“You have no idea.” Sam put them into position, one hand holding hers in the air, the other on her hip. “But you just say the word, and I’ll let you go and head back to my booth. My friends may be pushy, but I don’t like to be where I’m not wanted.”
“It isn’t that at all. It’s just that I’m not much of a dancer.”
“Lucky for you, I’m a great leader.” Sam winked, and in an instant, he whirled her away.
Stella had been dancing a time or two over the years. It was never her first choice for a date or an event—she steered clear of the dance floor at every wedding reception she ever attended—but she’d manage some slow swaying or an upbeat two-finger point shimmy if necessary, fighting through the embarrassment until the song ended and she could sit down.
Dancing with Sam wasn’t like that at all.
He moved so fast, keeping with the beat of the fast-paced country music, that Stella didn’t have time to be nervous or awkward. Even more surprising, there wasn’t a need to be. Like he’d said, Sam was a great leader. Even though Stella had no idea what he was going to do next, she followed his moves with ease. With light pressure on her hip and quick squeezes of her hand, he let her subconscious know which way they were about to move, and Stella followed.
For a man who spent his days hunched over broken-down cars, Sam was a well-oiled machine. By the time they’d danced through two songs, Stella was breathing heavily, but Sam was as calm, cool, and collected as ever.
Stella moved to pull away and go back to the bar, but the next song was a slow one, and Sam held onto her hand. “Georgia and Alma will never let us sit down unless we dance through one slow song.”
“Is that so?”
“Between you and me, they’ve been trying to set me up for years.” Stella flushed, and Sam must’ve noticed. “But don’t worry, I don’t have any ideas. I know you are only passing through. You staying to dance with me will just save me an argument with Alma later. The woman is taller than I am, and frankly, I’m afraid to disappoint her. You’ll be doing me a favor, nothing more.”
Stella let herself be drawn to him again and smiled. “It’s the least I can do since you skipped dinner to save me.”
“I’m sorry it took me so long. If I’d seen the message sooner, we both could have eaten before dark. Was Alma’s cooking worth it, at least?”
“Beyond worth it. It’s the best meal I’ve ever eaten in a saloon, that’s for sure.”
Sam raised a dark eyebrow. “My guess is it is the only meal you’ve ever eaten in a saloon.”
“Okay, you caught me, but that doesn’t make the food any less delicious.”
The song peaked, and Sam twirled Stella away from him effortlessly before drawing her in again. A few other patrons had joined them on the dance floor now, including Drew and a very pretty blonde woman. Stella wondered what the townspeople thought of her.
Did Sam do this often? If Alma and Georgia were trying to set him up, did he come here every Friday night for this exact reason? Was Stella nothing more than another woman in a long line of women Sam had wooed around the dance floor?
Did it matter?
“Delicious enough to stay a few extra days?” he asked.
Stella was so lost in her thoughts that it took her a moment to remember what they were talking about. “Oh, well, almost, but no, I’m afraid not. I’m going to get back on the road as soon as my car is ready.”
“I was hoping you’d answer differently.” Sam’s smile slipped, and Stella’s heart flopped against the side of her chest. He released his hold on her hip to run a nervous hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. “After you left the shop, I called my parts guy to get an estimate on the parts we need, and he said it’s going to be a couple days. I hoped maybe you’d decide to stay on your own, so the news wouldn’t be quite so disappointing.”
Stella felt something like relief. For a moment, she’d thought Sam was hitting on her. Then, a second later, understanding followed. “It’s going to be a few days on the part?”
“The parts shop is a town over, and it is closed today and tomorrow. The owner is a friend, so he said he’d do me a favor and run me the part himself Sunday rather than wait on shipping, but that’s the best we can do.”
She was frustrated, but blaming Sam wouldn’t do any good. He didn’t break her camshaft or crack her serpentine belt or do any of the other things that made her car break down. Sam was just the mechanic close enough to fix it, and he shouldn’t be punished for that.
“Maybe I should have my car towed to a bigger shop,” she wondered aloud. “I trust your expertise, but maybe somewhere else will have the parts I need.”
“Maybe, but the tow would cost you a fortune. I’d tow you myself, but I have clients booked tomorrow and Sunday, so—”
“Of course. You’ve done enough for me already. I would never ask you to do anything for free.” Was everyone in this town so accommodating? They didn’t know Stella, but they were making a serious effort to ensure she had a good time. The obvious reason was that they were all nice people, but Stella couldn’t help but be suspicious.
“You don’t have to ask; I want to help.” The song ended, but Sam held onto Stella’s hand, holding her in place. “For the late tow truck arrival and the delay in the part, I’ll fix your car for parts—no labor included.”
“Sam, no. It’s fine, really. I can pay for—”
Sam carried on talking like Stella never said anything. “And since you have to
