“Let’s go. That dress belongs on the dance floor.” Nikki grabbed Deanna’s hand and pulled her out of her chair.
Deanna protested through laughter while being dragged through the tables. Jane, his cousin Adam’s fiancée, was being forcibly tugged alongside Deanna.
The three women giggled and did what he could only assume was their version of twerking. His mind might’ve known that Deanna’s seductive moves were borne out of joking around with the girls, but his body did not. His Spidey senses went on full alert as he felt a stare and sliced his eyes across the table.
Eli was glaring at him.
He stood, and Lucky saw the look in his eyes that clearly communicated he was going to ask Lucky to step outside. Thankfully, Vivien intercepted him and convinced him and Audrey to join her and Chris out on the dance floor.
Although Lucky was relieved to not have to deal with Deanna’s cousin giving him the third degree, warning him to stay away from her, or whatever he had been about to do, he had to give the dude props for having the balls to step to him. Most guys wouldn’t. He liked the guy even more than he already had.
Still, the questions Eli could’ve asked were crashing around in Lucky’s head like bumper cars driven by drunk people. Deanna was a good girl. She wasn’t a girl someone messed around with. She was the kind of girl whose finger you put a ring on, and Lucky had no intention of ever walking down that plank. The right thing to do was to leave Deanna alone.
Yet he found his gaze shooting back to her. His eyes locked on Deanna as she swayed her hips, her hands up in the air while she shimmied and turned in a circle.
Leaving her alone might’ve been the right thing to do.
But Lucky wasn’t really known for doing the right thing.
Chapter 12
‡
Deanna couldn’t remember the last time she’d let loose and had this much fun. Maybe it was all the pent-up sexual tension from having been inches away from Lucky for the last hour. Maybe it was that she hadn’t been out dancing since her freshman year of college. Or maybe it was because the aforementioned sexual tension had caused her to down four glasses of wine during dinner. Yeah, it was probably the latter.
Whatever the reason, the second she’d started dancing, she’d let every inhibition she usually carried around with her fly right out the window.
She had no idea how long she, Nikki, and Amy had been out on the dance floor. But it had been enough time to wear out several groups that had joined them. Jane had lasted three songs before Tessa had joined them for two. But then she was intercepted by a very worried fire chief who wanted his wife “off her feet.”
As the music slowed, Amy’s husband crossed the floor and pulled her into his arms at the same time that Mike did the same with Nikki.
Looked like fun time was over. Deanna started to walk off the dance floor, but saw Casey walking towards her. He had blond hair, blue eyes, and was extremely good-looking. He wasn’t really her type, not that it would matter, anyway. No way would she ever date someone in her house.
“Never piss where you eat,” her old lieutenant liked to say.
Not that she’d needed the warning. It was difficult enough to be taken seriously in this male-dominated occupation. Hooking up with a fellow firefighter wouldn’t do anything to help that plight.
Still, one dance couldn’t hurt. Plus, Casey wasn’t really interested. Not only because of their work situation, but also because she was Eli’s cousin. Another rule in the brotherhood of firefighters was you don’t mess around with exes or sisters. She might not be Eli’s sister, but she was close enough.
Casey stepped up to her and offered her his hand. “Can I have this—”
“No,” a deep, male voice sounded beside her.
Before she had a chance to respond, a large arm locked around her waist and she was spun smack-dab into a brick wall—a.k.a. a chest she was becoming very familiar with.
She blinked up at the man who’d just pulled her into his arms. “What are you doi—”
“We’re dancing,” Lucky answered with a lopsided, mischievous grin she was sure he’d used more than once to get out of trouble or into it, depending on the situation.
She wasn’t sure which this was, but regardless, a thrill skittered down her spine and stopped right between her legs. Then he plastered her body to his as he began swaying to the music. Leading with an authority and ease that took her breath away—literally—Lucky glided them across the dance floor.
After sucking in a shaky breath, she tried to convince herself that it was a gasp of the startled-slash-offended variety, and that it had nothing to do with arousal. That was her story and she was sticking to it. Then she summoned conviction she wasn’t really feeling to insist, “You can’t do… We’re not going—”
“I just did.” The lopsided grin spread into a full-blown, panty-melting smile that was a dangerous combination of disarming, devilish, and seductive. “We are.”
“No. We’re not.” To not let her body’s unwanted reaction to his ridiculous display show, she stepped back and gave him a shove.
It was a tactical error on her part. Lucky used the force of her push to dip her from left to right in a semicircle, “Dirty Dancing” style.
Deanna had never been dipped before in her life, much less dipped with that much flair. When she was standing up straight again, she couldn’t help the smile that tugged on her lips. Her hands rose and found their home on his shoulders. The excitement from her real-life Johnny-and-Baby moment gave her temporary amnesia. She completely forgot that Lucky had hijacked her into this dance and that she needed to stop it immediately.
Her feet were floating across the floor as if she were dancing on air, without any effort on her part. They weren’t just swaying back and forth like the other couples surrounding them. No, he had them doing a box step, or a waltz or something. She wasn’t sure, but she liked it a whole lot more than she should have.
“Where did you… How did you learn to do that?” Lucky hadn’t missed a beat and was still moving their bodies as she posed her breathless question.
His facial expression sobered. The transformation from happy-go-Lucky to serious-go-Lucky was staggering. Her fingers tightened around his muscled shoulders—whether it was to comfort him or steady herself, she had no idea.
A phantom of a smile flickered on his lips as he continued leading them in perfect rhythm to the slow music. “My mom loved to dance, and when I was around nine or so, she found out about free dance lessons at the community center. She was determined to go. Levi was busy in high school, and Logan never wanted to.” Lucky took in a shaky breath of his own as his brown eyes misted. “So I went with her. We took ballroom classes every Tuesday night for about three years.”
The man holding her in his arms, wasn’t the cocky and confrontational competitor she’d seen in interviews. He wasn’t the deadly and dangerous fighter she’d seen in his cage matches. He wasn’t the charming and charismatic playboy of his public persona.
This man was raw and real. Seeing this side of him demolished her carefully constructed defenses with dynamite-like destruction.
“Why did you stop going?” She hadn’t meant to ask the question. In fact, as she’d heard herself asking it, she’d wished she had a mute button.
His life was none of her business. He was none of her business. Apparently, her mind hadn’t gotten that memo.
“She died.” Lucky’s voice was flat and emotionless. His expression grew blank, and she saw the moment the light that always shined through his caramel-colored gaze, extinguished.
Deanna’s heart broke for him. Her relationship with her parents was far from ideal, but they were both there. Alive. She’d never had to deal with losing anyone close to her and couldn’t even begin to imagine how painful it must be. Not knowing what else to say, she said the two words she was sure he’d heard a million times and held no comfort for him.
“I’m sorry.”
A small glimmer of light flick
ered in his eyes as the corners softened. Then his hand gripped her lower back a little tighter. “It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”
Even knowing that her pity was probably the last thing he would ever want, in a barely audible voice she said, “I’m still sorry.”
He didn’t answer. Didn’t try to reiterate that it was fine. Instead, he slid his hand up her bare back and threaded his fingers in the hair at the base of her neck, as they stared into each other’s eyes. The energy between them had shifted in the last few moments, and now, it crackled with the intensity of a roaring fire. His fingertips raked her scalp, and a flush of tingles spread though her entire body.
For a brief moment, she was absolutely sure he was going to lower his head the few inches separating them and close the distance between their mouths. Her lips parted with anticipation, and her heart beat so hard that it felt like horses were galloping in her chest.
Breathing in deeply through his nose, he rested his forehead against hers, their gazes locked. Then, just when she thought the kiss she was waiting on pins and needles for was going to happen, he surprised her. Instead of touching his lips to hers, he pulled her closer to him so her cheek was resting on his shoulder. She was simultaneously relieved and disappointed. If she was being honest with herself, disappointed was tipping the scales.
Then, as fast as the disappointment had come, it was gone. It was then replaced in an instant with a feeling so intense that her knees wobbled. Thankfully, Lucky’s strength held her up.
He rubbed slow circles on her lower back with his right thumb as the fingers of his left sensually massaged the base of her neck. Need radiated from his body. Not just need in the sexual sense, although she couldn’t miss the very large, very hard evidence of his arousal pressed against her stomach. But the urgency, that was so overwhelming that she could barely breathe, was altogether different. The way he touched her, the way he held her, was like he needed her.
Not her body. Her.
Closing her eyes, Deanna let herself feel the power in his embrace as he continued swaying their bodies in perfect synchronicity. She let the moment they’d shared wash over her. His heartbeat pounded beneath her cheek as she pictured him going to a dance class at nine years old with his mom. Then another image flashed in her mind. This one was of him at twelve, in a suit, standing in front of his mother’s casket.
Her eyes filled with tears for a virtual stranger. A man she wasn’t even sure she liked. A man she needed to stay away from. A man she’d just shared an intimate moment with while fully clothed, in the center of a crowded room.
At that realization, her eyes popped open. Couples were swaying all around them. How had she forgotten that? How had the entire world ceased to exist? How had everyone around them disappeared from her consciousness?
Whatever had passed between the two of them, powerful as it’d been, was gone like a snap of a rubber band. Awareness flooded her. Awareness of how masculine and clean Lucky smelled. How strong his muscled body felt against her soft curves. How safe she felt beneath the touch of his hands. How arousing his roughened fingertips felt as they brushed her smooth skin. How shallow and labored both of their breathing had grown. And the worst—and arguably the scariest—effect this dance was having on her senses, was how natural it felt to be wrapped in his chiseled arms.
Like this was exactly where she belonged.
Like she was home.
All of Deanna’s life, she’d been searching for a place to belong. As a child, she’d never belonged in her mother’s or her father’s worlds. And as much as her aunt and uncle had made her feel like she was their daughter, as much as her cousins had made her feel like she was their sister, she wasn’t.
Even at their home, during the happiest times of her life, she’d felt like an outsider. When she’d volunteered with Ladder 26, she’d learned a lot, but she still hadn’t been one of them. Maybe one day she’d feel like she belonged in Hope Falls with Ladder 16, but that would take time. She was a probie—she had to earn her place yet.
But in the middle of a crowded dance floor, in the arms of a virtual stranger—a sexy virtual stranger, but a virtual stranger nonetheless—that was exactly what she felt. Like she’d found her place in the world.
Panic gripped her. Her blood ran ice cold, and her entire body stiffened like a board. Lucky released his hold on her head and reached beneath her chin to tip her face up towards his.
His brow furrowed. “What’s wron—”
But the music faded and the lights came up as Henry’s voice played through the speakers, interrupting Lucky’s inquiry.
“All right, folks. It’s about that time! Please make your way back to your seats and I will announce the winning bids.”
A roaring applause erupted, but Deanna barely registered it. This dance had made her feel something she’d promised herself she’d never feel again at thirteen when her mother had lied to her about the photo shoot. And again at fourteen when her father had lied to her about the summer. And then at eighteen when her boyfriend had lied to her to sleep with her.
Vulnerable.
As everyone made their way back to their seats, Deanna legs wobbled beneath her. She hoped she could make it back to her seat without falling flat on her rear. If she could do that, then her plan was to hear the winners announced and make as quick an exit as possible after. No goodbyes, no see you laters, no small talk. Just make it to the door, her car, her home, her bed.
Tomorrow, she would wake up. Go for a run. Report to the station and put whatever had happened out on the dance floor behind her. It might not have been the best plan in the world, but it was all she had.
*
Lucky followed behind Deanna and flexed his hands at his sides, suppressing his caveman-like instinct to throw her over his shoulder and drag her out of there so he could get to the bottom of her sudden one-eighty.
One moment, they’d been dancing. No, not dancing—connecting. In fact he’d felt more intimate, in sync, and in tune than he’d ever had with another person. Then it was over. Their souls had been fused together, their bodies silently communicating the epic-ness of the moment, and then, in the blink of an eye, it was gone.
Maybe the whole thing had been a fluke. Maybe it had happened because he’d talked about his mom, something he hadn’t done since…ever. Maybe all the stars had aligned and caused a cosmic occurrence.
Whatever the reason, Lucky wanted to find out why it ended so abruptly that it’d given him emotional whiplash.
“Excuse me.” He used his high school football skills to juke several people in order to keep up with the woman who couldn’t seem to get away from him fast enough.
Not that it really mattered if he kept up with her. They were both headed to the same table. She would be stuck sitting beside him while they announced the winners. She might not want to be near him, but for the next half hour, give or take, thankfully she didn’t have a choice.
Thanks to her impressive bob-and-weave skills, Deanna was already seated when Lucky finally made it back to the table. He was no body language expert, but he didn’t have to be to see that she might as well have had a “Do Not Disturb” sign painted across her forehead. Her body was angled away from his chair, her jaw was tense, her spine was stiff, and her gaze was laser-focused on the stage.
Stepping past her, Lucky had every intention to let her be no matter how badly he wanted her, no matter how he felt about her. Girls who got pissed over nothing were his pet peeve. Especially the ones who shut down when they were mad. In his experience, being around someone like that wasn’t only an energy drain, it was also a fun drain. And Lucky was all about having fun.
A lot of women could call him an asshole and be one hundred percent justified. But not her. He’d never done anything even borderline asshole to Deanna. His worst offense so far had been cutting in when firefighter boy had tried to ask her to dance. Well, that and bribing Sue Ann to switch her table, but since she didn’t know about that, the likelihood of that being
the stick currently shoved up her ass was slim to none.
He might have determined to leave Deanna alone, but best laid plans…
As he slid into his seat beside her, his knuckles inadvertently brushed the back of her upper arm. The second they were skin to skin, a tremor ran through her body. And she wasn’t the only one affected by the innocent contact. A jolt of arousal shot straight to his already aching, and most likely blue, balls.
Before he could stop himself, he leaned forward and whispered against her ear, “I don’t know why you’re upset. But I’m sorry.”
What the…
Sitting back in his chair, he was dumbfounded. Had he just apologized? His mind was trying to catch up with his mouth. Why had he done that? He had no problem saying he was sorry if and when he was at fault. But he’d already established that he hadn’t done anything wrong, so why in the hell had he just atoned for a sin he hadn’t committed?
His brain was still busily trying to justify his actions when Deanna peered over her shoulder. Her brow was furrowed and she looked just as confused as he felt.
“What?” she asked.
Since she was actually talking to and looking at him, he was going to go with it, justified or not. So he repeated, speaking only loud enough so she could hear him, “I said, ‘I don’t know why you’re upset, but I’m sorry.’”
Her mouth twisted and her face pinched at his words. They seemed to shoot her confusion from a five straight up to a ten. But, before she had a chance to ask one of the many follow-up questions swimming around in her expressive eyes, the mayor took the mic again and began his announcements.
Shaking her head almost imperceptibly, she pursed her lips and turned her attention to the stage. Lucky wanted to continue his conversation with Deanna more than anything, but now wasn’t the time or place.
For the next twenty minutes, Henry Walker entertained the crowd as he read off the winning bids, but Lucky was only half paying attention. When the winner of his contribution was announced, he waved and smiled but barely registered it. He couldn’t really concentrate on anything but the brunette beauty who had somehow flipped his world upside down and inside out in the short time he’d known her.
Lucky Kiss Page 12
