question. Still, he had an urge to scoop Jenny up, get rid of his bow tie and jacket, and head for the nearest honky- tonk where they could kick back.
He craned his neck, scanning the floor. Where had she gone?
“Having a good time so far?” came Jeffrey’s deep voice.
“A blast,” Mitch responded drily, determinedly swallowing his misery, bracing himself for an up close view of Jenny in the dress. But when he turned his head, she wasn’t with Jeffrey.
“She’s out on the dance floor.” Jeffrey had correctly interpreted Mitch’s expression.
“You left her there alone?” That was even worse.
“She’s got a new partner.”
“Who?” Mitch demanded.
Jeffrey chuckled. “I didn’t get his name.”
Mitch strained to look, but couldn’t catch a glimpse of her dress. “You didn’t tell her I was going to be here, did you?”
“Was I supposed to tell her that?” Jeffrey accepted a glass of wine from a passing waiter.
Mitch declined another drink. “I saw her expression of shock when my name was called at the podium.”
“Yet she wasn’t sitting anywhere close to you.”
“Don’t get cute. I thought you would have given her a heads-up is all.” Mitch took a step back to get out of the line of circulation around the dance floor.
“Why didn’t you tell her yourself?”
“I barely saw her this week.” Except in the office. And in the office, they were being careful to stick to business.
“She told me about the dress,” said Jeffrey.
“That was Cole.”
“Cole said it was you.”
“Cole has a big mouth.” Mitch changed his mind about the wine and caught the next waiter who came by.
“So, why are you turning yourself inside out watching me dance with her?”
Mitch grunted a noncommittal answer. So he didn’t want Jenny at the mercy of a player like Jeffrey. That was simply good taste.
“You don’t want to date her,” Jeffrey pointed out, watching Mitch a little too closely.
“Of course I don’t want to date her. But I don’t want you to date her, either.”
“Noble sentiment. If you were her father, and if this was the nineteenth century.”
“Ha, ha,” Mitch mocked.
“Seriously, Mitch. Am I making my point out there?” He cocked his head to the dance floor. “You need to either start dating her yourself or step aside.”
“I already stepped aside.”
“The hell you did. You haven’t taken your eyes off her all night.”
“I can’t see her now.”
“She’s to the left of the band.”
Mitch zeroed in. He felt a little buzz of relief at seeing her proper stance with her dance partner. He could live with those six inches of airspace between them. But he wasn’t so crazy about the guy’s expression, nor about the way he kept glancing at her cleavage.
“Tell me something, Mitch.”
“Yeah?”
“That guy she’s dancing with? What do you want to do to him?”
“Rip his head off and kick it through the uprights.”
“I rest my case.”
“You have no case.”
“You can’t take out every guy who wants to sleep with her. Because take a good look at her, Mitch, lots of guys are going to want to sleep with her.”
“It better not frickin’ be you.”
“It’ll never be me.”
Mitch didn’t trust that promise, not one little bit. “Why not?”
“Because you’re my friend, and because I know what’s going on here.”
For a split second, Mitch thought Jeffrey meant his shoulder injury. But he quickly realized it was impossible for Jeffrey to know what the doctor had said.
“What’s going on here?” Mitch asked.
“What’s going on here is that you’ve been sacked one too many times behind the line of scrimmage, and it’s resulted in serious brain damage. Otherwise, you’d be out there on that dance floor with Jenny. She’s incredible, Mitch. And she said she wants to date you. But, oh, no, you’re so busy protecting your dating future with generic blonde bombshells, that you-”
“That’s not what this is about,” Mitch growled.
Jeffrey snorted. “The hell it’s not.”
“Give me one reason why I should take advice from you.”
“Because I screwed up. I had my chance with Celeste, and I blew it. I have to start all over again.” His voice went lower. “You watched me screw up, so now you don’t have to.”
“It’s not that simple,” said Mitch, even as his thigh muscles quivered with the need to cross the hall to Jenny. He tried to tell himself it wasn’t fair to Jenny to date her. But a growing chorus in his brain kept telling him he wouldn’t hurt her. He liked her too much to ever let himself hurt her. He honestly didn’t know which side of the argument to believe anymore.
“Song’s about to change,” Jeffrey warned.
Mitch swore under his breath. Giving in, he took the first few steps toward the dance floor.
Mitch was heading her way. Jenny watched him weave through the crowd on the dance floor. His gaze had locked on hers, and his jaw was set to a determined angle, shoulders square, stride eating up the distance between them. Judging by the flare in his blue eyes, he was either going to ask her to dance or have her arrested.
The strains of the music faded around her, and she relaxed her hold on her partner, stepping away.
“Thank you.” She smiled and nodded to the man she’d just met, drawing away and switching her attention back to Mitch.
She drew a little hitch of a breath, letting her arms fall to her sides and reflexively moistening her lips. She felt pretty tonight in a way she never had before. It was the dress, the hairstyle, the subtle makeup and the delicate shoes. And there was no denying, it was also the way men regarded her.
Normally, she caught very few eyes. At the wedding and the football party, when she’d been dressed in such sophisticated clothes, their interest had been frankly sexual. But tonight was different. There was respect in their eyes, a deference in their tone when they asked for a dance.
Jenny smiled to herself, thinking she could get used to this.
Mitch was thirty feet away now. She definitely wasn’t seeing deference in his expression. Still, she found herself eagerly anticipating his arrival.
Would he ask her to dance? Would she say yes? What would happen when she was in his arms again? Would all her well-laid plans fly out the window? Because the one thing she definitely could not achieve with Mitch was equanimity.
He came to a halt in front of her.
Neither of them spoke, but his expression softened.
“I like your dress,” he finally spoke. “Thank you.”
The music came up again, and she felt self-conscious standing still in the middle of the swaying couples.
“Did you want to dance?” she asked him, taking away her option to say no. Not that she realistically thought she’d say no to him.
“No,” he told her, making her feel more self-conscious than ever. “I want to get out of here,” he finished.
She wasn’t sure how to take that. Was he saying goodbye? She couldn’t control a wash of disappointment.
