Page 8 of Love Unavoidable
Chapter 2
Ethan
Best reason to go stag to a wedding? All the single ladies looking for love, and I’m not talking about the long-term kind. I was sure that my buddy, Cole’s wedding would be ripe with them. But the picking has been slim this evening. Despite the fact that his new bride, my good friend Lexie, has a ton of single, good looking friends.
There’s a brunette at the bar across the room I’ve had my eye on for most of the night, I know from Lexie that she’s Cole’s cousin, but not much else. Trouble is, she doesn’t seem up for company unless it comes in the form of a bourbon bottle. I like my women loose, but not drunk.
I watch as she’s cornered by the bride’s surrogate grandmother, Mavis, and the groom’s actual one, Babs. I’m damn glad it isn’t me. Not a lot in life scares me, except for those two women. Too spry, too smart, and inevitably up to no good.
Mavis grabs the sexy brunette by the hand and drags her across the room. I almost lose my grip on my beer when I realize they are heading in our direction.
“Incoming,” Brad says. He and my other buddy, Chance, step to the side, leaving me alone to face Mavis Strassberg.
Assholes.
I open my mouth to greet the women, but Mavis beats me to it.
“Ethan, is Sadie. Sadie, is Ethan. Dance.” She puts Sadie’s hand in mine, then she turns and walks away. I feel a jolt, like she shocked me, when our hands touch. Sadie pulls her hand back with a gasp. I wonder if she felt it too.
Static electricity?
I move my other hand up to smooth my hair down just in case.
“I am so sorry about this,” Sadie says. Her voice is soft southern breathy perfection, with just the hint of a drawl. “When Babs and Mavis make their mind up about somethin’, they don’t really care ‘bout nothin’ else.”
“Can’t say I’m disappointed by it,” I say, giving her my best panty-dropping smile. She looks back up at me, caramel colored eyes wide.
“You might be later,” she mutters.
“Pardon?” I ask.
“Nothin’.” She shakes her head and looks down to the floor.
“So, is this what they made up their minds about? You and me dancing?”
She nods.
“And that’s what may disappoint me?”
She nods again, her eyes not leaving mine.
“Huh. Well, are you a good dancer?” I ask, just to see what she will say. She cocks her head to the side and narrows her eyes at me.
“Are you?” she replies.
“I hold my own.”
“Care to prove it?”
“Let’s do this.” I set my beer on the table and hold out my hand, she takes it and I lead us to the dance floor. I like the way her hand feels in mine. Soft but firm.
When we reach the middle of the floor, I turn and pull her into my arms. The song is slow and sultry, probably from the 70s since that’s Lexie’s favorite decade of music. Something about being a slave to love.
Sadie may not have answered my question about being a good dancer, but her fluid moves more than prove that she is. I like the way she feels against me, how she moves in my arms, her actions are sensual and self-assured.
“You’re right,” I tell her. “You are a good dancer.”
She looks up at me, eyebrows raised. “I should be. Been taking lessons for the last fifteen years.”
