He gave her a barely there grin. “Sweeping you off your feet?”
“See? Others are dancing now.”
“I hadn’t noticed.”
He still hadn’t released her. Energy magnetized the air between them, filling it with a hum. She sensed his hands at her back, his body warm and close to hers. In that moment, the confusion of the past several days washed away. Suddenly, she was brimming with clarity, in a way she’d never experienced before. She was wanted, desired; she was the absolute center of his attention. It made her breathing a frenzy.
The crowd’s clapping eventually snapped her back to sanity. She released Adrian to join in, grasping for the chance to steady her pulse. She drew in a long breath. Oh boy, was he feeling this way too? Completely overcome being so close to her? Sure, she was supposed to be his girlfriend for all intents and purposes, but she hadn’t considered exactly what that would mean.
It’d been too long since she’d had an actual relationship, and even the last one with Tyler Hart had been more like she was being used than adored or appreciated. Goldie wanted someone who would listen to her, value her opinions, someone who would look at her every day the way Adrian kept looking at her. She wanted to feel this adoration, this curiosity, this sense of being valued for who she was—which was so ironic because Adrian didn’t even know her that well…yet.
The thing was, she wanted him to. She wanted him to know how much she loved pizza on Friday nights, or reading, or how much she enjoyed teaching. She wanted him to know that she was feeling braver with him than she’d ever felt. The realization of that stole a breath from her.
Her body apparently didn’t care that she barely knew him, either. It was responding way too enthusiastically after a single dance. She liked being held by him, staring up into his eyes and becoming the north star of his world, if only for a moment.
Goldie mentally berated herself. She couldn’t allow herself to like his attention or being held by him. She couldn’t allow herself to want to know everything she could about him in return. She was leaving. He was leaving. They were both leaving.
Across the room, a blonde, middle-aged woman caught Goldie’s eye. It wasn’t the hair alone, or even the features on her face, which Goldie couldn’t completely make out. It was the way she carried herself. Confident. Speculative. It reminded Goldie of her mother.
“Aunt Bethany?” Could this be why she hadn’t been home earlier? Maybe she’d been on the decorative committee for this fundraiser. In a small town like this, with an event like this, it made total sense.
“Did you say something?” Adrian asked.
“Will you excuse me?” Goldie said, distracted and grateful to be so. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll meet you by the raffle table?” His voice seemed uneasy and off-kilter. It drew her back to the realization that his arm was still at her waist.
The touch sent a series of tingles tangoing up her spine. He sounded as though he was affected by being this close to her, too. As if he hadn’t expected it either and didn’t want to let her go.
How could one dance have so much hold over them?
“Sure,” she said.
***
Adrian watched Goldie saunter toward the bathrooms and tried not to notice how her hips swayed in that dress. His mom had given him such a hard time for bringing her. He had to admit, he was slightly dazed after their dance. His blood was laced with the after-effects of holding her in his arms, and he attempted to recapture his thoughts.
He really did need to get back to Chicago to manage his company on site now that he was done helping his mom, but with Goldie staying at the ranch, with their whole fake girlfriend façade, he couldn’t leave. He needed to handle things from here a little while longer, which meant more time in Goldie’s company. He just never expected her to turn his brain into mush the way she had just now.
She slipped through the crowd, and the sight of her was blocked by dancers now reveling in the jazz band’s talents.
His dad would have loved this. He’d always loved drawing a crowd for a cause, as he would say. Matthew Bear’s generosity had been one of his finer qualities. Heck, to the casual acquaintance, his father had seemed like a saint. But for Adrian, he was the thumb constantly pushing him down.
“Well, well, well.”
Adrian closed his eyes. He knew that voice, and he turned to find Danica Foster sneering at him. She wore a white blouse with a frilly yellow skirt that made her look like a cupcake. Her brown hair was coiled at the back of her head, and her dark makeup made her features stand out in the low lighting.
“Danica, how are you?”
“Doing just fine, Bear. How about you? I’ve been wanting to catch up since your dad died.”
She threw it at him so casually it hit his chest like a fast-pitch baseball. He hoped she didn’t notice his inhale. This was no sympathy statement. This was her usual disillusioned way of handling breakable things with all the care of a drunken postal worker.
“I’ve been busy,” he said.
“So your mom tells me. So have I. It’s been good to keep up on things with her at work. Though it has been weird now that your dad is gone.”
“You worked for my father?” What had the old man been thinking, to hire her? Then again, it may have been his mother’s influence. Why was his mom so insistent on the two of them getting together?
Danica nodded. “Your mom and dad gave me a job when I got fired from the Golden Corral. I’m the one who’s been helping your mom with this event. How do you like the decorations?”
Adrian knew very well it was more than only one person who’d been helping. “They’re nice,”
