for.”
“How is dancing with you supposed to teach me anything about country music?”
It was a fair question, but all he could think about was how she hadn’t complained about him touching her. He gathered her hand in his more securely and left his barstool. “Let’s check out the jukebox.”
It looked like the same jukebox that was in the bar back when he first played here. The music hadn’t been updated much, either. He took his time scanning the selections, shamelessly using it as an excuse to keep holding her hand.
“For God’s sake, just pick a George Strait song.”
He glanced at her. “You like King George? And you told me you didn’t know country.”
“I don’t know country but everybody knows George freaking Strait. Come on, I’ve been on my feet all night. Let’s get this dance over with.”
A wildly inappropriate reply hovered on the tip of his tongue, but he chose to keep it there. “I found the perfect song. Just so happens, it’s also George.” He fed quarters into the jukebox for three songs.
I Just Want To Dance With You eased out of the speakers. Wade pulled Daisy into his arms and led her in a simple slow dance. They moved easily together, swaying to the song’s gentle rhythm.
“This song is corny as hell,” Daisy said. She didn’t pull away from him, though.
“It’s relatable. Easy to dance to. Songs can be about simple things and still have a lot of power.” He drew her closer. “Wanting to dance with a beautiful woman might seem like a simple thing, definitely a common thing. It’s not always simple to make it happen.”
She was tall enough that they made eye contact easily. Amusement glittered in her eyes. “Yeah, sometimes a guy has to really make himself look like an idiot to get that dance.”
“It’s worth it.” Her body was warm under his hand through the thin material of her t-shirt. Her blond hair which had started out the night more or less straight now hung in loose waves down her back. She smelled sweet and summery even after working hard for hours, like fresh strawberries and cream.
If she noticed the song changing to another, she didn’t let on. She took her hand from his and moved it to his shoulders, draping both on either side of his neck. He accepted what felt like a wordless invitation, spreading his hands across the small of her back and pulling her even closer. She laid her head on his chest and if he’d been a cat he would have purred in satisfaction.
One more song and the jukebox fell silent. He didn’t want to let go. Daisy stepped out of his arms and cocked an eyebrow at him. “So what was it I was supposed to learn about country music from that?”
Shit, he had no idea what to say. “This lesson was about why George Strait is called King George.” He pointed at the door to the office. “Now, you go on and do your closing chores. I’ll sit out here and walk you to your car when you’re ready to go.”
She drew her eyebrows together, doubt painting her features.
Wade took out his phone and settled into a chair. “Go on now. I plan to go fishing tomorrow and I need to check the weather.”
Daisy shook her head and walked away.
Satisfied purring. Yeah, that was definitely the sensation in his chest as he watched her walk away. After he checked the weather he emailed Becky.
Send George Strait a bottle of his favorite whiskey for me please. Gone fishing. Your favorite client, Wade.
Chapter 12
D aisy dried her wet hands on a towel and grabbed her phone. “Hello?”
“Have you seen the paper yet?”
The voice was familiar, but not one that should have had her number. “Who is this?”
“It’s Wade.” The crinkling of paper sounded in her ears. “We made page three. Not that there’s many pages in this thing.”
Shit – the newspaper photographer who’d been at the Travers’ barbecue. She crossed the kitchen and slid into the breakfast nook where her laptop was already set up. She woke it up, impatient to see for
“How is dancing with you supposed to teach me anything about country music?”
It was a fair question, but all he could think about was how she hadn’t complained about him touching her. He gathered her hand in his more securely and left his barstool. “Let’s check out the jukebox.”
It looked like the same jukebox that was in the bar back when he first played here. The music hadn’t been updated much, either. He took his time scanning the selections, shamelessly using it as an excuse to keep holding her hand.
“For God’s sake, just pick a George Strait song.”
He glanced at her. “You like King George? And you told me you didn’t know country.”
“I don’t know country but everybody knows George freaking Strait. Come on, I’ve been on my feet all night. Let’s get this dance over with.”
A wildly inappropriate reply hovered on the tip of his tongue, but he chose to keep it there. “I found the perfect song. Just so happens, it’s also George.” He fed quarters into the jukebox for three songs.
I Just Want To Dance With You eased out of the speakers. Wade pulled Daisy into his arms and led her in a simple slow dance. They moved easily together, swaying to the song’s gentle rhythm.
“This song is corny as hell,” Daisy said. She didn’t pull away from him, though.
“It’s relatable. Easy to dance to. Songs can be about simple things and still have a lot of power.” He drew her closer. “Wanting to dance with a beautiful woman might seem like a simple thing, definitely a common thing. It’s not always simple to make it happen.”
She was tall enough that they made eye contact easily. Amusement glittered in her eyes. “Yeah, sometimes a guy has to really make himself look like an idiot to get that dance.”
“It’s worth it.” Her body was warm under his hand through the thin material of her t-shirt. Her blond hair which had started out the night more or less straight now hung in loose waves down her back. She smelled sweet and summery even after working hard for hours, like fresh strawberries and cream.
If she noticed the song changing to another, she didn’t let on. She took her hand from his and moved it to his shoulders, draping both on either side of his neck. He accepted what felt like a wordless invitation, spreading his hands across the small of her back and pulling her even closer. She laid her head on his chest and if he’d been a cat he would have purred in satisfaction.
One more song and the jukebox fell silent. He didn’t want to let go. Daisy stepped out of his arms and cocked an eyebrow at him. “So what was it I was supposed to learn about country music from that?”
Shit, he had no idea what to say. “This lesson was about why George Strait is called King George.” He pointed at the door to the office. “Now, you go on and do your closing chores. I’ll sit out here and walk you to your car when you’re ready to go.”
She drew her eyebrows together, doubt painting her features.
Wade took out his phone and settled into a chair. “Go on now. I plan to go fishing tomorrow and I need to check the weather.”
Daisy shook her head and walked away.
Satisfied purring. Yeah, that was definitely the sensation in his chest as he watched her walk away. After he checked the weather he emailed Becky.
Send George Strait a bottle of his favorite whiskey for me please. Gone fishing. Your favorite client, Wade.
Chapter 12
D aisy dried her wet hands on a towel and grabbed her phone. “Hello?”
“Have you seen the paper yet?”
The voice was familiar, but not one that should have had her number. “Who is this?”
“It’s Wade.” The crinkling of paper sounded in her ears. “We made page three. Not that there’s many pages in this thing.”
Shit – the newspaper photographer who’d been at the Travers’ barbecue. She crossed the kitchen and slid into the breakfast nook where her laptop was already set up. She woke it up, impatient to see for
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