Then she wrapped her arms around him, held him tight, and kissed him back.
Lewis realized right then and there that his future had been set. Lost and found in the same heartbeat, he weaned his lips from hers and met her gaze again.
Even as she trembled, he turned her gently over to his best friend—his brother more surely than some who claimed the title were. He nodded to Randy and then watched, entranced and overjoyed, when Randy kissed Michaela for the first time. To his eyes, she melted into that man as surely as she had melted into him. Randy was most certainly as lost as Lewis had been, and he hoped beyond hope he’d also been granted the same epiphany.
Randy gave Michaela a couple of butterfly kisses then stepped back. As Michaela dropped her arms, Lewis reached for her left hand.
“Let’s go inside. We’ll see how we do this to music.”
“They haven’t started playing already?”
“Why, sweet thing, did you hear music, too, while we were smooching?” Lewis hadn’t often teased a woman, but there was something about this woman that pulled a lot from him he hadn’t known was there.
She met his gaze and tilted her head. “And if I did?”
He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Then I would say that all three of us really are on the same page. So, let’s take it slow and see where this story leads us.”
Her smile, a bit wistful, a bit self-mocking, did something to his emotions. Lewis Benedict knew without a single doubt that he was falling—and there wasn’t a damn thing he wanted to do about it.
Chapter Five
“Are we doing okay?”
Randy’s question reached her ear through the echo chamber of his chest. That was where her head was resting as he led her through the band’s rendition of Jimmie Allen’s “Make Me Want To.” The song wasn’t necessarily a slow-dance song.
But that didn’t matter one bit. Not to her and Randy and not, as far as she could tell, to many of the other dancers on the floor with them, either.
Michaela had been dancing most of the night. The men had taken turns being her dance partner, and both Lewis and Randy were really good dancers.
“We’re great.” Even though she’d been comfy with her head where it had been, she nonetheless raised it. Straightening up completely, she slipped her arms from around Randy’s waist to around his neck. This was better for looking at him, and yes, both men were very good to look at, too.
“This has been a great evening, Randy.”
“I’m glad you feel that way.” He brushed his hands across her butt, grinned, then returned them to her waist. Then his grin slowly morphed into a look so thoughtful, so tender, she felt a catch in her throat.
“The words of this song remind me of that first moment when I saw you at the roadhouse. You hadn’t been in the dining room when we arrived, but…I guess I felt you before I saw you. Please don’t think that’s a hokey line. It’s not.”
“I don’t, because it really was the same for me. I came out of the kitchen and into the dining room, and I felt…something different. I didn’t know what, not until I carried that tray of chicken wings to the back. And then I saw you and Lewis, and I knew.”
“You fought us some.”
They continued moving slowly, and for about a second, Michaela thought about giving him a throwaway line. She’d only had one beer, and that had been earlier on. They were getting close to when there’d be a buffet and coffee or sweet tea and, after that, the last set. Others had told her how these monthly community center dances played out. So she knew they were coming to the end of the evening.
Even as she was driving herself to the community center—once she got her finicky starter to work—Michaela had understood that, by accepting a date with both Lewis and Randy, she was agreeing to…well, exploring a relationship with both men. And while she didn’t know how this relationship would go, she did know she didn’t want to be the woman who spouted throwaway lines, especially in serious moments.
“It scared me. What I felt, meeting you both, being with you both. I thought it would fizzle out—like a fire on a cold night when you don’t add fuel to it. So I thought I would avoid throwing wood on it.”
“That was us, too.”
Lewis’s heat warmed her back. The band was beginning another song. Her mind replayed the announcement. One more they said, before their break. A special request, they said. Then the music started, with a keyboard intro, and she knew.
This song writer got it right, because yeah, every time our eyes meet, I feel it in a way I’ve never felt anything, ever.
The band’s rendition of “Amazed,” by Lonestar, qualified as a real slow dance. She thought they’d stop moving so she could change partners. Michaela lowered her arms to do just that, and then when Lewis turned her, she spun, slowly, gracefully. And she sighed when she felt Randy stay with them, press close. Dancing? No, it was more like swaying, the way she’d seen several triads “dance” this night already.
A triad. That’s us, right now.
“I recognize that slight panicked look, baby girl. I’ve seen it in my own mirror. Breathe.” Lewis’s voice, deep, steady, helped her find her balance.
She did as he suggested and took in a deep breath. And then she took another.
“Better?” he asked.
“Yes.” It was better. It helped, knowing that what she was feeling they were feeling, too.
“Let’s have this one dance, the three of us. Then we’ll eat and party a little with all those cousins who came out to guard your virtue this night.”
That made her smile. “Is that why so many of the people I’ve come to know since I’ve been back in the area are here tonight?”
“Apparently
