Do You Take This Man (59)
Her expression changed immediately, and she snapped her attention to Abel. My trance broken, I saw the little perv had slid his hands down to grab RJ’s butt. I was on my feet in an instant. Oh, shit. You just swung from swagger to assault, kid.
When I reached them, RJ had stepped back and was finishing saying something to him. Her regular expression was back, and Abel looked like he was about to be flayed and quartered.
When his wide, panicked face swung to me, I said, “Not okay. Never grab a woman without her permission.”
“I’m sorry.” He looked stricken. “Ma’am, I’m so sorry,” he said, turning to RJ. “I didn’t mean to . . . I wasn’t thinking.” His face turned beet red, and he looked like he might wet his pants. Though maybe that was good—he’d never do it again. “Oh, God. Please don’t tell my parents. I’m so sorry.”
“Lesson learned. Don’t do it again,” she said. “But before that, the dance was nice.”
“Really?” He forgot his fear for a minute.
“Solid swagger,” I said in a low voice. “If you can keep your hands at the waist, maybe try asking Faith.” I nodded in the girl’s direction, where she was standing apart from her friends.
He took a deep breath and walked away from us.
“Your protégé?” RJ raised an eyebrow again.
“Something like that. Are you, um, okay?” I hadn’t been grabbed, but my head was still spinning. In my mind, we’d had this entire exchange about how much we cared for each other, but we hadn’t actually said anything. My body was tense because I wanted to reach for her, but I knew better than to rush into it.
“Yeah. That’s not the first time a guy has grabbed my ass.” She rested a hand on my biceps. “I seem to remember you have.”
Resting my hand on her lower back, I pulled her into me to finish the song. “Never without you wanting me to, though.” I winked. “Begging, if memory serves.” This was normal, this banter, our verbal thrust and parry, but I couldn’t shake the thoughts from a few minutes before.
“I’ve never begged you for anything.” She smiled again, her playful, flirty smile that was still a little guarded. It was a lie, and she knew it before I raised my brows. “Okay, maybe a few times.”
When she laughed, her body vibrated, and I pulled her closer, an automatic response, just wanting her near me. “A few?”
“Don’t push your luck,” she said, her hand sliding up my arm to my shoulder, the friction through my shirt electric.
“I have pretty good luck, though.” My hand on hers tightened as her fingers brushed my neck. With her in her heels, we were close to the same height, and her brown eyes met mine. “Dancing with the prettiest woman in the room and all.”
She rolled her eyes, but the gesture was accompanied by her smile, the real one, emerging on her lips. “Let’s find somewhere private and see how that luck pans out.”
I brought her hand holding mine to my neck and wrapped my other arm around her. I dipped my head to speak near her ear. “Slow down. I like dancing with you.”
“We don’t dance,” she said, relaxing against my fingers again, grazing the side of my neck. “We find supply closets.”
“We could dance.” The song was nearing its end, and I noticed Abel still talking to a giggling Faith. “Maybe we could try dancing.”
RJ pulled back, raising her eyebrow. “When you say dancing, what do you mean?”
My life with Sarah flashed into my head, the things I missed that I’d never admit to—cuddling, doing the dishes together, grocery shopping, those everyday pieces of sharing a life with someone. Only RJ would wrestle me for control of the remote and make some kind of competition of clearing the table. We’d come home from the store with the weirdest mix of healthy and junk food and bicker about what to cook for dinner. Why does that sound even better?
Dancing. I wanted it all. The song continued around me like a taunt.
I opened my mouth to put that into something that made sense, that she’d understand.
I didn’t get a chance. “Lear. Thank God. I couldn’t find you.” The mother of the bride took my arm. “There’s an issue with the photographer and they’ll be ready to leave soon.”
“Sure,” I said, turning back to RJ. I wanted to drop a kiss on her lips, a promise that we’d come back to this, to pull her into my arms and just say that by dancing, I meant we become an us. I meant all of it, including arguing about what show to watch or dinner to make before we fell into bed together, but she gave me a knowing look and shooed me away with Mrs. Huerta.
The song ended as I stepped away, but I couldn’t shake our dance from my head for the rest of the night.
Chapter 33
RJ
THE BOARD FLASHED Delayed. I’d hoped it would read something different than it had ten minutes earlier, but no luck. I returned my eyes to the text chain with my friends.
RJ: Flight delayed again. I won’t be there until after midnight.
Britta: Doesn’t the airline know who you are?
RJ: Apparently the fuselage doesn’t care.
Britta: Do better, fuselage. We miss you.
Kat: Do you want to FaceTime with us so you don’t feel left out?