Page 82 of Tattered and Torn

“But I—I didn’t think you’d feel comfortable dancing.”

“When I was younger, you couldn’t keep me off the dance floor. Now, to be honest, I haven’t done this in years, but it’s like ridin’ a bike. You don’t forget how.”

“Have you danced since—” I glance at his left hand.

He shakes his head. “No. Not once.”

He hasn’t danced in ten years, and tonight he’s doing it only because he knew I wanted to. As I gaze up at him, emotion swamps me, and my eyes tear up. He’s doing this for me. He’s stepping completely outside of his comfort zone for me.

This man… he slays me.

“Hey,” he says softly, smiling down at me. “Why the tears?”

My throat tightens, and it’s hard to get the words out. “You’re doing this for me.”

The look on his face says everything. “Who else would I do it for?” He places a gentle kiss on my lips. “Gabrielle, in case you haven’t figured it out, there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you.”

I bring our joined hands closer and place a kiss on the back of his left hand.

His eyes widen, and he swallows hard. “Gabrielle, I—” He looks around at the crowded dance floor. “Would you mind if we called it a night? I’d like to take you home.”

I stroke the back of his neck. I want to get out of here, too. I want to be alone with him, in a quiet place, where we can talk. “I’d like that.”

Holding hands, we return to our friends at the table and say our goodnights. Hannah and Maggie both have knowing smiles on their faces. Maya is secretly giving me a thumbs-up. Ruth joins us and pats John’s shoulder.

And then we’re gone, out the back door, into the truck, and heading back to the lodge.

“I’d like to spend the night with you,” he says quietly on the drive.

He offers me his right hand—he’s using his left to steer. We link fingers.

I nod, feeling a bit too overwhelmed to speak. So much has happened so quickly. It’s like gravity is drawing us together. It’s like we were meant to be together.

“My place or yours?” he asks when we turn onto our road.

“Either is fine with me.”

He thinks it over, then says, “Your place. That way you’ll have everything you need in the morning to get ready for work at the restaurant. It’ll be easier for you that way.”

“There are still two more condoms in my nightstand drawer,” I remind him.

He grins. “I was trying not to be presumptuous.”

“It’s okay. I want you to be presumptuous. I am.”

He nods. “Remind me to pick up a box of condoms to keep at your place.”

* * *

When we arrive at the lodge, I go straight to my apartment to freshen up. John heads to the barn to do a quick check on the horses, to make sure everything’s all right. The timing is perfect because it gives me time to get ready. Something happened tonight—something momentous. Our budding relationship took several leaps forward. I don’t want us to get ahead of ourselves, but John took some real personal risks tonight—for me.

I slip into a cream-colored silk lingerie set, with a baby doll top and matching lace panties. It was a gift from my friend Lia McIntyre, Hannah’s baby sister.

Lia gave it to me at my farewell party, saying, “This is in case you meet a hot cowboy. You really need to get laid, Gabrielle. You work way too much.”

She was right about my work hours. Back in Chicago, I routinely worked six nights a week, and on my one night off—Mondays—I crashed in my apartment and watched movies.

The pace here in Bryce is very different, and I’m finding I like it.

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