Page 16 of Luck of the Draw

Despite his joke, he was solemn when he said, “If you’d rather not do this, just say the word.”

His breath was hot on my neck, and a wave of desire rolled through me. All I could think was that I wanted to be in Dylan’s arms. I wanted to touch his chest and feel his body against mine. I wanted this as much as he did.

“No,” I said as I pulled back to look into his amber eyes. “I want to dance with you.”

It occurred to me that I’d have no good explanation if Blue or Lee saw me. Especially if I was dancing with the bartender. But when Dylan looked at me like that, his mouth just inches from mine, he filled my every thought. I wanted to dance with him, and to my surprise, the potential of getting caught added a little thrill.

A slow smile tugged at his lips—very kissable lips—and I resisted the urge to close the distance and see what he tasted like. Because we were playing a game of seduction, and I very, very much wanted to be seduced.

He led me to the periphery of the dance floor just as the band began to play a slow song. Still holding my hand, he gently tugged me closer, never breaking eye contact as his free arm lightly wrapped around the small of my back, pulling me in until only a few inches separated us. He devoured me with his eyes, yet he was respectful of my space. It only made me want to touch him even more.

I lifted my free hand to his shoulder, savoring the strength I felt beneath my fingertips.

“Tell me about yourself,” he murmured, still holding my gaze.

I started to, then stopped. Tonight was magical, and I didn’t want to ruin it with real life. I was eight years older than him, and I had no delusions this would be anything other than a one-night experience. I refused to taint it with talk of Randy or my divorce.

A grin lifted my lips. “How about we volunteer something about ourselves, then the other person responds in kind and gets to ask a question.”

“I’m game,” he said, his eyes dancing. “You start.”

Crap, what was I going to say? My life was boring. Work. Home. Kids. Money troubles. What could this man possibly find interesting about me? I decided to go with a cliché. “I’m a Pisces, and I like long walks on the beach.”

He leaned his head back and laughed, a throaty sound that made my insides quiver, especially when he involuntarily pulled me closer so that our chests touched. Then his laughter faded and hunger filled his eyes.

“Your turn,” I prodded, our bodies still touching. Heat radiated where we touched, and I struggled to keep my breath even as my pulse raced.

“Pisces, huh?” he said, trying to sound light, but I could see he was affected too. “You just had a birthday.” When I gave him a questioning look, he said, “My sister is a Pisces. It’s not like I’m a walking encyclopedia of astrology.”

“Sure,” I teased.

He laughed again. “Okay, I’m a Taurus, which means I’m about to turn thirty-one, which will make me only seven years younger than you.” Then he added, “And I like hiking in the mountains.”

“Was that what brought you to Asheville?”

His brow lifted playfully. “I think I get to ask the question. But I’ll be gracious and answer yours first. I came here with a friend, and yes, the mountains were part of the appeal, but if I’m being truthful, the breweries were too.”

“And it led you to Dottie.”

“Dottie called it fate. I call it luck.” His voice turned husky. “But I’m reevaluating my stance on that.”

The heat between us pulsed.

“Do you have siblings?” he asked.

“Only child,” I said. “Sometimes I wish I had a sibling so my mother had someone else to worry about.”

“I have a brother and the aforementioned sister, and my parents still find the time to get involved in every aspect of our lives. I don’t think the number of siblings has anything to do with it,” he said. “Your turn to ask a question.”

“Did your friend stay in Asheville too?”

“Nope, he headed home back to his job. We met on deployment, but we’re both from Western Mass. Tell me about the friend who suggested you crash a wedding. You said she’s going through a divorce too?”

“Samantha. We’ve been friends since middle school. Her husband cheated on her. Multiple times, come to find out. She has two older kids—both teenagers—and I’m pretty sure she’s rediscovering herself and dragging me along with her.” I purposely held back information about myself. It was easier to tell him about Sam’s divorce.

“You don’t need to rediscover yourself?” he asked.

I hesitated. “I was stuck in a rut,” I said carefully. “I guess I’m a little slower to get moving than Sam is.”

---