“Do you like apples, Holt?”

“I love apples, darlin’.”

“So if I made you an apple pie, you’d eat it?”

He smiled. “Every last bite.”

“Then I guess next time I go grocery-shopping, I’ll find some early apples.”

He chuckled, if only to cover up a pulse going absolutely wild. Being this close to Macie probably wasn’t the smartest thing he’d done that day. Not by far. Besides getting into a pissing match with Knox, the other not-so-smart thing was giving Steven a full discount.

That would be a discussion with his father for later. For now, Holt planned to breathe in the sweet-scented woman he danced with, and enjoy the softness of her hair that kept brushing against jaw. He’d forget about Knox, and the fact that he’d be showing his cheating face within a matter of weeks.

The song was over much too soon, and when Macie pulled away, Holt felt like he’d awakened from a deep sleep. One in which he was having the most delicious dream.

“Thanks for the dance, Holt Prosper.” She tapped the brim of his hat, then she turned and walked away before he could say one word.

She was swallowed up in the crowd before he could come to his senses and ask her to dance again. Of course, that probably wouldn’t be wise. He headed toward the corner table again, only to find it occupied. Well, maybe that was a sign.

“Hey there, pumpkin,” a smooth voice said behind him.

He hid a groan and turned around. Sure enough, Barb stood there, her hands on her narrow hips, wearing a flashy red dress that looked like it was two sizes too small.

“Saw you dancing with Macie.” Her brows lifted. “Didn’t know you were the dancing kind. From what you told me, you hate the bar scene.”

Holt really needed another beer, or two. “It’s been a long day, Barb, and I can barely remember what I had for breakfast.” Macie’s bacon and coffee. “How about we dance and call it a weekend?”

Barb’s face lit up. “Now you’re talking, pumpkin.” She looped her arm through his, and Holt walked onto the dance floor for the second time that night.