Stand-In Mom. Megan Kelly
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bodies with their clasped hands. “You know, been out. Not since … being single again. I didn’t want to be alone tonight, but coming to a party of strangers?” He shook his head.
“It’s hard the first time, but it gets easier.”
The twist of his mouth expressed his doubt. Would he make the effort again? Her mood deflated. He still had a thing for his ex. She could help him over this first hurdle, but she doubted he’d be interested in trying.
Although he remained in her arms, Scott wasn’t really with her anymore.
“I’m sorry.” His words came out forced. “I’m not very good company, I guess.”
“Don’t worry about it. Let’s finish the dance, okay?”
He nodded and led her to the music, dancing several steps in silence. Gradually his body relaxed. “Nice song.”
His breath whispered across her temple.
“Good band.”
“Exceptional partner.” He laid her hand on his chest, patting it into place.
She started when she felt his left hand go to her waist. After a second, he pulled her closer until she pressed flush against his body. His hesitation must have been to test her willingness. If he only knew.
We’re in a hotel, she wanted to say. Test me upstairs. I’ll show you willing.
But she didn’t say anything—with words. Instead she linked her hands behind his neck, letting a finger stroke against his nape. She felt his shiver.
When the song ended, Scott looked into her eyes. “Another? Or would y’all prefer that drink now?”
The intensity of his hazel eyes made her mouth go dry, but a glass of wine wouldn’t alleviate the problem. A kiss from Scott might. “I’m fine here.”
“This one,” the bandleader said, “is for those of you who are missing family this time of year.”
They began playing “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,” and Scott stiffened.
“Want to get out of here?” He shook his head. “No, wait. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. Outside maybe? The terrace—is there a terrace? Doesn’t matter, it would be too cold.”
Ginger smoothed her hand down his tie. “Wherever.”
He blinked.
“We could go out and walk in the lobby for a minute.” Get him away from the music and the memories.
He held her hand, dodging dancers and groups on the edge of the dance floor. Ginger avoided making eye contact as they passed. Some of these people would recognize her if they looked closely—her hair shone like neon—although few would have seen her dressed so elegantly. More likely, they knew her with paint under her nails rather than on them. Her Cinderella clothes would have to come off. She grinned, hoping for the moment to happen sooner rather than later.
She followed him out of the ballroom to the long carpeted hallway. The lights were dimmed, creating shadows for quiet conversations. Mirrors and slim tables lined the walls of the one hundred-and-fifty-year-old hotel, alternating with insets of maroon vases containing various white flowers. They strolled to a deserted area farther along, where a wide window overlooked the snow-covered grounds.
“Sorry,” Scott said. “Y’all sure pulled the short straw with me.”
She laughed, running her eyes over his long form. “I don’t think so.”
“Not literally, maybe,” he agreed. “But your other partners tonight wouldn’t have fled the dance floor like the room had caught fire.”
He pronounced it “cot far,” making her suppress a grin. And he thought he didn’t have a twang?
“Hey.” She tugged his hand to make him stop walking and face her. “I’m not out here with anyone else. I came out with you.”
His expression softened. “I appreciate that.”
Then his words caught up with her. “Have you been watching me dancing all night?”
“You’re very popular.”
Her chin lifted. “Then why didn’t you ask me to dance earlier?”
“You’re very popular.”
“What does that mean?”
Scott shrugged. “I don’t deal well with competition.”
Had his wife cheated on him? Ginger swallowed, hoping he hadn’t asked anyone about her. Since her ex-husband left her, she’d filled some of her free time with men. It irritated her that she felt guilty about it now. With Scott. That early wild streak had mellowed once she’d decided to adopt a baby on her own; still, she had to live with her choices.
He squeezed her fingers. “But you dance as though there’s nothing more important than that song and that moment. Very full of life.” He stepped closer. “You look like a flame with your bright hair and yellow dress. And I wanted to be near that, to watch your green eyes light up and feel your body sway.”
Scott drew her to him and she forgot guilt. She only felt admired. As a woman, by a man. A shiver ran over her.
“Cold?” he murmured.
“Not even close.”
He grinned as he lowered his lips over hers, warm and persuasive. She didn’t need persuading, but she appreciated the gesture as she opened her mouth to him. Scott pulled her nearer, his hands caressing her back. Her stomach clenched with need and desire burned out any chills she might have had.
He put a hand against her cheek, eyes on hers. “This is wrong. It’s too fast.”
She might agree, but she doubted she’d ever get another chance with him. He attracted her like a compass needle finding true North. Judging by the intensity of his gaze, desire tugged at him, too. “It doesn’t feel wrong.”
“No, maybe it doesn’t.” His thumb traced across her lips. “But I don’t really do this.”
“I wish you’d make an exception.”
His eyes darkened before he bent to kiss her. Heat burst across her skin. His hands tightened, securing her to him, and she was grateful for the anchor as her head swam. When Scott pulled away, his face was flushed with need.
Ginger swallowed, nervous when she hadn’t been in ages. “Do you want to … do something about it?”
“Is that an invitation? Like ‘your place or mine?’”
She nodded. How would she bear it if he said no?
His lips brushed hers. “I’d like that. Very much.”
The truth of his declaration nudged her stomach as the kiss deepened. “So.” His kiss found her cheek, then his breath was at her ear. “Your place or mine?”
No way would she let him change his mind during a car ride. “What about here?”
He tilted his head in question. She’d thrown him a curve ball.
“It is a hotel,” she said.
“Good point.” His mouth crooked, making him look endearingly nervous. “I’ll go check availability.”
As Scott strode to the reservation desk, Ginger pulled out her cell phone. Relieved to get Lisa’s voice mail, she left a brief message. “It’s 9:40. If you don’t see me in the next hour, I’ve gotten a ride home.”
If all went well, no one but Scott would see her for several hours. Or until morning.
He came toward her with a big grin and a key card. “I’ve never done this before. Checked in to a hotel without luggage.”
She laughed.