They dragged me into the center of the dance floor, and we were soon joined by Rusty and Hux.
Carina held her hands above her head and started moving first her right leg, then her left. She went back to moving her right leg, this time behind her, and then did some fancy jump after crisscrossing her legs and ended up facing side-on to the stage. Jacques was following easily, but the rest of our group was pretty hopeless. When I looked around the dance floor, some people were dancing while others were watching our group and recording Carina and Jacques. She’d turned and was doing the steps backward so she and Jacques were in sync. Their hands were joined, and they never tore their gazes from each other, their smiles warming my chest.
I shifted closer, trying to block the view of the people recording, and Hux and Rusty did the same. It didn’t matter, though. There were too few of us and too many people who were filming for us to stop anyone. Neither Carina nor Jacques seemed to mind, though. They were laughing, and when the music finished, Jacques wrapped his arm around her waist and dipped her low, earning a squeal of delight from Carina. Clapping and cheers broke out around us, and Carina flushed a pretty pink and fanned herself.
I knew exactly how far that flush travelled down her delectable body, and I wanted to see it right now. Then I wanted to lick the bead of sweat on her throat, follow it down to those breasts I couldn’t get enough of, and bury my face between them.
Excusing myself, I headed to the bar, in need of another drink.
“I’m heading out, bud,” Hux said, gripping my shoulder and squeezing it gently. “Have a good night and be safe tomorrow, okay?”
“Thanks, man.” I shook his hand and downed half the beer the bartender handed over.
The others were still dancing, so I made my way back over to the table and leaned my elbows on it. A few minutes later, as I drained the rest of the bottle, Billy announced that Whiskey Riders were taking a break, and a slow song started playing. There was no way I was leaving Rusty out there by himself, and this was far too good an opportunity to dance with my guy to turn down. I headed back out, grasped Rusty’s hand, and pulled him into position. There was no part of us touching except our hands, but I got to slow dance with him.
Butterflies took flight, and my belly flip-flopped. I grinned at Rusty, desperate to kiss him, but I resisted. Barely. His responding smile lit up the room, and my breath caught. This, right here, would have been impossible a few months ago. We would have had a few drinks, I would have danced for a bit with or without a girl, and then we would have headed home. There would have been laughs and we would have had fun, but Carina was something else. She was like the glue that filled our gaps. She brought us closer together and bonded us more tightly. I fucking loved it.
I loved her.
Billy was making his way to the stage when I flagged him down, then edged us to the side of the dance floor so I could talk to him.
“Hey, Billy,” I greeted. We shook hands, and he did the same with Rusty.
“So Jacques got married?” He eyed them, still wrapped around each other on the dance floor, and quirked a brow. “Didn’t see that coming.”
“She’s great.” I couldn’t help my grin, and when I glanced at Rusty, he was doing the same. “She also plays violin, but it’s been a while. Can I persuade you to call her up to play a song?”
He looked at the other guys and girl—their drummer—and their fiddle player shrugged.
“How well does she play?”
“She was invited to play for a youth orchestra but had to give it up. Don’t think she’s played anything publicly since she was a teenager, but from what I can gather, she’s good.”
Billy ran his gaze down my body and licked his lips. Holy shit, Jacques was right. He was coming on to me.
I swallowed and forced a laugh. “What d’y’all say?”
“Sure, why the hell not,” Billy responded, stepping closer.
“Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not on the market, Billy.”
“Hmm,” he responded, not giving me any indication of whether he would back off, but he did shift, increasing the space between us.
Barely a second later, Carina slid her arm around my waist and gushed, “That was so much fun. Thank you for playing “Nutbush.””
“Our pleasure. So I hear you’re a violinist?”
“Oh, I was.” She waved her hand dismissively. “I haven’t played in forever.”
“It’s like riding a bike,” the fiddle player said and held out his hand. “I’m Clarke. Pleased to meet you.” They shook, and he added, “Want to play a song with us? Your pick—we’ll see if we know any of the ones you know.”
“Oh, I couldn’t. Not in front of a crowd.”
“Sure you can.” Billy grinned, then turned to Jacques and smirked at him. “Congratulations are in order.”
“Thanks,” Jacques said with a forced smile, his tone professionally polite to anyone who didn’t know him as well as we did.
Carina brought their clasped hands to her lips and kissed Jacques’s knuckles.
