Page 95 of Butter My Biscuit

My hand rests on her hip. “You do too.”

“Can I join you?” she asks, and I give her a nod.

Before she sits, she realizes who’s with me. “Oh shit. Cash Johnson, is that you?”

He gives her a side hug.

“Are you back too?” She laughs. “Must be something in the water.”

“Just couldn’t stay away from this place. At least it’s never boring.” He looks forward.

Stephanie sits next to me, and her leg rests against mine.

“Can I get you anything?” I ask, grinning.

“Cranberry martini,” she says.

I order for her. The drink comes quickly, and we chat with Cash about vet school and working at a big practice.

“Law school sucked,” she admits, then glances at me, her body completely turned toward me in the stool. “I kinda wish I’d have never gone.”

I shake my head, knowing she made her dreams come true. “You don’t mean that.”

“No, I do. I know we’d be in a different place together had I not. But I made my decision, and now, I’m living with that choice.”

Cash picks up his drink, pretending like he can’t hear our entire conversation as Stephanie leans in and whispers in my ear.

“I came back for you,” she mutters.

My gaze is focused on Grace, who excuses herself. When she’s halfway across the room, walking toward the long hallway that leads to the bathroom, I pull away.

“I’ll be right back,” I say to Steph. “We’ll finish this conversation—you have my word.”

“Okay,” she says and glances across the room, where Grace’s date is sitting alone, but I don’t care.

Stephanie is a smart woman, who I’m sure has already put the pieces together.

The music plays, and people two-step across the wooden dance floor. The lights are low as I walk in the same direction she’s headed, trying my best to avoid people so I don’t lose sight of her.

By the time I turn the corner, she’s pushing the restroom door open, so I wait.

When she comes out, she keeps her head down, not even noticing me leaning against the wall. Just as she passes me and I smell how pretty she is, I gently grab her wrist and pull her to me. With her other hand on my chest, she stops herself from crashing into me with a ragged breath. She looks at my mouth, then up to my eyes. I adjust my hat so I can get a better view of her.

“Are you havin’ fun?” I study her face.

“What do you think?” She gives me a sly smile, and it’s so goddamn adorable.

“If I had to guess, I’d say you’re bored, counting down the minutes, wishing you were with me.” I shoot her a smirk, and I realize I’m still holding her hand.

It’s as if she notices, too, and I let go of her.

“Are you expecting me to deny it?” she asks.

“No, because it’s the truth.”

“Of course,” she whispers.

When someone turns down the hallway, she creates space, standing with her back on the opposite side of the wall. It’s the only thing that will keep our mouths apart. We both know it.

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