"If you have any more trouble, give me a call," Tucker offered, and Jack looked up as Tucker slipped his armaround her shoulders.
"Okay, I'll remember that," she said. She stepped forward and grabbed Jack's hand. "Jack promised he'd dancewith me." She looked up at him with pleading eyes. "Didn't you?"
"Did I?"
"Yes."
He figured he had two options. He could leave her to Tucker or dance with her. He set his beer on the bar andslid his hand up her wrist to her elbow. "I guess I have a bad memory" he said. He took her arm and led heracross the room.
The band broke into a slow smoky rendition of the Georgia Satellite's "Keep Your Hands to Yourself." Jackstopped in the middle of the dance floor and placed Daisy's palm against his. He placed his other hand on herwaist and moved with her to the beat of the music. Through her thin dress, he felt the warmth of her skin. "Yougoing home with Coach?"
"He asked me." She set her hand lightly on his shoulder. "But no."
Her answer pleased him more than it should have, and he didn't like that one bit.
"I don't know where he got the idea that I'd actually consider it."
They moved past the stage and pink light shined in her hair, slid over her smooth forehead and cheeks, anddipped between her softly parted lips. "Maybe because your dress is so tight."
"It's not that tight."
He spun her then pulled her closer without missing a step. An inch of empty space separated her breasts fromhis chest, and he told himself that he held her there so he could hear her better. He brushed his thumb across thesoft material of her dress and said just above her ear, "It's so fight, I can see the outline of your bra."
"Why are you staring at my bra, Jack?"
"Bored I guess."
"Uh-huh." She pulled far enough back to look up into his face. "You're trying to imagine what I look likenaked."
He smiled as the band sang true love and sin.
"Buttercup, I know what you look like naked."
Within the dark shadows of the dance floor, she blushed. A pink flush that rose up her throat to her cheeks.
"Funny, I don't remember what you look like naked." Her eyes stared into his for less than a second before hergaze slid away and she focused on something beyond his shoulder.
She'd always been a bad liar. He didn't remember it ever bothering him before. For some reason, it did now.
"Did you know I was going to be here?" he asked her.
She returned her gaze to his. "No," she answered and he didn't know if he believed her. "Are you going to behome tomorrow?"
"Why?"
"Because I'm coming over."
He stared down into her face, with her sexy-as-hell eye makeup and full lips. "I don't remember inviting you."
"You just said you have a bad memory."
"Perhaps for some things. Other things I'm real clear about. Like I remember those boots."
She smiled and her hand slid to the back of his shoulder. "I know," she said. "I can't believe they still fit.
Remember when I used to wear them with my purple Wranglers?"
Purple Wranglers? He spun her a few times and hoped she got dizzy. While he'd been thinking about her braand couldn't get rid of the memory of those boots up around his ears, all she could think about was shit he didn'tcare about and didn't want to discuss.
He brought her back close to his chest and she said, "And remember the hot-pink prairie skirt? Lord what afashion nightmare."
Prairie Skirt? What the hell? Just for that, he should spin her until she puked. She was talking about stupid shiton purpose, just to make him insane. As if she wasn't thinking of hot sweaty sex, too. As if the sexual desirebetween them was all in his own head, when he knew, he just knew she had to feel it too. "Ah yes, the hot-pinkprairie skirt," he said even though he wasn't even sure what a prairie skirt was. He brought her so close, herbreasts brushed his chest, then he said, "I remember how it looked shoved up around your waist."
Her steps faltered as she pulled back and looked up at him. She licked the corners of her mouth. "I don't want totalk about sex."
Usually, he didn't either. Usually he was more of a doer than a talker. "Too bad." He slid his hand from herwaist to the small of her back. "You want to talk to me, I get to pick the subject."
"There are more important things in life than sex."
He supposed that was true, but at the moment he couldn't think of anything. "Name one."
"Friendship."
"Right," he scoffed. "Spoken just like a girl."
"No, spoken like an adult."
Now she was really pissing him off. Until she'd blown back into town, he'd moved on with his life. He'd takenon a big dose of adulthood at an early age. He'd finished raising his brother and had single-handedly rescued thebusiness after his father's death. Now, here she was, in her red boots and white dress, digging it all up again.
"Sex was a big part of our past, Daisy, but you don't seem to want to talk about that."
"It wasn't that big a part, Jack."
"Bullshit."
The song ended and she stepped back from him. "Maybe for you. But it wasn't that big a part for me," she said,then turned on the heels of those red boots and walked away.
* * *
Daisy tucked her chin and headed for the lady's room. Once inside, she wet a paper towel and pressed it to hercheeks. Her heart pounded in her throat and she looked at herself in the long mirror above the sink. Her eyesshined a hale too bright. Her face was a little too flushed. Her skin was ultra sensitive, every cell responding toJack's touch. He'd pulled her hard against him, and it had felt so good to feel the wall of his chest pressedagainst her breasts. It was a dang good thing she was leaving soon, because Jack reminded her of things betterleft forgotten. Like just how long it had been since she'd been with a man, and what it was like to feel the rawache of lust, hot and vital, tugging at her breasts and between her thighs. And it wasn't just his talking about sex,it was him. It was the touch of his hands, his thumb brushing her waist, the deep timbre of his voice in her ear,and the smell of his skin. She was afraid if the song hadn't ended when it did, she would have combusted rightthere in the middle of the dance floor.
A woman in a T-shirt with black fringe joined her at the sink and she scooted over to make room. "It's really hotout there," she said as a way to explain her flushed cheeks.
"A little."
Daisy tossed the paper towels in the trash and opened the door.
Jack stood with one shoulder against the opposite wall, and when he saw her he straightened. "When are yougoing home, Daisy?" he asked and stepped in front of her.
She looked beyond his left shoulder toward the crowded bar. "When Lily is ready to leave."
There was a hard edge to his voice when he clarified, "When are you going home to Seattle?"
His lids were lowered over his green eyes as he looked down at her. She took a few steps backward so shewouldn't have to strain her neck looking up. "Sunday."
He followed. "Day after tomorrow, then?"
"Yes."
"Good."
"That's why we have to talk tomorrow." She took another step back.
Again he followed. "Because you want to be friends and chat about the past."
"Among other things." Her shoulders hit the back door and he reached beside her right hip and turned the knob.
The door opened and he forced her outside. The warm breeze touched her face and neck and picked up the endsof her hair. He let go of the door and it slammed shut behind them.
The light above the door shined through his hair and lit up his green eyes and his knowing smile. "You don'twant to talk any more than I do."
"Yes, I do."
She moved away from him and somehow ended up pressed against the wood shingle siding of Slim's. Theystood within the deep shadows of the building and a big blue Dumpster. Thank goodness the bar didn't servefood, and the only smell coming from the closed Dumpster was stale beer and dust.