Page 39 of The One I Want
“Well, we can’t be having any doom and gloom on the day we give thanks,” Oliver says as he stands back up. “Betsy, you seem like a girl who is no stranger to a dance floor.”
“I am not.”
Oliver extends his hand. “Then grab your drink and get out there. Give the people something to stare at so they can quit pretending that they aren’t checking out the new girl.”
She turns to look at me and I nod. “Go on. Have fun. He’s the best dancer out of all of us anyway. Just make sure he doesn’t propose to you.”
“Got it.”
With a wink to me and a drink in her hand, Betsy and Oliver head out to the dance floor. I watch the two of them walking away, Betsy laughing at something Oliver said. When I turn back around I see Shane and Simon staring at me.
“What?”
Neither of them say anything, but the look is not hard to decipher. It’s definitely a silent “What the fuck?”
“Just say it. I’m not up to mind reading today.”
I take a sip of my drink, forgetting that Porter’s specialty drink goes down as smooth as iced tea on a summer’s day.
Simon sets down his drink. “I just think it’s funny that you shot me a death glare when I kissed Betsy’s hand, but you have no problem letting her go dance with Oliver.”
“Maybe that’s because I know you will try to get her into bed in five seconds, and Oliver isn’t an asshole.”
“Why would you care?” Shane asks. “If I remember correctly, you told Oliver and me there was nothing between you two. So, if that stands true, and she really isjust the nanny, then why would you have a problem with one of your best friends pursuing her?”
“I don’t,” I say through clenched teeth. “She’s a grown woman. She can do whatever she wants.”
“Or whomever she wants.”
Simon lifts an eyebrow at me, practically daring me to say something. That motherfucker knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s always been the instigator of our group. I swear the man gets off on how far he can push someone before making them snap.
“Yes, or whomever she wants.”
I barely move my lips as I say those words, because they taste like poison on my tongue.
“You’re going to go down swinging, aren’t you? I mean, bravo to you, friend. If that woman was in my house all day, every day, I know for a damn fact I would have punched me about five minutes ago for making a move. But hey, to each their own.”
I don’t answer him, instead changing my focus to Betsy and Oliver on the dance floor. As I predicted, nothing is happening between them. It’s just two people enjoying the night dancing to a song I only know because the younger guys play it in the locker room.
For a brief moment, I imagine another random guy out there with her and not Oliver. My temperature immediately spikes at just the thought of it.
Which is ridiculous. Betsy is a grown woman. I know she’s going to eventually date. She might even be dating now. Hell, there’s a good chance at this time next year she will be on the dance floor with a guy who isn’t Oliver. He’ll be holding her close as a ballad is played. She’ll be giving him that smile that will make him feel like a million bucks. They’ll kiss, pretending that there isn’t another person in this place.
And I’ll be here, divorced and retired, fighting off the urge not to beat that guy’s ass.
Fuck. This is bad. So fucking bad.
Chapter16
Betsy
“That might have beenthe most exhausting night of my entire life.”
I drop down onto Wes’s couch, which I have to say is literally the most comfortable piece of furniture I’ve ever experienced. That could also be because this day felt like it was never going to end. After five hours of Christmas decorating and a very argumentative bedtime, the kids are asleep and it’s just Wes and me now.
“If you think this is exhausting, just wait until actual Christmas Day.”
Wes hands me a glass of wine as he sits down next to me on the couch with his beer. The crispness of the moscato was exactly what I needed after tonight.
