Page 46 of Sin City Lights

He led her out onto the stone pathway. Tonight was warmer, the salty, humid breezes making that silver skirt of hers flutter around her legs. The sandals she wore were mere straps with little buckles, allowing him a full view of her small feet with tiny, red-painted toes. He wanted to take them in his hands. He had never been into feet, but hers were making him think of doing things that, before, he’d found off-putting.

Those sandals also had really high heels, tipping her feet at an angle that showcased her shapely calves.

He thought of buying her a pair in every color.

They passed the pool, the scent of chlorine hanging heavy in the air. The area was mostly empty, but at least one couple occupied chaise lounges, openly making out in the glow of the pool lights. One woman was halfway on top of her man, grinding, his hands grabbing at her hips. He thought he heard a little moan.

Eve squeezed his hand once, hard. He grinned. Ah. She’d heard it too.

“Get a room,” she muttered.

He burst into a startled laugh.

Eve smiled up at him, her face angelic in the moonlight. She didn’t speak, and he was rather glad she didn’t.

Music pulsed somewhere nearby, and he recognized the tune as “I Gotta Feeling” by the Black Eyed Peas.

Indeed, it was a good night.

He didn’t want it to end.

They moved past the pool area, and someone turned up the music, now blaring so loudly that his eardrums throbbed.

They came upon a gathering of well-dressed people standing together, talking loudly over the music, palpable excitement all around them.

The music stopped.

The conversations quieted to murmurs.

A drumroll sounded.

“And now, for the moment we have all been waiting for,” a booming voice announced,“everyone, please put your hands together as we now say congratulations …to the new…Mr. and Mrs. McDonnell!”

Bright floodlights came on. Applause and cheers erupted, and the Black Eyed Peas blared again as a young couple emerged out of the shadows and into a spotlight, she short, he tall. She pranced beside him in a tight white dress, waving a bouquet over her head in rhythm to the pulsing music.

They’d walked smack into a wedding reception.

Shit.

Eve froze in her tracks, released his hand, and moved as if to turn around, but Adam gripped her shoulder, keeping her firmly in place.Everyone had seen them, and he didn’t want to appear rude.

The couple headed for the middle, swiftly encircled by the crowd, the bride’s hips gyrating. The groom was a good dancer, Adam noted, and they looked great together. The spectators clapped in rhythm. The bride lifted her skirt a bit and twirled, her moves fluid, and her man confidently kept right up with her.

Adam looked down, more interested in Eve’s reaction to all of this. Immediately, he understood why those little evening purses were called clutches because that was precisely what she was doing with her hands. Fingertips clenching and unclenching over the fabric, she watched the bride and groom execute some pretty complicated moves. It was obvious they’d taken dance lessons.

He knew she sensed him looking at her, but she kept her eyes trained on them, refusing to look up.

“Looks as if they’ve been practicing.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say.

At last, she tipped her head back, her eyes wide and dark in the moonlight, and what he saw made his chest constrict.

Because in those big brown eyes, he read such sadness, it nearly made him come undone.

•

Eve

She couldn’t sleep.

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