stupid to jump into another relationship so soon. Sure, she and Jason had been broken up for nine months. But she’d been living there with him all this time. And there’d been a handful of good moments during that time. Few and far between as they were, they had existed. Of course, she hadn’t been intimate with him for probably a year—and not for lack of his trying. Refusing him hadn’t been exactly easy. Seanna loved sex. But more than she liked the act, she craved the closeness it provided between her and her partner. And this past year had been about moving on from him, not getting closer.
Her hands wanted to wander down Blake’s back toward his ass—his perfectly proportioned, round ass. Tonight, it was covered by his blazer, but Halloween costume material was thin and cheap. If she could get her hands down there tonight, she could get a good squeeze in. He pulled back from her. “What are you smiling about?”
She woke up, glancing around, realizing the song was over, and a fast one had intruded. “Oh, nothing.” She couldn’t keep the smile off her face now. She touched her lips and walked off the floor toward her crew, who were all taking seats at a table near the bar.
As they approached, the same drag queen dressed as Cher who had twirled her on the dance floor earlier walked up to Bo, who was sitting on a barstool at the end of the table. “I was going to ask you to dance before, but she beat me to it.” Cher nodded at Marigold, who stood at the other side of the table with Ashe.
Bo shrugged. “Maybe next time.”
“How about now?”
“I’m no good at that kind of dancing,” he said, nodding at people on the floor who were dancing to an EDM song.
“Have another drink, then maybe you’ll be ready later.” She brushed her fingers against his forearm and then sauntered off, displaying her heart-shaped ass for the table to admire.
When she got out of earshot, he looked around the table. “Anybody ready to go?”
Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on you homophobe. Will it kill you to dance with a drag queen for one song?”
Bo’s cheeks colored. “You know I’m not a homophobe, Sebastian.”
Sebastian lifted his chin in defiance. “I know nothing of the sort.”
“I’m here aren’t I?” Bo motioned around the room.
Sebastian shrugged. “Big whoop. You came to a gay bar. You want a cookie?”
Bo put his hands on his thighs, his muscled up arms on display. “I’m a homophobe because I don’t want to dance with a drag queen?”
“How would it hurt you?” Sebastian asked.
Bo pointed at Sebastian. “You’re starting to piss me off.” Sebastian gave him a look so snotty it would have pissed Seanna off if it didn’t make her laugh. Bo sat up. “You know what? Fuck it.” He stood up off of his stool and walked over to where Sebastian was sitting. Sebastian tried to remain cool, but his quivering body gave him away. Seanna needed popcorn.
Bo put his hands on Sebastian’s cheeks and then planted a big kiss on his lips, making their whole group double over in laughter. When Bo pulled away, Sebastian looked rattled for the first time since Seanna had known him. He smoothed his hair back and touched his lips, his hand shaking. Bo picked up his beer bottle. “Convinced?”
Sebastian grabbed the beer from him and took a big swig, swallowing hard. “Yep.”
As the van pulled up to Gwendolen and Rob’s house, Sebastian said, “I’m hanging tight. I’m still not sober enough to drive, thanks to Bo’s kiss.”
Ashe rolled his eyes. “We’re never going to hear the end of that kiss, are we?”
Sebastian waggled his eyebrows. “Not if I can help it.”
Blake opened the car door and got out. “I can take you all home.”
“And cheat this poor guy out of a fare?” Sebastian said. “Desiree can take Ashe home, and Marigold and I will hang with our driver. You can take Seanna though. She’s on your way, isn’t she?” He gave Blake a significant look.
“I’m on Blake’s way,” Marigold chimed in from the way back of the van.
Sebastian held out his arm like he was playing a game of Red Rover. “Stay put, Goldie.”
Seanna looked at Blake. “Is that okay?”
“Of course,” he said. “Come on.”
Blake helped Seanna out of the van and was tempted to continue holding her hand until they got to his truck, but he abstained somehow. He closed the door behind her and made his way around the truck, both desperately wanting to be alone with her and knowing he needed to bear down, keeping his eyes on the road, and drop her safely home. Nothing else.
“That was fun tonight,” she said as they made their way down 30A back toward Seaside.
“Which part?” he asked.
“All of it. But my favorite part was—”
He slid her a look, and she just broke out in the giggles in return. If making a fool of himself in front of a bar full of people made her that happy, he’d sign up for that gig every night of his life.
“I was going to say watching the Bo/Sebastian make-out session.”
That gave him a chuckle. “Please call it that next time you see Bo. I’m begging you.”
“Will definitely do.” She wiggled a little in her seat and cleared her throat. “I’m not that tired, oddly. How about you?”
A heat wave jogged through his midsection and up to his stomach. “No. What time is it?” he asked, looking at the clock on his radio.
She checked her phone. “It’s only eleven-ten? Ooh, it’s eleven-eleven. Make a wish.”
“You can do that?”
“Of course you can. Any time you like, actually,” she said, smiling away at him. Resisting her was getting damn-near impossible. “So were you serious about that Batman viewing?”
He had been at the time. Deadly serious. And there was nothing on the planet he’d rather do than sit on the couch with her at his place and watch one of those movies…or nothing. But as the seconds ticked away toward midnight, his stomach knotted harder. Tomorrow was a significant day…the three year anniversary. If he woke up with Seanna in his arms on that day, he’d never be able to forgive himself.
“I am.”
“How about,” she looked at her wrist like she was checking a watch, “now?”
He scratched his jawline, squirming in his seat, ordering his middle to calm the fuck down. He could take her back to his place and just watch the damn movie. Then he’d take her home when it was over. Plain and simple.
“Yeah,” he said after too much silence lay between them.
“Or, we could wait until another time. It is getting late.”
“No…I mean…yes. Tonight.” He rubbed his forehead, a headache starting to form.
“Nice. Now, where’s the place to start? Is there any weird order like with Star Wars where you think you’re watching from the beginning because it’s old and filmed in the seventies, but you’re really watching episode four or anything like that?”
“No, yeah, kind of, but…no.”
Scenes from that night in Atlanta flashed in his head. Tara’s green shirt covered in blood like some sort of bizarre Christmas decoration. Her wrists torn open, exposing a deep, dark, bloody gore.
“I’m open for either era, but if you’re going to have me choose between Michael Keaton and Christian Bale…well…”
Blake whipped the truck onto Seagull Lane, the tires squealing from his last-minute decision. Seanna grasped the oh-shit handle, her words matching the handle’s name.
“Blake?” she asked, leaving out the what the fuck.
He screeched to a stop in front of Cassidy’s house on the cul-de-sac and put the truck in park. He met her gaze, still not knowing if he was going to take her in his arms, tell her everything, or kick her out of the truck.
Her hazel eyes stared back at him wide as white wall tires. He wanted her mo
re than he’d ever wanted a woman in his life. She made him want to do stupid stuff like learn the Chicken Dance in front of a bar full of people and laugh with her till they were both in tears from it. She made him want to fall in love but for real this time and do dumb stuff like make dinner together and hold hands in a movie theater. She made him want to lie with her on a blanket on the beach with nothing between them and make love for hours and then count the stars and wish on one like it mattered. She made him want to live again.
“I’m moving to Kansas City,” he said.
She blinked. “Oh. Wow.”
“It’s a good opportunity. More money, steady insurance, and I wouldn’t have to run my own business anymore. I hate all that paperwork.” Paperwork. He was telling the woman he was falling hard for that the absence of paperwork was more important to him than her.
“Sure, well, I can see that. Sounds like a good opportunity.” She smiled at him, her eyebrows raised, nodding, like she was putting all she had into that smile to make it seem real. “When do you leave?”
He rubbed his forehead, eyes closed. “December 1 is when I need to be there. I need to wrap everything up here with my business…work out some commitments. I’ll probably leave right after Thanksgiving.”
“Okay, well. Thanks for letting me know.”
He stared at her, the want inside of him hitting a crescendo like never before. “Rain check on that Batman night?”
“Oh, yes. Of course.” She held up her hand in a wave. “Thanks for the ride.”
He didn’t answer…just watched her get out of the truck and walk up to Cassidy’s door. She waved one last time before closing the door behind her and turning off the porch light.
He dropped his head to the steering wheel. He was doing the right thing. He had to keep repeating that to himself. She couldn’t know what happened. He wouldn’t put her through that. He wouldn’t put himself through that.
Chapter Eleven
Blake loaded his dog Sadie into the cab of his truck, and they headed for Bo’s house in Panama City Beach with plans to watch Sunday football. Blake hated to ruin the day, but now that Seanna knew about Kansas City, it was official. He needed to tell Bo.
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