I sipped my wine and attempted to return my attention to the people sitting around me, but it wasn’t easy.
“…Fun?” Adam was saying.
“What?”
He raised his voice slightly. “Having fun?”
I was, more or less, even if I couldn’t help being distracted by that gorgeous Zorro. “Oh, yeah,” I replied, and lifted my wine glass in sort of a “cheers!” motion.
Adam lifted his beer bottle in return. That was his third, if I’d been counting correctly. Oh, well, he didn’t have to drive home at least. His parents had a big Victorian on the same street as Aunt Ruby’s house, but he’d moved out this past summer, getting himself an apartment over the ice cream store on Main. Like the rest of the McAllisters, he had his own stipend to live on, but he was also pretty handy and helped out with the various renovations and repairs that seemed to be going on around town at all times. He’d mentioned getting his contractor’s license, but I didn’t know if he was actively working toward it or not.
On my other side, Anthony and Sydney were sort of hanging all over each other…not kissing, but they might as well be. I didn’t really appreciate the PDA, since I didn’t want them giving Adam any ideas. However, I figured a “get a room” remark wouldn’t go over very well, either, so I sighed and took another sip of wine, and hoped the band would start up again soon.
I didn’t know if my wishing had anything to do with it, but Lara and her bandmates returned to the stage a few minutes later. “We thought we’d ease into this set,” she said, her voice a teasing growl. When she sang, she sounded like she’d spent the last ten years smoking cigarettes and drinking whiskey in every back-road saloon within a hundred-mile radius…which was actually a good thing.
The bassist started, a slow succession of notes, and Lara snarled into the mic, “I put a spell on you….”
A voice said from somewhere over my right shoulder, “Do you want to dance?”
I looked up. Zorro stood there, smiling down at me. Dumbfounded, I could only gape up at him, until Sydney kicked me — sans stilettos, luckily — and I said, “Um…sure.”
He held out a black-gloved hand and I took it, rising to my feet as Adam glowered from the seat next to me. I supposed I couldn’t blame him too much, since I’d steadfastly refused to slow dance with him, yet here I was taking off with the first stranger who’d asked.
But he wasn’t just any stranger….
His hand still holding mine, he led me out onto the dance floor and to a spot somewhere close to the middle. Feeling more than a little awkward, I put one hand on his shoulder and my right hand on his left. He pulled me close, but not too close. At least in that position I was able to look up into his face, to get a better glimpse of the eyes half-obscured by the mask.
Brown. Dark brown.
Disappointment stabbed through me, even as I told myself not to be an idiot and to just enjoy the fact that he’d asked me to dance out of all the girls here…especially since he hadn’t danced with anyone else all night.
“So are you a local?” he asked.
“Oh, yeah. Born and bred. Well,” I added, “not born, I guess. I was born in California.”
He smiled. “That’s cool.”
“Not really. My mother brought me here when I was less than a month old.”
A nod. “Have you ever gone back?”
There was a loaded question. At least, it was loaded to me; he probably thought it was innocent enough. Just making conversation. “No. I don’t get out much. What about you?”
“Well, if you’re a local, then you know I’m not.”
“True. I’d definitely remember you.” Oh, that was brilliant. If both my hands hadn’t been occupied at the moment, I probably would have smacked myself on the forehead for making such a stupid comment. Hot blood rushed to my cheeks, and I hurried to ask, “So where are you from?”
Another grin, his teeth flashing in the dimly light room. “Scottsdale. Well, my family is. I’m going to ASU right now, so I live in Tempe.”
It all sounded so refreshingly normal. “What’s your major?”
“I’m working on my master’s in studio art.”
Hunky and artistic? I might as well have custom-ordered him. He was so close to me, too, his body only a few inches from mine. The only other times I’d ever been this close to a guy my age were when a candidate swooped in for his kiss. Then that made me think of what it might be like to kiss this stranger in the Zorro costume…and I knew my thoughts were veering in a very dangerous direction. Voice a little breathless, I said, “That’s really cool. We have lots of artists here in Jerome.”