“Well, I like that. You tell me I’m better than my dad and then you call me a liar.”
“You’re being a liar aboutthis.”
If he wasn’t lying then she felt really stupid.
“Maybe so. But what’s the point in telling the truth?”
Right at that moment they pulled up to the barn. Her jaw went slack. She had been to many town hall meetings at Four Corners Ranch, the big gathering where all of the ranch hands and the four families got together to discuss the moves they were making, thestate of the collective and where things might need to improve and where things were going well.
They hadn’t had meetings like that back when she’d been a kid because the collective hadn’t functioned the way that it did now.
But still, over the past few years she had gone to quite a few, and she had never seen the place decked out like this. There were lights strung everywhere, the trees out front, including a glorious weeping willow, all lit up like they had been at Christmas. The bonfire was already going, and the tables were laden with food, and candles.
There was hot cider, and everyone was milling around, talking and laughing.
The meeting commenced quickly, with Denver putting forward his pitch, to be voted on at the March meeting. After that, they dispensed with any business, and decided to move on with celebrating.
For a minute, she forgot about her problems. For a minute, she just felt happy. Because here she was, in the middle of her found family, at this place that felt like home, with hot cider and cookies, and it really did feel like everything was going to be all right. Nobody treated her like she was sad or a pariah. Granted, a lot of people at the ranch may not know what happened, but it helped soothe a lot of her fears. And it was different than going out that night at the bar, because she wasn’t trying to prove anything. She was just herself.
The makeshift band, which was made up of different rotating ranch hands, began to play music out by the bonfire, jingle bells adding a festive flare to the sound.
Couples began to make their way to the dance space in front of the fire, spinning and twirling and laughing.
She watched, wistful.
She and Asher had never gone dancing. It wasn’t something he was into. That was something she had enjoyed when she was at Smokey’s. The dancing. At least until it had erupted into a fight.
“Come on,” Justice said, his tone long-suffering.
“Come on what?”
“Dance with me,” he said. “It’s clear that you want to.”
“Really?”
“Rue,” he said. “I’m your oldest friend. Who else are you going to dance with?” She looked at him, his outstretched hand, his blue eyes sparkling.
And what she couldn’t figure out was if this was an offer from an old friend, or an invitation to the kind of temptation she was trying desperately to pretend wasn’t there.
She took in a sharp breath, and took his hand, because at this point hesitating would only make it weirder.
They touched casually. This wasn’t extraordinary. Except it sure felt that way. The fire was warm, and everyone around it was laughing. Spinning and dancing. There were children out there. It wasn’t the kind of sexually charged dancing that happened at Smokey’s Tavern. Groups of women danced together, and kids spun in circles alone. A lot of the dancing couples weren’t couples at all, and there was no reason for her to feel scalded. Except that she did. Except that when Justice spun her around and then brought her back to him, his arm strong around her waist, she couldn’t keep her feelings neutral.
FirstI’d touch you...
There had been so much resistance, so much panic inside of her since these moments between them had first started. And for some reason, right there by the fire, she let go. As he spun her away again, it was like she stopped plugging the hole in the dam. She just let it all wash through her. Justice King was a man. And she was a woman. It was like letting out a breath she had been holding.
What would it be like to kiss him? What would it be like to feel those strong hands over every inch of her body?
He was her friend. But he was a man. He was her friend, and they had so much shared history. But also so many things she didn’t know. Like how he kissed. How he looked naked.
How his hands would feel on her bare skin. What it would be like to be beneath that warm, muscular weight. So she let herself think about that. All of it, and when she spun back into his arms, she couldn’t breathe.
When her eyes met his a spark flared there. Like he knew. Like he heard her thoughts. The music slowed, and some of the people on the dance floor cleared out. But Justice brought her close, his hand low on her back. She closed her eyes for a moment, and he brought her a bit closer, her breasts brushing his chest.
It was like everything made sense. For the first time. Maybe the only time. The reason things felt weird and tense was that she was denying the truth of it.
The box had already been opened. And the nailhad already been hammered. Somewhere. She wasn’t rightly sure quite when. Maybe when she had seen him in his suit. Or when she had been in her wedding dress, and they’d linked arms, and she’d seen the two of them standing there in the mirror. This acknowledgment that there was something else between them.
