They'd reached the restaurant. Jack parked the SUV and came around to Caitlyn's side to open the door for her. As she climbed out, she stopped him. "I think it also says a lot that he felt comfortable enough to lay down the law to you."
Jack considered her assessment of the situation. "Maybe you're right. I'm hoping he'll get to the point that he'll tell us who he really is and why no one has reported him missing."
It was time to lighten the mood. "But enough about Ricky. If I can't cut in on his time, it's not fair if we spend our entire evening talking about him."
She smiled up at him as they walked into the restaurant. "So, you mentioned something about dancing, but you didn't say what kind you prefer. Should I have worn some cowgirl boots instead of heels?"
Jack winked at her. "That would've been fine with me. I've hit my fair share of places where the favorite dance is the Texas Two-Step."
He paused to check in with the hostess, who led them to a small table next to the front window. After they were seated, he continued. "However, for tonight I thought I'd let you choose. There's a small dance club near here that my brothers like with a live band that plays rock, R&B, and some more contemporary stuff. They also mentioned a nightclub that's a little farther away that features traditional ballroom music."
Caitlyn looked a bit skeptical. "You really enjoy ballroom dancing?"
He pretended to be insulted. "You doubt my dancing skills?"
She bit her lower lip as if unsure how to proceed. Finally, she admitted, "I guess I didn't think the tango and the waltz were part of Special Forces training."
It was time to take pity on her. "It wasn't, but my mother thought a man should know his way around the dance floor. All three of us had to learn to do more than what she called just ‘twitching' to music."
He grinned. "Actually, both Joe and Marlene loved dancing of any kind. You should've seen them doing the polka at a friend's wedding reception. It was quite a sight."
So was catching them dancing in the hallway outside of their bedroom back when Jack had first moved in with them. Joe had grabbed his wife and twirled her out and then back into his waiting arms. Marlene's smile had been the one Jack soon realized she saved just for her husband. Even at fourteen, he'd known that dance had been just the lead-in act for what was to follow after they disappeared into their room and shut the door.
He wouldn't mind a few dances along that same line in his own life. The thought had an intense, but uncomfortable effect on the fit of his slacks. Luckily, the return of the waitress came as a welcome diversion from the direction his thoughts had taken. After they placed their orders, he redirected their conversation.
"So tell me about how you became interested in teaching."
-
The prawns had been excellent, as was the wine that Jack had ordered to go with their dinner. After studying the list of the restaurant's wine selections, he'd chosen a bottle of white wine from one of Washington's many wineries. It was one she'd never had before but really enjoyed. In between courses, they'd had a lively discussion about their favorite vintages. His knowledge on the subject surprised her a little.
"I would've thought you would have preferred beer to wine."
Jack grinned at her. "There's no reason to choose one over the other. With fish-and-chips, I like a cold beer, while a good wine goes better with broiled halibut. I have to admit that one of my favorite things about living in the Pacific Northwest is the huge number of wineries and microbreweries."
From there the conversation wandered on to other subjects as the two of them became better acquainted. Finally, Jack handed her the dessert menu to study.
"And don't tell me you shouldn't. That's a given. One reason desserts taste so good is the guilt that goes along with ordering them. Personally, I'm going to have the apple tart with a scoop of vanilla ice cream."
A man his size could handle those bazillion extra calories loaded into everything on the dessert menu better than she could. Of course, that wasn't going to stop her from ordering a piece of the triple-chocolate pie or maybe the crème brûlée. Opportunities to eat at a restaurant like this one didn't come around all that often.
Evidently he assumed her hesitation was due to her trying to find a polite way to decline. "Come on, Caitlyn. How often do you give in to temptation?"
Studying the handsome man sitting across the table, her heart was screaming the answer to that question, which was, not nearly often enough. Jack McShane definitely belonged on the dessert menu and came with his own set of dangers. Unfortunately, she was pretty sure she wouldn't be able to resist him any more than she could chocolate and whipped cream.
"Fine, I'll have the triple-chocolate pie."
And hope that the dancing they were headed for next would burn off not only the calories but also her sudden hunger for Jack himself.
-
In the end, they decided to try the dance club that Jack's brothers both liked. When he opened the door, the pounding music hit them like a physical blow. The heavy, pulsing rhythm had Caitlyn's lungs fluttering in her chest. It was either that or her extreme awareness of Jack's arm around her waist and the press of his powerful body against her side as the two of them fought their way along the edge of the writhing crowd of dancers toward an empty table on the far side of the club.
A waiter immediately appeared at the table. Jack ordered a beer, but Caitlyn asked for a soft drink. Her escort was already clouding her thoughts enough without adding alcohol to the mix. The music was too loud to make conversation easy, so they sat in companionable silence and enjoyed the pounding rhythms as the live band segued from one song right into the next.
When their drinks were delivered, Jack asked the waiter to run a tab. After taking a quick chug of his beer, Jack stood up and held out his hand. "Shall we?"
Caitlyn let him lead her out onto the dance floor. The band was playing a song about hot summer nights, which was one of her favorites, not that it mattered. Any song with a beat meant for dancing was just fine with her. The only question was if she and Jack would suit as dance partners. Back in the day, on the few occasions she'd been able to coax Josh out onto the dance floor, they'd never quite meshed no matter what the dance style. Even when slow dancing, they'd mostly bumped toes as they'd shuffled two steps in one direction and then two steps back.
Looking back, she would've saved herself a lot of heartache if she'd been smart enough to realize those few dances would become the metaphor for their entire marriage. Instead, she'd given up dancing and nearly everything else that brought her pleasure before the whole fiasco had come to an end.
Memories of the past threatened to overwhelm her. But the second Jack took Caitlyn in his arms, the two of them meshed perfectly. He knew it, too. After just a few steps, he busted out a few moves that left them both grinning. Although she'd noticed he sometimes favored his one leg, there was no sign of it tonight, and she loved that he preferred to hold hands as they danced rather than merely standing close together.
It had been a long time since she'd spent this much time dancing, and three songs later she was feeling the effects. Not that she wanted to sit one out. Who knew when, if ever, she'd have another chance to indulge herself in an evening spent with a handsome man who danced with her as if they'd been partnered for years instead of a handful of songs.
Then the lights dimmed as the band played the opening strains of an old Bon Jovi ballad. Jack tipped his head to the side and held out his hand, evidently leaving it up to her if she wanted to slow dance with him. Why not? At first, he held her close, but not too close. It didn't take long for it to feel perfectly natural for his hands to settle on her hips while hers traveled upward to encircle his neck. The tips of her breasts brushed against the hard expanse of his chest, setting off a fierce ache that spread through her body. She wanted more of his touch, more hard contact, in fact, just plain more!
He must have felt the same, because one powerful arm wrapped around her waist to pull her flush against the length of his body as he bent his head down to rest against hers. Neither of them said a word as they swayed ever more slowly to the smooth melody. His scent was intoxicating, a heady mix of aftershave, sweat, and the faint tang of the beer he'd been drinking.