Rodeo Christmas at Evergreen Ranch (Gold Valley #13)(69)

And she knew that dinner would be just as elegant as the rest of the place, and for some reason right now she resented it.

Not for some reason. She knew why.

The reason was seated at her right hand. The reason was this man who was making it all feel high stakes when it should just feel like a regular family dinner. And instead, it felt like a date or something. With her friend that she was married to, and her entire family sitting there watching. Her dad had placed the order ahead of time, and when they sat, food began coming out. Braised short ribs and potatoes. Roasted carrots and fresh rolls. And her dad got good whiskey, and poured a measure of it for everyone.

“A toast,” he said. “To Callie, and to Jake. May they be happy. And may they go the distance, because I would hate to kill Jake.”

Her brothers laughed and knocked back their shots, and Jake did it, too. Callie went quickly, to avoid looking like she was hesitating.

Her mother did not take a shot. But that didn’t have anything to do with not joining in the toast, and everything to do with the fact that her mother didn’t like whiskey.

They dug into dinner, and chatter was happening easily all around her, but she couldn’t stop focusing on the way that it felt to be this close to Jake. Everything seemed to shrink down to that. To him.

But the food was amazing, and she did her best to keep her mind on that. Dinner was followed by a big marionberry strudel and homemade ice cream, along with port, though Callie opted for coffee, because after the whiskey she didn’t need to go layering more alcohol over top of it. She was already feeling shaky and vulnerable, and she didn’t need anything contributing to that feeling.

Then music started to come from the other room. The sound of live fiddles and stomping feet.

“It’s a line dance,” her dad said. “We should go join in.”

“I can’t move,” Jace said. “I ate too much. Go on, you ought to get my sister to dance with you.”

That was when she realized Jace was talking to Jake.

“I don’t dance,” she said.

“It’s just a line dance,” Boone said.

And then Jake was standing beside her, reaching his hand out, just as he’d done at the bottom of the stairs. And she found herself reaching toward him. Like she was being drawn to him by a magnet. Like she couldn’t do anything to resist.

She didn’t dance. But she didn’t wear dresses. And she didn’t kiss men. And she certainly didn’t go to bed with them. But she had done all that in the past few days. So really, refusing to dance was a little bit absurd.

He drew her from the room, and her mother and father followed, along with a couple of her brothers. The rest of her brothers were already digging out another bottle of whiskey.

They went into the room where there was a lively line dance taking place, and she was somehow hurried over to the side that the women were on, with Jake standing across from her. She did her best to follow along, and she was grateful yet again that she wasn’t wearing high heels, because she was already tripping over her feet, and if she’d had to add that to the whole pursuit it would’ve been a disaster.

She clapped and spun and twirled. And at one point linked arms with Jake, then got handed off to Kit, followed by her father.

When she went back to Jake, her stomach swooped.

She felt dizzy, and it was fun. And she just felt... Free. Out laughing with her family, not trying to play a part. Wearing a dress, but somehow still being herself.

Then the fiddles changed, and a mournful song began. Couples paired off. Kit spotted a pretty girl across the room and went toward her. Boone went back to the dining room. Her parents grabbed hold of each other, and she knew that was her cue to take hold of Jake. But she was frozen.

Jake reached out, took her hand in his and drew her toward him. He laced his fingers through hers, his other hand low on her back.

“I don’t dance,” she repeated.

“I don’t, either. But here we are.”

“Why don’t you dance? You go out and things like that.”

“Sure. But dancing always seemed to me like a poor substitute for the thing you actually wanted to be doing.”

She knew what he meant. Before this, she might not have. But she did now. And it brought back visions of their night together. Intense and hot and raw. The sense that she had really seen him for the first time. Not just the facade of a person that he put on display.

She swallowed hard.

“Right.”

Except he was dancing with her. Of course, her parents were right there. And if they weren’t, he wouldn’t be. Oh, that hurt. It hurt so much worse than she wished it did. Hurt so much worse than she wanted it to. She wanted to pretend that all this was fine.

“Well, I don’t dance because I’ve never seen the need to. And I certainly never wanted to do it enough to make a fool of myself.”

“You’re not making a fool of yourself.”

“Am I not? I feel a little bit foolish. Wearing this dress. This dress that you just think of as kind of difficult.”

His hand moved over her back, and she felt the heat of it seep through the fabric. It made her want to cry.

“Did I say difficult?”

“You did,” she said, her heart fluttering.

“Maybe I meant dangerous.”

“How could my dress be dangerous?”