What You Need(42)
“What if you do?” she countered.
“Then you’re exactly the type of woman I need to help me set that inner wild man free.”
“Sure, I’ll do it. But I do have a couple of conditions.”
“Name them.”
“You have to meet me halfway. I don’t know you well enough just to create a bucket list for you and enforce it.”
This woman impressed the hell out of me. “Agreed.”
“And your list can’t only be sexual positions you haven’t tried.”
Watching her eyes, I sank my teeth into the fleshy skin at the base of her thumb. “That’s one area where I don’t need help getting wild, baby.”
Her eyes darkened with heat as she casually sipped her martini. Then she asked, “Did we come here to dance? Or just to eye-fuck each other all night?”
Mr. Larken stopped by our table. “Mr. Lund. How is everything?”
“Good. I have a question. Does your DJ take requests?”
“For you? Of course.”
“Do you have a pen?”
He passed it over and I moved the beer mug off the cocktail napkin. I wrote down my selection, folded a twenty inside the napkin and handed it to him.
“If he could play it in the next half hour, I’d appreciate it.”
He nodded and backed away.
“Now, you want to get back to the eye-fucking? Or shall we return to the ‘getting to know you’ small talk that I suck at?”
“Small talk.”
“Fine. What did you mean when you said you came back to the Twin Cities? When did you leave?”
Lennox tried to extricate her hand from mine, but I held on. “Anything you tell me stays between us. Anything,” I emphasized.
She sipped her drink. “My home situation was a nightmare, so I dropped out of high school and went on the road with a rock band for a few years. Then I bounced around, Omaha, Kansas City, Quad Cities, other places. I mostly worked in bars and the food service industry. And when yet another sorority girl puked all over me, I’d had enough of that life. Once I found out the business practices and clerical support program had openings for nontraditional students, I applied to the vocational school here and got accepted into the two-year program. After I graduated, I had a hard time finding a job—as I told you before. Then I went to work for LI.”
She’d lived a wilder life than I’d imagined—and I knew she’d just skimmed the surface. “Were you in the band?”
“No. My best friend Taylar’s brother Travis was the lead guitarist and singer. She dated—and eventually married—the drummer. I got tired of chasing someone else’s dream.”
“You were involved with Travis?”
“Yeah. Travis was a great guy. Just not the guy for me.” She gave me a wry smile. “What about you?”
“I never toured with a rock band, but I did kick my brother Walker’s ass at the video game a bunch of times.”
Lennox laughed. “That’s not what I mean, smart-ass.”
“My life has gone according to plan. I just want to spice it up.”
“I imagine you’ve got a very sweet life.”
“Most days. Doesn’t mean it can’t be improved upon.” I glanced down and saw I’d finished most of my beer. Then I noticed Lennox had shoved her empty martini glass aside and was drinking water.
The waitress returned. “Another round?”
“I’m good for now. Lennox?”
“Same here.”
The opening notes of my requested song started. I stood and held my hand out. “Come on. They’re playing our song.”
“You requested ‘Smooth?’”
“It’s a great tango tune.”
She froze. “Brady. I don’t know how to tango.”
I brushed my lips over hers. “Tango is all about knowing how to move your body. And you had no problem doing that on top of the bar.”
“But it’s not the same thing as a formal dance.”
“Follow my lead and trust me.”
Chapter Eleven
Lennox
‡
Trust me.
I was having a mild panic attack.
First, in a case of nerves, I’d blurted out my misspent youth. Now I would look like an even bigger idiot because of course a classy man like him knew how to tango.
Every episode I’d ever watched of Dancing with the Stars zipped through my mind and not a single movement stuck.
Then we were on the dance floor and I was trapped.
Brady clasped my right hand in his left. He flattened his palm against my lower spine and scooted in so we were chest to chest. “All you need to do is move with me, Lennox. There’s four beats. Slow¸ quick step, quick step, slow. Forward first, then back.”