And judging from Rachel"s long-suffering sigh, it was about to get worse.
“I might as well tell you now.” Her long fingers stroked his toothpick. “I"m flying to New York tomorrow.”
“Gonna give East Coast sex a try for a change?” Though the question was meant in jest, the purse of her lips made his shoulders tighten.
Great. Just frickin" great.
“I"m going to…connect with an old friend.”
“Ever consider connecting with your oldest friend?” When she rolled her eyes, he could tell she"d taken his statement as yet another joke. Damn best-buddy curse.
“Which old friend?” His suspicions mounted at her silence. “I didn"t know you knew anyone in New York, except—”
Rachel nodded briefly. “I"m going to see Ryan.”
She waited for his response, even if it were merely an assessing flicker of his mossy green eyes. She got nothing.
Typical Shawn. If he was disappointed in her, a Tibetan monk made a chattier companion.
“So you"re just going to sulk now?”
“I"m hardly sulking.” He tossed back his drink in two swallows. “It"s your life.
Your choice what you do with it.”
She tapped her glossy fingernails on the glass tabletop as the music shifted to something more upbeat. The last rays of sun had disappeared, but the pinprick white lights draped between flaming tiki torches lit up the night. Even the air changed, becoming sultrier, sexier.
California nights couldn"t be beat. Unless you were trying, as she was, to get away before the life everyone thought you should be living closed in around you.
It wasn"t as if she was leaving town permanently. Was it really so awful she wanted to take a vacation? To do something impulsive without getting the public consensus first?
“I value your opinion. I—” Her heart gave a nasty jolt as he reared to his feet and seized her suddenly limp wrist. “What"re you doing?”
He glared at her, firelight gilding his golden hair. Smoking in his unfathomable eyes. “It"s called dancing. Let"s do it.”
Because the phrase let’s do it made her a bit too hot and shivery, she took a steadying breath. “Oh.” She rose and shoved her chair back from the table. Her arms and legs couldn"t seem to work together, leaving her feeling no more coordinated than a marionette bopping on the end of a string. “Weird time to dance, don"t you think?”
Shawn tugged her away from the table and onto the makeshift dance floor.
Before she could argue further, she was in his arms, her body neatly cleaved to his.
Chests, stomachs, thighs. Right on down the line.
Her pulse tripped a moment before her feet. What was the matter with her tonight? “I was trying to have a serious conversation. Not to—” Her stumbling feet stopped altogether at the solid column of heat pressing into her belly. Her eyes widened. “You"re hard!”
He didn"t even have the courtesy to look ashamed. Actually he appeared amused. “You don"t say.”
Rachel rubbed her hand over her mouth, easing back to keep from bumping into it again. “I"m your best friend. You shouldn"t get aroused when you"re dancing with me.”
“Why not? You"re a beautiful woman.” He spun her out smoothly, brought her back so his body spooned hers and his long, thick length nestled into the cleft of her ass. She closed her eyes, appalled that her heart rate climbed with every sway of his hips. Oh, God, this felt so good. So incredibly intimate, even with the other couples dancing just a few feet away.