“I don’t know how this will work, Dane.”
“You mean seeing each other?” He stopped dancing.
Hilary tried to move him along again, but he stood rooted to the spot. “We’re hundreds of miles apart. Jorie and I are trying to get this inn up and running. You have a farm too.”
“So, you don’t want to even try to see each other? I’m not asking for a commitment, you know.” His arm around her waist loosened.
She rested her forehead against his shoulder and inhaled that musky, woodsy scent that was all male. Hilary was going to miss that so much.
“I know that.” She didn’t want to talk about it anymore. All she wanted was to be held, to get carried away with the music, to feel his lips on hers again. “I don’t want to say goodbye tonight.”
“It doesn’t have to be goodbye ever, Hilary.”
The frustration was back in his tone. Hilary gazed up at him, looking for defeat there too. His gaze held hers for a moment as if waiting for words he wanted to hear. Words she couldn’t say. Then he looked over her head towards the people on the dance floor as the corners of his mouth dipped.
Hilary turned around. Across the tent, Jorie held up a drink and motioned for her to come.
Hilary looked back at him. “What time do you leave in the morning?”
He still wouldn’t look at her. “Early.”
“Will I see you before I go?” She squeezed his hand, trying to get his attention again.
“Sure.” He looked down at her. This time his expression was blank.
The music slowed as if on cue, like it was time for goodbyes. She slipped her hand from his.
“Okay. See you tomorrow then.”
His brows raised.
Behind him, Jorie watched them intently.
Without a second thought, Hilary stood on tiptoes and took his face in both hands for one last kiss.
It was as if the contact brought him back to life. Dane’s arms swept around her, one at her waist, the other encircling her back. It was so full of urgency and passion, it stopped her breath for a few seconds until spots appeared like they had that afternoon. His lips devoured hers, tasting and nibbling, hungry for more.
The music stopped, but the spinning in her head didn’t. Her hands slid from his face to around his back, pulling him deeper into the kiss. He responded with a sound low in his throat as his hand moved to the back of her head. Oh, she didn’t want this to stop. Not now, not ever.
With their first kiss, it astonished Hilary how much she missed the physical closeness with another man. She’d missed being touched and wanted. And now, Hilary knew it was this man she’d dream about long after they parted. She’d gotten a small taste of what the future might look like with Dane. There were so many things left to discover about him, to do together, to hope for.
His arms loosened around her. If Dane wasn’t holding her, she might have trouble staying upright. Her body was a feather, light and without anchor. Deep breath. And another. Hilary stepped out of his embrace. She glanced again at Jorie, who was now sitting at one of the tables, glowering at them.
She touched her lips. Her lip balm was long gone. Instead, her mouth felt swollen and bruised, but in a good way. Hilary smiled, even though Jorie sent imaginary daggers her way.
“I have to go.” She reached to brush a stray lock of air away from his eye. “I’ll text you.”
Dane nodded. Even under the dim lighting, his face was obviously flushed. The skin on his neck rippled like he struggled to swallow.
Hilary patted down her hair as she made her way across the tent to Jorie. Since she’d seen their heated kiss, Hilary braced herself for Jorie’s inevitable comment.
“Well, that was some make-out session.” Jorie lounged in the chair, one leg crossed over the other, foot swinging.
“I’m going up to pack.” Hilary paused beside her.
“No, sit with me. I have a drink for you,” she said, pushing it toward her on the table.
“I’m not thirsty.”
