Page 135 of The Life-Changing Magic of Falling in Love

And incredibly capable!

That intense, watchful look that had propelled me over to him after talking with Jasmine, had never once wavered. It had made my heart pound and my mouth go dry so that I couldn’t even form the words to ask him to dance. When I’d licked my lips to try again, his gaze had tracked the movement and something about the muscle pulsing in his jaw had allowed me to reach out and take the beer bottle from between his hands and place it on the bar behind him.

He hadn’t stopped me.

And didn’t stop me when I grabbed one of his hands, placed it on my shoulder and turning, led him onto the crowded dancefloor.

I’d felt his fingers flex against my naked shoulder, felt his thumb brush along the line of the spaghetti strap of my dress, up into my neck, to the sensitive point just below my ear and I’d wondered if he’d experienced the tremble ripple through me. Or the goosebumps chaser at feeling him so close behind me. So much communicating without using words. Were those really my hips swaying that little bit more with each step, making me think I could do this – move to the music with him.

My take-charge approach was the sort confident women took in clubs but we weren’t at a club. And, let’s be clear. You don’t grind on the dancefloor at a wedding. You dance appropriately.

‘This feels like very adult dancing.’

At my words, George’s laugh is husky. Intimate.

‘Damn,’ I say. ‘Forgot to use my inside-my-head voice. I just meant, you’re very good at this.’

‘Thank you.’ He flashes the kind of grin I know is going to make me babble.

‘It’s interesting,’ I tell him, absorbing the feel of his hand at my waist, mine on his shoulder. Sensors spark from the surface contact, transmitting loudly to other parts of me. ‘There aren’t many places these days that call for the traditional dance hold. I bet Mrs. Lundy’s waltzed a time or two, but our generation?—’

George smoothly changes it up, so that both my arms are looped around his neck and his hands are skimming down over my ribcage, sliding sensually over the material of my dress before coming to rest hotly at the small of my back.

Wow.

‘Better?’

‘Oh, there wasn’t anything wrong with—’ I look up at him. ‘Yes.’ Even better. Especially when his thumbs move over my hip bones like that. My fingers curl in on themselves to stop them curling into the hair at the nape of his neck.

‘So did they pull you aside at school and teach you how to dance impressively?’

‘Nope.’

‘Me neither.’ But I seem to know how to do this. I mean, Clumsy has seriously left the building.

‘Maybe all it takes is the right partner?’

That serious and sexy look appears in his eyes again, making him look seriously sexy.

‘Hmmm.’ I kind of think that George would be able to dance like this with anyone. ‘Or some naturally born talent on my part because I can’t believe I haven’t once trodden on your feet.’

‘And you must have noticed I have exceptionally large feet,’ he teases. ‘By the way, you do know what they say about men with big feet?’

I bat my eyelashes. ‘Well, duh. Big feet … big shoes!’

He throws his head back to laugh and oh, my, I do like it when he laughs. I like it when he talks. I like it when he looks.

I like it all.

‘Now that you’ve acknowledged your talent and my exceptionally large feet,’ he says, waggling his eyebrows, ‘I think you’re ready for some big moves.’

‘Yeah?’ This word comes out breathlessly.

Without warning he takes my hand and spins me out and back into him.

I laugh, liking the silliness too, as I land against him. ‘Hey? You ever think about buying clown shoes?’

His eyes go round with surprise. ‘Ew … clown shoes do it for you?’

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