The Last-Chance Maverick. Christyne Butler
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her sweater over the closest stool. “I don’t think anyone noticed.”
Ha! Now she’d done it. Twice!
“Noticed what?” Jonah asked, looking at her. His gaze stilled, locked somewhere around her mouth before it slowly traveled the length of her body.
The slow appraisal caused those pinpricks to rise into goose bumps along her bare arms. She quickly blamed it on the bar’s air-conditioning, but her girly parts enjoyed his perusal so much her toes curled inside her favorite suede ankle boots.
“You—ah, you changed.” Jonah’s words came out in a low whisper. He lifted his beer to his mouth, ready to tip it back, but then noticed the bottle was empty and set it back down.
“Actually, I just took off a layer.” She tugged the edges of the tank top down over her hips, but it barely covered the pockets on her leggings where her phone, driver’s license and cash were safely tucked away. “All that dancing made me hot.”
“Yeah, I can see that.”
Vanessa smiled and leaned against the table again. “Hmmm, I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment.”
Jonah started to reply, but before he could, Vanessa’s gaze caught on something—or should she say someone—on the other side of the room.
Without stopping to think about what she was doing, she laid a hand over Jonah’s and said the first thing that popped into her head. “Hey, architect, want to be a hero?”
His gaze dropped to their hands for a moment, and then he looked at her again. “Excuse me?”
“There’s a cowboy—tall, big shoulders, plaid shirt—heading this way.”
Jonah quickly looked around the bar. “You do realize you’ve just described about every man in here?”
“This one’s wearing a hat like your brother’s...I know, a lot of men are, but he’s standing on the other side of the third pool table and stealing glances at me with a determined look on his face.”
This time Jonah glanced to his left and Vanessa watched as the two men made eye contact. Oh, boy, she hoped this was a good idea.
“Is that bothering you?” He turned back to her.
“Well, ever since I told him I don’t kiss on the first date, he’s been angling to get me to go out with him again.”
Jonah’s hazel eyes darkened. “For a second date?”
“Third, actually. I didn’t kiss him the last time, either,” she hurried to explain, wanting him to understand. “I just wanted to get to know him a bit better, but no sparks, ya know? I told him it would be better if we were just friends, but the guy won’t take no for an answer.”
At that moment Eli returned, setting two beers and her glass of ice water down with a noisy clank before pushing their drinks across the table. “Your friends decided to stop by the ladies’ room—drinks in hand—so who knows if we’ll see them again. Hey, look at you. Getting more comfortable?”
“Much.” Vanessa reached for her glass, enjoying a long sip of the cool liquid. She didn’t know if her throat was so dry because of the dancing or this crazy idea of hers. “Oh, I so needed that.”
Jonah took a long swallow from his beer. “Yeah, me, too.”
“So, what do you say?” She set the glass back down, and gave him a gentle squeeze. “Help a girl out?”
Eli’s gaze bounced back and forth between them, before it landed on her hand on Jonah’s wrist. “Ah, did I miss something?”
“I just need a favor from your brother.”
“Jeez, I’m the one who bought the lady a drink.”
Jonah shot his brother a dark look, then turned to her again. “What do you want me to do?”
Now that he was agreeable, Vanessa realized she was at a loss for ideas. Boy, what else was new?
Was it enough they were standing here, practically holding hands? Maybe she should slide a bit closer? Press up against his shoulder?
Biting down on her bottom lip, she tried to come up with something when the jukebox switched songs and a classic country music ballad came on.
“Dance with me,” she said.
This time Eli laughed. “Oh, you’ve picked yourself the wrong rescuer, Vanessa. If there’s one thing Jonah doesn’t like to do, it’s dance.”
Okay, maybe it would be enough if she just stood next to him. Surely, her admirer wouldn’t cause any trouble if it was clear she was here with someone else, and now that Eli was back...
“How presumptuous of me. I’m sorry.” She released her hold, her fingers lightly sliding back across his skin. “I guess I’ve got to learn that I can’t assume every man in town is a cowboy or likes to two-step. Never even thought—”
Jonah surprised her by capturing her hand in his. “Come on, let’s dance.”
Jonah ignored the shock on his brother’s face, especially when it morphed into a smirk. He instead concentrated on the surprise—turned delight—on Vanessa’s. Her asking him to dance was just another way she’d surprised him since she’d walked up to their table tonight. Her table. Hell, since he’d walked into his resort and found her standing there.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
He shot a glance at Vanessa’s admirer, who looked vaguely familiar and was heading their way. Releasing her hand, he gestured toward the already crowded dance floor. “After you.”
She rewarded him with a bright smile and then turned on one heel of those sexy boots. Moving in close behind her as they maneuvered around the tables, he placed a hand at the small of her back. Her top felt slightly damp and the heat of her skin easily melted through the soft cotton material to warm his fingertips.
Damn, there went those sparks again, just like the glowing spatter from a welder’s torch to steel, these figurative sparks would burn just as easily of he got too close.
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
His brother was right. Jonah had never been a big fan of dancing and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d done any two-stepping, slow speed or otherwise. And since she’d stripped off that sweater and wore nothing but a flimsy tank top that showed off toned arms and sexy cleavage, how was he going to hold her in his arms and not—
They reached the parquet floor and instead of waiting for an opening crowded outer circle of couples, Vanessa moved into the fray, spun around and assumed the position.
He moved in, placing one hand just beneath her left shoulder blade and lightly took her right hand in his. Two quick steps, one slow and—
“Oh!” Her booted foot knocked right into his. “Sorry about that.”
“That’s okay. It’s takes a few minutes to get into the swing—” She did it again and ending up bumping into the couple behind her when she tried to back away and find her rhythm at the same time.
“Sorry about that, folks,” he said to the man when he turned and glared at him over his shoulder, then focused again on his dance partner. “Vanessa, do you know how to two-step?”
Her nose scrunched up. “Not really. I’ve been watching the couples when I’m here at the bar and I want to learn, even though it’s not on my—” She stopped and bit down on her bottom lip for a moment. “I’ve been concentrating on line dancing.”
Jonah glanced to his left and found the center of the dance floor filled with couples, but moving much slower. He stepped out of the ring of couples