Burn for Me(4)

Images flashed before her eyes. Her hands on his waist, the hard planes of his abs, his hips. Her holding on to him.

She didn’t want to give in, but maybe if they danced just once—one dance, that was all—she would get him out of her system. She could say good-bye to this wild kernel of lust that ping-ponged through her body whenever she saw him. Prove to herself that the ridiculous attraction she felt for Smith was misplaced.

“Okay. Let’s dance.”





Chapter Two

He hadn’t scripted out the night.

He hadn’t come to the party to try to get close to Jamie.

But only because they were friends, and had been since he moved to town from Georgia a few years ago after he’d finished college. He’d restrained himself, knowing he wasn’t her type, and wanting to keep her as a friend. Sure, they had fun together, and they could chitchat for hours like they had at the bar tonight. But he knew anything more was unlikely. She’d always gone for the more serious, more studious, more buttoned-up kind of guy.

But with the sheen of a buzz backing him up, a dance sounded like the perfect nightcap. He’d take what he could get, and just the chance to be closer to the woman he wanted would have to be enough.

When they reached the quiet back room, he pulled her in close, his hands on her waist, hers on his shoulders. Her fingers were restless, as if she was unsure where to place them.

“You ever dance before, Jamie Lansing?” he asked, unable to resist teasing.

“Yes I have, thank you very much.”

“What kind? Ballroom? Swing? Salsa?”

She rolled her eyes, but went with it, grabbing his hand and positioning their arms together in a sharp line as if they were poised to tango. “Tango, of course,” she said, and he threw his head back and laughed at her attempt. “Or would you rather we square dance?” She asked in a fake Southern accent. “That more your speed?”

“Oh, make fun of my heritage, why don’t you?”

She shrugged. “Can’t resist,” she said, mimicking his drawl.

“You are too much. Why the hell do I put up with you?”

“I could say the same to you,” she tossed back.

“Same,” he said and wiggled his eyebrows.

“You are such a goof. You’re never serious,” she said.

He rearranged his features in a dour look. “Better?”

“Maybe,” she said, but she was smiling, so he tugged her in closer. “So how’s the construction going? Are you almost done?”

He shrugged. “Soon, I hope. I’ve been getting calls to do other jobs, and would love to take them on too. But I’d have to hire some men before I do that.”

“So hire some men to help you,” she said as if the answer were that simple. And sure, it was that simple to her, and he got that. They were close friends, but he rarely shared the inside details of his business with anyone, even her. He kept certain things to himself. A man’s work was a man’s work.

“That comes with its own damn set of problems,” he said, a note of annoyance creeping into his voice, though he wasn’t annoyed with her for asking. He’d been wanting to expand his business and take on some new jobs, but the last time he’d hired new employees, one of them had stolen some jewelry on a job. Since then, he’d handled every job solo. Better to do it himself. The last thing he wanted to talk about was work, and problems, and the things beyond his control. He wanted to stay 100 percent focused on this moment and nothing more—the present was what mattered. “Besides, I’m all about avoiding problems. I don’t care for them,” he said, shooting her a lopsided grin. “Let’s talk about something not involving work.”

“Fair enough,” she said. “No more work talk.”

They danced silently for a moment, and she pressed her hands lightly against his shoulders, as if she were nervous to hold him.

“It’s okay,” he said, eager to take the teasing to another level. Jamie was always so buttoned-up and proper in how she spoke, never uttering a swear word, and he would love to see her loosen up. With him. “Your hands aren’t weighing my shoulders down.”

“I was terrified they were,” she joked.

“Or were you trying to cop a feel?”

“You wish,” she said with a pouty curve to her lips.

“Maybe I do,” he countered, stripping away the sarcasm as they moved slowly in the dark corner to the sexy beat of the music, their shadows casting doubles of them across the exposed wood of the wall. His fingers wrapped around her hips, his thumb gently stroking her hipbone once, twice. Damn, she felt good.