“Anyway, if I’m happy single, why shouldn’t you be? What a hypocrite I turned out to be.”
Josh wondered if she even knew how wistful her expression had grown at the bridal shower earlier. For just a minute, she’d seemed enchanted by the idea of her own wedding. Or maybe she’d just been enchanted by the idea of a well-deserved vacation on the beaches of sunny Cancun, the bride and groom’s honeymoon destination. Hard to believe Piper might really want to get married, but until a few days ago, Josh wouldn’t have believed she’d relentlessly pry into his private life, either.
“Are you happy?” he asked. “Being single, I mean?”
She studied his face in the darkness. “Aren’t you?”
“Absolutely.”
“Yeah. Me, too.”
There was quite a crowd gathered at the bar. People were in the mood to appreciate the live music and semi-outdoor venue now that the sweltering Texas summer had finally ended. Also, Piper supposed that, for anyone who had already seen both movies showing at the cinema and didn’t feel up to some Friday-night cow-tipping, there weren’t a whole lot of social alternatives. The bass from the band shook the ground beneath her feet as she followed Josh across the small, overflowing parking lot. Trucks with four-wheel drive and tires equipped for “mud-ding” had made their own parking in the field next to the building. Patrons waiting in line outside chatted and laughed, some tapped their feet to the boisterous George Strait classic being played. In contrast, Josh’s perfunctory smile was subdued.
She’d hurt him. For just a second, even in the darkness of the car, she’d glimpsed actual pain in Josh’s eyes. She never should have said that to him about being alone. He wasn’t someone who held a grudge, but things hadn’t been the same between them since their earlier conversation. Whatever she’d been trying to accomplish—and she was fuzzy on that in hindsight—she’d failed.
When it was their turn in line to pay the cover charge, she pushed a ten across to the cashier, waving away Josh’s five. “It’s the least I can do.” She wasn’t sure whether she meant she owed him for this weekend or for her earlier outburst.
They walked inside, through the smaller interior of the club, where the rectangular bar took up the center of the room and customers shot pool or played darts. Beyond that was a door leading out to the oversize deck area and covered dance floor. A band played on a dais, and tables were scattered off to the sides along gazebo-like trellises. Piper opened the door, scanned the crowd and finally spotted Mandy, once again perched in her fiancé’s lap.
“This way,” Piper told Josh, taking a shortcut across the edge of the oval dance floor underneath the strings of multicolored lights.
The twang of the guitars in the band and the mingled scents of cologne and beer filled her with nostalgia. She’d left Rebecca too young to get into any of the area bars, but no self-respecting Aggie graduated from A&M without going to a few beer joints and dance halls.
Mandy beamed in greeting. “I’m really glad you’re here this weekend, Piper. The rest of my family’s been driving me nuts.”
“I know the feeling,” Piper said.
“Stella’s after me to ask this man we barely know to be a groomsman just so she has an excuse to get close to him, and my mother is speculating about everything that could go wrong with the wedding. I swear we should elope.”
Donald patted his fiancée’s hand. “It’ll be all right, dumplin’. In a few months, the wedding will be behind us, and we’ll be in Cancun.”
Piper nodded. “Wise man.” Even if he did call his bride-to-be ‘dumplin.’”
“Piper!” Daphne was winding her way through the crowd at a rapid clip, her grimly determined expression incongruous with the lively atmosphere. As Blaine caught up with her, Daphne explained breathlessly, “I was trying to hurry. I wanted to warn you that—”
“Hi there.” Charlie Conway’s voice, melodious enough for public speaking, was beginning to sound to Piper like fingernails on a chalkboard.
“Too late,” Daphne muttered.
Piper sighed. “Hello, Charlie.”
He pushed past Daphne and Blaine, sparing Josh a civil nod before extending an upturned palm in Piper’s direction. “I was hoping for a dance.”
Why couldn’t he accept that there would never be anything between them again? Was it simply because Rebecca’s golden boy wasn’t used to taking no for an answer? “You know I’m here with Josh.”
Charlie managed to look wounded. “And he won’t let you share one dance for old time’s sake?”
Let? She had to give Charlie credit—he knew which buttons to push. Then again, why wouldn’t he? Toward the end of their ill-fated relationship, he’d pushed all the wrong ones.
But in their years together, they had shared some good times. Given the high points of their past and the nostalgia she’d been feeling, it seemed churlish to refuse one simple dance. She glanced toward Josh, who didn’t meet her gaze. If he was still angry about her earlier comments in line, maybe some distance would do them both good. She owed him some space. “One dance,” she finally agreed.
Flashing a dimpled smile that made him look nineteen for a second, Charlie took her hand to lead her onto the floor. Strange that there had once been a time when he…what—made her heart race? Piper wondered. Try though she might, she couldn’t recall ever feeling the exhilaration, frustration and sheer desire a single glance from Josh could incite. Had she ever truly loved the man she’d once planned to marry?
She absently matched his movements, not needing to concentrate to do so. The two of them had shared so many dances that she knew instinctively when he would turn and what steps he would take.
“We still move together as if we were one person,” Charlie murmured in what was probably supposed to be a seductive, husky whisper. But he was trying too hard. Real seduction was inexorable, deriving its very power from a sense of inevitability, not effort.
She moved back, putting distance between them. “It’s not very hard to predict what you’re going to do, Charlie. You haven’t updated your moves since you were a teenager.”
“Don’t be so sure.” The way his thigh brushed hers as they turned was probably not an accident. “I’ve got some more adult ones now.”
Piper almost laughed. His forced attempts at flirtation bordered on the comical when contrasted to her time with Josh.
Speaking of Josh…she shot pleading glances over Charlie’s shoulder. She’d thought that a quick dance and a stroll down memory lane would be bearable, but now she wanted to flee. Josh had always been fairly well attuned to what she was thinking—maybe he’d help her out.
Or not.
Blond and beautiful Rosalyn Granger, a woman who’d been in the same grade as Piper, stood by Mandy’s table, introducing herself to Josh. Piper could see the interest in the woman’s eyes even from this distance. Josh smiled, said something that was no doubt charming, and Rosalyn laughed. Then she touched his arm—the universal sign of a woman flirting.
Piper wondered if the two of them would go dance together. I’ll bet Roz won’t start telling him how to live his life, and tick him off. Even though Josh hadn’t made a move in Rosalyn’s direction, the image of him taking her into his arms on the dance floor was imprinted so hard on Piper’s brain her head hurt from it.
Rosalyn finished whatever she was saying, then touched his arm again. Really, had the woman no shame?
“Could you excuse me, Charlie?” In a complete breach of etiquette, Piper abandoned her partner in the middle of a song. She hurriedly crossed the room, skidding to a stop between Josh and Rosalyn.
Pasting the biggest possible grin on her face, Piper exclaimed, “Roz! What a nice surprise to see you here! You look great.” Dammit.
Rosalyn’s answering smile lacked enthusiasm. “I saw you out on the floor with Charlie. You two still make the cutest couple. We’ve all been wondering when you’ll get back together.”
When hell freezes. “Charlie and I are just old friends. My
heart belongs to Josh here.” She squeezed his hand for emphasis.
“Hey, Roz, is that you?” A guy just walking through the doorway called out a greeting, and with one last sultry smile for Josh, Rosalyn ambled away.
“Piper, about my hand,” Josh said. “You’re cutting off the circulation.”
Disgusted with herself, she promptly let go. He wasn’t really her boyfriend; no reason to act like a possessive lover.
“Sorry,” she muttered. Her gaze collided with Daphne’s, who watched from her seat at the table.
Her sister glanced from Josh to Piper, then smirked.
I am not in love with him, Piper broadcasted the message with sibling telepathy and a strong glare. We are just friends.
Sure you are. Daphne’s sarcastic thoughts were as easy to read as the neon blue beer sign blinking on the latticed wall behind her.
Glancing away from her sister, Piper looked up at Josh and wondered at the source of his fierce scowl. Was he angry that she’d run off Rosalyn? Or still annoyed about their earlier conversation?
“What’s wrong?” she asked him.
“You tell me.” He crossed his arms. “I’m not the one who barreled over here to snap at an old school buddy. Looked to me like you were jealous.”
“Jealous? Ha! You’re clearly not getting enough oxygen to your brain.” She tilted her head back. “The air you’re breathing way up there must be too thin. If I seem annoyed, it’s just because we had a deal.” Lowering her voice, she added, “Our relationship might not be real, but I’d appreciate you not picking up other women in front of my family.”
“Rosalyn was just keeping me company while you were out there in the arms of your ex-fiancé.”
His tone was so biting, so un-Joshlike, that she blinked. Despite the accusation he’d tossed at her, was it possible he was jealous? And if he were, what did that mean?
Not this again. Honest to heaven, she wasn’t one of those women who stood around analyzing men and feelings and relationships. At least, she never had been before. Grinding her teeth, she recalled times she’d congratulated herself on not obsessing about a guy the way some women did. How the mighty had fallen.
She needed a distraction. “Let’s dance.”
“Fine.” His hand around hers was gentle enough, but his posture suggested they were about to enter into hand-to-hand combat instead of the Texas version of the waltz.
Chapter Ten
Despite Josh’s customary grace and her vast experience dancing, they trampled each other’s toes and risked banging into each other whenever they turned corners.
“I thought you knew how to dance,” she grumbled.
“I do.” He shot her such a pointed look that she bristled.
“Are you saying I don’t? If you’d been watching when Charlie and I were dancing, you’d know that—”
“Charlie let you lead. Say what you want about me and my need for control, Piper, but I’m not the only one.”
“I…” Dammit, he was right.
Not just about the dancing, either. She liked being in charge of her life, dreaded the thought of a man trying to muscle in. She guarded her autonomy by keeping men at arm’s length.
But this was just a dance floor, for heaven’s sake. Surely she wasn’t such a control freak that she couldn’t let Josh lead? Inhaling deeply, she forced herself to relax and follow him. As it grew easier to move her body in rhythm with his, she began to enjoy the physical give and take, the way their movements brought them closer together and then apart just long enough to make her yearn to be against him again.
Gradually unwinding, Piper smiled up at him and even hummed along with the band. Josh grinned back, obviously taking her sacrificed lead as the apology it was. When the song ended, Josh’s fingers, interlocked with hers, loosened their grip slightly, and he hesitated.
Piper tilted her head back. “I’m game to stay out here a while longer if you are. I love to dance.” Which was true, but more than that, she needed the physical outlet for the emotional frustration she’d been feeling.
The dancing couldn’t help alleviate the sexual frustration, though. That only grew worse as Josh pressed his other hand against her hip to guide her in a turn. They did several tight spins together, his long legs grazing hers, the denim he wore making a raspy whisper. When the music shifted to a ballad, Piper’s heart fluttered. Slow dancing with Josh seemed a dangerous idea, but she’d just finished saying she didn’t want to quit anytime soon.
They both stilled for a second, and Piper stared at his shirt, not wanting to meet his gaze. Then he pulled her closer to him, so that she could have rested her cheek against his chest. Josh lifted her hand, moving it so that it cupped his neck, and dropped his own hand to join the other at her waist. Plenty of couples around them had adopted this exact stance, but that didn’t keep the situation from feeling blatantly intimate. Arms around him, she scooted closer, moving her feet absently, mostly just swaying now. With every brush of their bodies, Piper’s blood heated. Her breasts pressed lightly against him, just enough to tease her senses, and lower, between her thighs, the part of her that so desperately wanted to be pressed against him, ached with damp need. It occurred to Piper that with her fingers laced behind the nape of his neck and his hands at her hips, resting at the sensitive space just atop the curve of her bottom, she and Josh were nearly in the same position they’d been in when they’d kissed earlier.
All she had to do was look up.
Josh swallowed. “I know you wanted to dance, but…it’s gotten kind of crowded out here.”
She clung to the excuse to escape. “Yeah, everyone comes out for the slow stuff.”
“How about we take a break? I could grab us a couple of cold beers.”
She nodded in prompt agreement. Then, eager to sit for a while, she rejoined Daphne at the table.
“Hey,” her sister said. “We were just debating how much longer to stay. I tire out pretty easily these days, and I want to conserve energy for all that shopping tomorrow.”
Piper grinned. Tomorrow afternoon was the reunion picnic, and most of her relatives would be at the Rebecca Fall Festival in the morning. But Blaine, Piper and Daphne had attended dozens of past festivals, and Piper had suggested the four of them visit an outlet mall a couple of counties over instead. Daphne had been thrilled by the suggestion of one last pre-baby shopping spree; Blaine, while not as thrilled, had the good sense to humor his heavily pregnant wife.
They’d be back in time for the reunion, and this way Piper wouldn’t spend the day on old-fashioned carnival rides with Josh. If she couldn’t even wash dishes with the man without wanting to peel his clothes off, then she had no business going through the dimly lit Tunnel of Love with him, or being seat-belted into the cozy seat that would take them to the top of the Ferris wheel.
As though Daphne knew exactly who Piper was thinking about, she asked, “Where’s Josh?”
“Grabbing us a couple of beers.” She glanced around to make sure he was still out of earshot. “I don’t know what to do about him, Daph.”
“Jump him.” her sister offered helpfully. “I did mention my hormones are in overdrive lately, right?”
Earlier that day, Piper would have protested that the idea was crazy. She and Josh were friends. He left a wake of broken hearts as wide as the Rio Grande. And the last thing she needed was a man complicating her life. So why wasn’t she scoffing at Daphne’s suggestion?
Instead, the suggestion took on a life of its own in Piper’s imagination. Josh kissed with a slow, sure thoroughness that suggested he knew how to show a woman a good time. An unselfish, unhurried, uninhibited very good time.
He arrived at the table just in time to catch what Piper was sure was a fire-engine-red blush, but he didn’t say anything as he handed her a frosty brown glass bottle. His fingers brushed hers, and heat swelled in her body, making her feel tight and full in places she’d almost forgotten about until this weekend.
She quickly gulped her beer, b
ut it didn’t help. She guzzled a bit more than she intended, and choked.
Josh handed her a napkin. “Are you all right? You’re…”
Acting like a lunatic, she silently finished for him. Prying into stuff they never discussed, swooping down on Rosalyn like something out of Fatal Attraction, insisting he dance with her, then fighting with him over who got to lead.
To say nothing of the way she kept undressing him with her eyes.
“I’m fine.” Piper sipped her beer. Slowly.
Fine? She was tense around the one person with whom she’d always been able to relax. This was Josh, the guy who let her vent about work and constantly borrowed her fabric softener because he liked the brand, but didn’t want to be seen buying a bottle with a teddy bear on the label. Couldn’t they go back to that—to the easy camaraderie they’d shared? She so desperately wanted to say the right thing, to restore the normalcy of their comfortable relationship.
Preparing for the casual one-liner or friendly observation that would point them in the right direction, she cleared her throat, opened her mouth to speak. But nothing came out. She was at a loss.
Seeking inspiration, she turned to face him. Her gaze locked with his, and his green-gold eyes sent shivers up her spine. The only things she was inspired to do had nothing to do with conversation. Openmouthed with nothing to say, she nervously cleared her throat again and gave a little cough.
“You sound like you’re coming down with a sore throat,” Josh commented solicitously. He looked almost hopeful, as though illness and a possible fever would explain the way she’d been acting.
Talk about a blow to her pride. Only moments ago she’d been thinking about this man in strictly sexual terms, while he looked ready to run right out and buy her a box of tissues and a bottle of vitamin C.
“N-no, I’m healthy as a horse.” Now she was comparing herself to livestock? Good thing she’d made a conscious choice to be celibate, because she clearly lacked feminine wiles.
“Piper?” Charlie Conway approached the table. Nuisance though he was, his presence at least put an end to her making a fool of herself. For now. “You walked off, so we never really had our dance. I thought maybe now—”
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