He could identify. He smiled at her. “This’ll be fun,” he promised.
Once he had them on the floor, he went into his steps and her eyes lit up. She was tentative and clumsy-footed, but since she didn’t weigh much he was able to strong-arm her into most of the moves. He was vaguely aware of a few people watching, so he got bolder. He swung her out and then drew her back and spun them in a showy circle. The song was about to end, so he pulled out a couple more fancy steps. And then he got really bold and flipped her. Success!
This was greeted by applause from the people nearest them as the song ended.
“Wow,” Amanda said. “Jonathan, you’re an incredible dancer.”
“How come you couldn’t do that with me?” demanded Daphne, who was coming off the dance floor at the same time.
“I just...I don’t know,” he finished lamely.
“Well, if you’re lucky, I’ll give you a second chance,” she threatened.
“Uh, thanks,” he muttered, and got away from her as fast as he could.
He didn’t get far though. Another one of the girls from band had him by the arm. “Jonathan, how about a dance?”
“Sure,” he said.
“Can you spin me like you did Amanda?”
“Oh, yeah,” he said with newfound confidence.
After that dance, two more girls were waiting.
And so it went for the next hour, Jonathan spinning girls right and left like so many plates. He finally pleaded thirst and went in search of a drink.
There at the bar, as if she’d been waiting for him, stood Lissa in a black dress that hugged her every curve. Looking at her took his breath away, and the fact that Rand was standing beside her was irrelevant. “You’re pretty popular tonight,” she said.
“I guess,” he murmured.
“That’s a switch,” Rand sneered.
Jonathan ignored him, choosing to concentrate on something more important—smiling at Lissa.
“I didn’t know you could dance like that,” she said.
“I have a lot of hidden talents,” Jonathan told her, and asked the bartender for a beer.
“So, did you save me a dance?”
“Anytime you want it.”
“After this one, maybe,” Rand said, and began to escort her away.
Jonathan remembered the list he’d made. A hero was forceful, took charge. This, he concluded, was the time to show a little strength.
He blocked their way. “How about now?” he said, and took Lissa’s hand and drew her toward the throng of dancers.
“Oh, well, sure,” she said, following him, meek as a lamb.
The DJ had just started a slow song, U2’s “Sweetest Thing.” It had a funky beat but he thought he could make it work for a nightclub two-step. If he didn’t have a heart attack first. The old ticker was suddenly thumping like crazy.
This was it, the moment he’d been waiting for since middle school. He was finally getting to dance with Lissa. A true romance hero would start this dance off with an impressive one-liner. All Jonathan could think of was, “You look lovely tonight.”
“Thanks,” she murmured, then added, “I’m not sure I can keep up with you.”
“I bet you can,” he said with a smile. “I’m betting you know the nightclub two-step.”
“That I can do.”
And she did it beautifully. She matched him step for step, keeping up with every clever move he threw at her. It was as if they’d been dancing together for years.
They had, in his dreams.
The song was half-over; he needed to make the most of it. He drew her against him so they were chest to chest, heart to heart. Close up her face was perfect, her skin like cream. Look how long her lashes were. She smelled like a flower garden in bloom. Best of all, she felt like he’d always imagined she would—soft, womanly, a perfect fit for him, as if they’d been made to go together.
He folded her hand in his. “You know, this is the first time I’ve ever gotten to dance with you.” And he was going to remember it all his life.
She smiled, showing off the dimples in her cheeks. “You make it sound like that’s something special.”
“It is.”
“Aw, Jonathan, you’re so sweet.”
He didn’t want to be sweet. He wanted to be sexy. He wanted to be someone she wanted, not just her old childhood pal or her favorite math tutor or computer nerd.
He was about to say that when the music ended, and there was Rand, sweeping her off. “Come on, Liss, you’ve already wasted one slow dance. Don’t cheat me out of any more.”
She made a face at him and shook her head, but she let him take her away. How could she not? Rand was like a steamroller, twice as forceful as Jonathan.
Frowning, he went back for his beer. He found Kyle at the bar, getting drinks.
“You were lookin’ good out there,” Kyle said. “Until you let that ape take your girl.”
“She’s not my girl,” Jonathan said grumpily. He picked up the beer and chugged it down.
“Yeah, and she won’t be at the rate you’re going.” Kyle gave him a friendly nudge. “Come on, man. You’re the dancing king here tonight. Lissa’d be glad to go another round with you. Heck, every woman on the floor has her eye on you. Even Mindy wants to know if you’ll dance with her.” They both spotted Daphne coming toward them, a determined look on her face. “If you’re not gonna dance with Lissa, you’d better go hide before Daphne traps you.”
“Tell her I went to the john. She can’t get me in there.”
“I wouldn’t put it past her.”
Damn it all, he didn’t want to hide out in the john all night. Instead, he’d melt into the crowd. He’d done that all his life.
He moved to another side of the hall, but Daphne followed him like a heat-seeking missile. After dodging her for two songs, he resorted to making his escape to the men’s room and shut himself in a stall so he could think. He had to figure out how to stay a free agent so he could get Lissa away from Rand. That jerk didn’t deserve her. Never had.
And you do?
Okay, truth be told, he didn’t, either. She could do much better than him. But she could do a ton better than Rand.
But maybe she wanted to be with Rand. Maybe she wanted to rekindle the old flame. If she did, who was Jonathan to tell her she couldn’t? He leaned his head against the stall door, a defeated man. Why the hell hadn’t Rand stayed married and in California? Jonathan swore and gave the stall door a whack.
The sound of voices alerted him that he now had company in the men’s room. One he was pretty sure he recognized as Cam Gordon. The other—Rand. Jonathan’s hands curled into fists.
“I’ve never seen anybody who can move as fast as you,” Cam said. “You planning on sleeping with Lissa tonight?”
There was a depressing image.
“Why not? She wants it.”
Cam snorted. “For old times’ sake?”
“Something like that.”
“Well, I’m not one to ruin anybody’s good time, but don’t you think it’s kind of shitty?” Cam said. “Considering you’re still married.”
“Separated,” Rand corrected.
“Yeah, sure. I heard you say this morning that you two were getting back together.”
“I might have said that. But she’s not here, so what the hell.”
That shit! Jonathan burst out of his stall just as Rand was zipping up. “You bastard,” he growled, and went right for his neck.
“What?” Rand whirled around.
Jonathan almost succeeded in getting his hands on his rival’s neck, but Rand had had a lot more experience being a bully than Jonathan had being a hero. It was a short scuffle. Jonathan took a punch to the jaw and went down. He was still trying to cope with the spinning room and the stars twinkling in front of his eyes when Rand said, “Help me get his pants off.”
Next thing he knew he was missing his britches and was receiving a friendly kick in the gut for good measure.
<
br /> “You just stay here, Twinkle Toes, and mind your own business,” Rand growled. And on that bit of advice, he and Cam and Jonathan’s pants left the men’s room.
Chapter Twenty-One
Jonathan lay on the floor of the men’s room, trying to cope with the agony in both his body and his heart. The throbbing in his jaw and the pain in his stomach were fighting for attention and making it hard to concentrate on even sitting up. He managed to get to a kneeling position but was sure he’d pass out right there on the floor.
The heroes in the novels he’d read all seemed to survive the most brutal of attacks, stagger up and race off to save the heroine. Or at least help her save herself. And right now Lissa needed help. She needed to know that Rand was about to use her.
There would be no racing off here, though. He could barely breathe. Why didn’t any of those novels tell you how to cope when you’d been beaten up? He sat there, hunched over the pain, trying to take in air. Get up. Go find Lissa. You can do this. His body didn’t seem to agree.
After what felt like hours, he made it to his feet and got to the sink, where he splashed cold water on his face. After that he couldn’t do much more than lean there, concentrating on the all-important task of breathing.
The bathroom door opened and Jonathan became aware of a new pain, the pain of embarrassment. He was now officially in his nightmare, at his fifteen-year high school reunion in his boxers. What had he ever done to deserve this kind of humiliation?
“What the— Jonathan?”
He turned his aching head to see Darrell Hornsby staring at him.
“I was mugged.” Pain shot across his jaw and he put a hand to his face. He looked in the mirror. The bruise was already showing.
“You’re kidding. Here?”
Mugged in Icicle Falls. Boy, there was a good story for the police blotter. Local man beaten at high school reunion. Assailants take victim’s pants. He didn’t want to be a victim and he wanted his pants back!
“They took your pants,” Darrell said, just in case Jonathan hadn’t noticed.
Which had his cell phone and his wallet. God knew what they’d done with them. He had to get to Lissa. How was he going to do it without his pants? He needed pants.
He needed his posse. “Get Kyle.”
Darrell nodded and rushed off.
A few minutes later, he was back with Kyle. “My God, I can’t believe it!” Kyle rushed up to him.
“Who did this? Rand?”
Jonathan nodded. “And Cam.”
“Are you okay?”
It was hard to talk around his throbbing jaw. “I need...pants.”
“You need a doctor!”
Jonathan shook his head. “No time for that. Find my pants. They’ve got to be in a garbage can somewhere.”
“Too obvious,” Darrell said. “You could look all night and never find them.”
“Hang on. Didn’t Adam say he was taking Chelsea to dinner at Schwangau?” Kyle pulled his cell phone from his pocket. “He can grab some pants from your place and be here in ten minutes. And I’ll get some ice for that jaw. We’ll have you fixed in no time,” he promised.
“I don’t have ten minutes! Ow, that hurts.” Jonathan put a hand to his throbbing jaw.
“Okay, I’ll look around here and see if I can find where they ditched your pants, but meanwhile I’m calling for backup. And then those guys’ll pay.”
Kyle came up to their shoulders. The last thing Jonathan needed was his friend getting the crap beaten out of him. “Not your fight,” he said. “Just find me some pants.”
Kyle nodded and strode from the room, punching numbers on his phone as he went. “Go outside and keep watch,” he instructed Darrell. “We don’t want anybody seeing our boy like this.”
Darrell scooted out after Kyle, valiantly ignoring the need that had brought him to the men’s room in the first place.
* * *
Adam and Chelsea were snuggled together in a quiet corner booth at Schwangau when his cell phone started vibrating in his pocket. He’d promised Chelsea he’d turn it off, but had decided that switching to vibrate was a good compromise. Now, with her cuddled next to him, he realized that some things a man shouldn’t compromise on and ignored the vibrating phone.
He’d learned his lesson. He smiled at her and raised his wineglass in toast. “Here’s to the prettiest mom in Icicle Falls.”
“I’m not a mom yet,” she said, but she smiled and clinked his wineglass with her water glass.
“Okay, the prettiest mom-to-be.” He laid a hand on her leg. It was so good to be able to do that, to be here with her, back where he belonged.
The phone in his pocket vibrated again. Damn. Who was it and why the hell were they bugging him on a Saturday night?
The waiter came and they placed their orders.
“I love this restaurant,” she said happily after he’d left.
“And I love you,” Adam said. He leaned over and kissed her.
“You really have changed,” she said.
His pocket vibrated again.
She made a tiny frown. “What’s that I hear?”
“Gas,” Adam improvised. “I’ve got gas.”
“For a minute I thought your phone was vibrating.”
“I said I’d turn it off.”
Fortunately, she didn’t ask, “And did you?”
The thing vibrated again. Okay, whoever it was, Adam was going to kill him. “I’m gonna hit the john. I’ll be right back,” he said, and gave her another kiss.
Once in the bathroom, he pulled out his phone and saw that all the calls had been from Kyle. He was at his high school reunion with Mindy. Why the hell was he calling Adam, to give him a blow-by-blow report?
Adam called him back. “I’m right in the middle of a romantic dinner. What do you want?”
“Pants,” Kyle said. “Somebody beat the crap out of Jonathan and took his pants and he needs another pair.”
“What?”
“Pick up a pair of his and bring ’em over to Festival Hall. He’s in the men’s room.”
Kyle hung up before Adam could ask why the hell Kyle couldn’t go fetch pants for Jonathan himself.
Great. Here was his wife waiting for him at their table and his pal waiting at Festival Hall for pants. Chels was right; he should have turned off his cell.
But he owed Jonathan big-time and he couldn’t leave the man stuck shivering in the bathroom in his tighty whities. He’d given Jon back the key to his place. How did Kyle think he was going to get in, climb through a window? Go through Chica’s dog door? His own house was closer. He and Jon were about the same height. He could bring a pair of his.
Could he be back before Chels figured out that he’d taken off? If he drove fast... Yes, he could do it. He’d race to his place, then over to Festival Hall, throw some pants at Jonathan and be back in time for...if not the salad, at least the entree.
He slipped out of the bathroom, then down the fashionably dark hall and out the door. He was in his Corvette in less than a minute and rocketing down the street. He could do this.
He was halfway to his house when the siren and flashing red light stopped him.
* * *
“This should help,” Kyle said, handing over a bar towel full of ice.
Jonathan winced as the contact caused fresh pain.
Kyle gave him a bottle of water and a couple of aspirin. “Take these.”
“Where’d you get them?” Who knew about this?
“Mindy.”
He’d told her?
As if reading his mind, Kyle said, “Don’t worry. She doesn’t know what’s going on. Nobody does. I couldn’t find your pants, but Adam’s gone to get you a pair. And Darrell’s outside watching the door. If anybody comes in, we’ll hustle you into a stall.”
“Where’s Lissa?”
Kyle made a face. “This is not the time to worry about Lissa.”
“Yes. It is. Rand’s still married. He’s looking for a one-night sta
nd and he’s going to seduce her. I heard him telling Cam.”
“That asshole.”
“She needs to be warned.” But the clock was ticking. For all he knew, Rand could already be spiriting her away. He didn’t have time to wait for a new pair of pants. “You’ve got to find her.”
Kyle nodded and left.
Jonathan slumped against the sink. He’d imagined so many scenarios for tonight, all of them with Lissa ending up in his arms. Now she was going to end up in the arms of a creep who only wanted to use her to feed his ego. And here he was, stuck in the men’s room in his underwear. Some hero.
* * *
“Do you know how fast you were going?” Tilda, the cop, asked Adam.
“Yes,” he admitted. “I had an emergency.”
“License and registration, please. A fire?”
Oh, boy. Now, he’d stepped in it. If he said he was on a mission to get pants for his friend, she’d want to know why. If he told her that Jonathan had been mugged, she’d want to go to the scene of the crime. Everyone would see Tilda going into the men’s room. Everyone would find out that Jonathan had gotten beaten up and had his pants stolen. That was no way to help a friend. But what to say now?
Nothing, that was what. “You know, I guess it wasn’t that big an emergency,” he said. “I’ll take the ticket.”
“Good choice,” she said, and took her own sweet time walking back to her patrol car to write it up.
So much for getting Jonathan’s pants to him in a hurry. And so much for getting back to his wife quickly. Adam ground his teeth.
* * *
Kyle returned to the bathroom. “She’s gone.”
Rand had already gotten her away. Under different circumstances Jonathan would have admitted defeat and let Rand make off with the woman of his dreams. If that was what she wanted, that was what she wanted. This wasn’t some historical novel where he needed to save a woman’s virtue. These days women didn’t want their virtue saved.
But they also didn’t want to be used. Jonathan felt even sicker than he’d felt after Rand had kicked him. Rand was a modern-day villain who didn’t care about anyone but himself. He was going to seduce Lissa and she’d wind up getting hurt. She didn’t deserve that. And Rand didn’t deserve her. Where was Adam with his pants?
What She Wants Page 27
