Maggie Moves On(69)

“You should see them at Christmas,” Michael said, leaning across Dean. “They do a duet that brings the house down.”

“Do you sing with your mom?” she asked him.

Michael grinned. “I got none of Mom’s vocal talent. But I did inherit her love of stress baking.”

“Really? I have a pretty mean apple torte,” Dean said. “Maybe we should compare notes?”

Michael’s smile widened, and he looked down at the top of the table. “Uh, that would be fun.”

The man’s shyness was adorable and so not Dean’s usual type. But the tips of his ears were a raging inferno of pink. Maybe people didn’t always know their type until they were introduced to it, she mused.

“Okay, I guess we’re doin’ this,” Silas said, leaning into the microphone and giving the strings a strum.

“Wooo!” Niri hooted. There were more than a few women in the crowd who echoed it. Maggie couldn’t blame them. He looked like he belonged up there. It was yet another turn-on for her. The man seemed to come equipped with an endless supply.

“This one goes out to someone special.”

Myrtle stood up and whistled through her fingers at him. Sy’s crooked grin found Maggie in the crowd, and they locked eyes.

He counted the band in, and the first bars of “Some Kind of Wonderful” had the crowd erupting in applause and cheers. But she forgot all about the band when Silas opened his mouth. His voice was rough around the edges as it toyed with the notes. His fingers nimble on the strings of the guitar. But it was his gaze on her face that did it.

Maggie felt her cheeks flush, and Kayla reached across the table to grab her hand. The hottest guy in town was serenading her, and she was having a borderline inappropriate reaction to him. In front of his entire family.

“This is the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life,” Dean yelled in her ear.

Deputy Mayor Kressley Cho, dressed in a hot-pink business suit, appeared from nowhere. “Honey, no one will judge you if you take him out back and take his pants off.”

Maggie couldn’t help but laugh. She also couldn’t seem to take her eyes off the man. Mama B had sashayed up to his mic, and together they were killing the chorus. When the song ended, their entire table and most of the bar were on their feet cheering.

Silas slipped the strap over his head and handed the guitar back to the band member. Then he leaned in and whispered something in Mama B’s ear. Her eyes lit up, and she laughed. He was grinning when he stepped off the stage. His gaze zeroed in on Maggie’s face.

She suddenly felt conspicuous and awkward. Unsure of herself.

The crowd was stirred up, and it took him a minute to make it to her. But the second he was close enough, he reached for her and tugged her to her feet.

“That was amazing,” she said in his ear.

“Dance with me, Mags.”

He didn’t give her time to decide or to point out there wasn’t any music yet. He just pulled her toward the dance floor. By the time they got there, the band had launched into “Angel” by Aerosmith. One of her favorites. Maggie heard chairs being pushed back from tables as every couple in the bar got up to dance. Silas kept right on tugging her along until they got to the other side of the stage, where the lights were behind them. Shadows enveloped them in the corner. In the cover of the dark, he wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled her closer than was necessary.

The beat was slow, and Mama B’s voice was low and velvety.

Maggie looked up and searched those gray eyes for a hint at what he was thinking. She found out when he leaned down to nuzzle at her neck. Her heartbeat thrummed frantically against her ribs when his teeth dragged over her skin.

That jumpy, empty throb was back at her core, reminding her that she’d gone so long without allowing someone inside. Her breasts ached for his touch. Those strong, rough hands sliding over heated skin. Would he take his time? Would he race her for release? Would he whisper all the words she longed to hear?

She had fantasies about getting on her knees in front of him and begging. Here. Separated from the crowd only by shadows.

“Darlin’, if you keep looking at me like that, I might not be able to hang on to my civility,” he said in a harsh whisper. He gave her hips a swift pull, and she felt his erection against her stomach. He was hard. God. So damn hard against her. That thick length behind his zipper.

Her breath caught in her throat.

“That’s better,” he said, his lips coasting over her neck, her jaw. Shifting, he moved one hand to her back, keeping her hips pressed against him. “Is this okay?” he asked, his voice husky as his thumb slipped under her shirt and stroked over her stomach.

She shivered. “Someone might see.” She heard the thrill in her own voice.

His grin was deadly, and she knew he’d heard it, too.

“Just keep dancing, darlin’,” he promised.

The sigh that left her lips when he flattened his palm against her ribs was very nearly a moan. His thumb brushed purposefully against the band of her bra.

Her body wanted to freeze in place and memorize the feel of his hand on her. But he kept them both swaying at half speed.

“I’ve been spending an awful lot of time thinking about how it would feel to get my hands on you, Maggie.”

“It might have crossed my mind once or twice, too,” she whispered.