Beautiful Sacrifice (The Maddox Brothers, #3)(18)
“I’m not with the hot bartender,” Taylor told his friend.
“I’d like to be with the hot bartender,” Zeke said. Smiling at Shea, he took a sip of his beer.
“She has a name,” I said. When Taylor didn’t seem to remember, I reminded him, “Shea.”
He tried to look sorry but failed. “I know your name.”
“I’m honored,” I deadpanned.
“Quit acting like we’re strangers. I’m not going to put anything weird in your drink. I’ve never had to drug anyone to get laid, and I’m not going to start now.”
“I still don’t know you.”
He nudged me with his elbow. “You know I’m a good dancer.”
“You’re a decent dancer.”
Dalton and Zeke busted into laughter again.
Taylor lowered his head, laughing. “Cruel. She’s gone and insulted my dancing skills!”
I took a big gulp of ice water and set it down, the cup half empty. Droplets of sweat were skipping down my back into my jeans. I dabbed my forehead with my wrist. “I really should go.”
A new song boomed through the speakers, and everyone cheered and headed toward the dance floor.
“One more!” Taylor said, tugging on my hand.
I pressed my lips together, trying not to smile. “Okay, but then that’s it! I’ve got to work in the morning.”
“Deal!” he said, leading me by the hand from the tightly woven carpet to the wooden dance floor.
Taylor spun me before we began our counted dance. We fell in line, dancing counterclockwise like everyone around us. Couples were spinning and laughing, and if they missed a step or messed up, they only laughed harder.
I was amazed at how quickly I had caught on, and I could even anticipate what Taylor was going to do next. That was, until the height of the song when he did something new. This time, he pushed me away from his body and crossed our arms, pulling me close to him, and then in the next moment, I was in the air, upside down, until I was back on my feet, two-stepping again.
I was cackling like a maniac, unable to control my laughter.
“Did you like that?”
“I’m not even sure what happened!”
“I flipped you.”
“Flipped me? I just did a flip? In the air?” I asked, using my index finger to make invisible little circles.
“Yep. I’ve ruined you for all other first dates. Admit it.”
I missed a step as I looked down and then back up. “This isn’t a date.”
“Okay, I’ll buy you dinner. What’s open?”
I stopped dancing. “This isn’t a date. If anything, we’re friends.”
Taylor leaned in, his nose caressing the edge of my ear. “That never works out for me.”
I stepped back. The feeling coming over me was more than just a tad alarming. I waved at him and began to walk away, but he tugged on my shirt.
Then his hands fell to his sides. “C’mon, Falyn. You weren’t serious about that, were you? We were having fun.”
“It was fun. Thank you.”
I stepped off the dance floor and waved to Dalton and Zeke. Then I pushed through several people to get to the exit. I escaped through the door and walked into the warm summer night air, taking a big breath.
He is going to appear in three, two—
“Falyn!” Taylor said from behind me.
I suppressed a smile. “You said you wouldn’t even walk me home, remember?”
Disappointment darkened Taylor’s eyes, but he kept his expression smooth. “Whatever you say, Ivy League.”
It was a risk. If his ego weren’t as durable as I thought, he’d never speak to me again. But of all the arrogant bastards I’d ever come across, Taylor Maddox surpassed every one.
Still, I had to toss him a bone. I leaned up on the balls of my feet and kissed him on the cheek, letting my lips linger on his skin for just a second longer. Taylor came closer, drawn to my mouth, his face turning less than a centimeter toward me. I backed away, but when our eyes met, he looked completely different. I couldn’t pinpoint it, but something had changed.
“Good night.”
“Night,” he said softly.
I began my return home, pausing at the stoplight to press the button for the crosswalk. Tejon Street had moderate traffic for a weekend night, not that I had much to compare it to. Usually, by this time, I would be lying on my couch, eating cheese and crackers while reading one of the trash mags Kirby loved to bring to work to read on breaks.
“Hey!” Dalton said, running up to me.
I raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“He promised he wouldn’t walk you home. But he didn’t promise he wouldn’t make me walk you home.”
I shook my head, trying to subdue the victory welling up inside of me. “I can handle walking across the street.”
“Just pretend I’m walking in the same direction then.”
I sighed. “Are all hotshots this difficult?”
“Are all Ivy League grads this difficult?”
“I’m an Ivy League dropout.”
Dalton smiled. “You’re all right, Falyn.”
I smiled back.
The light changed, and Dalton and I silently crossed the street, passing two businesses before we reached the front door of the Bucksaw. I pulled the key ring from my pocket and stabbed the dead bolt with one of the two keys hanging from the ring.