kiss him first thing every morning and last thing every night.
Joe had cultivated that private future during his years of incarceration, and then throughout his long months of training for the paratroops. His imaginings would probably become even more elaborate once he hit the front lines.
Thinking of the dark clouds to come put his problems in perspective. Heart beating hard in his chest, he pushed back through the crowd toward Lulu and her smug date.
Even knowing he’d hate himself when she shot him down again, Joe couldn’t leave it alone. He wanted a dance. That was it. After all, Lulu and her daring didn’t fit into his perfect future. She never would.
The RAF captain looked about ready to deck him. “Yank, I said—”
“Look, this isn’t anything,” he said to Lulu, ignoring her scowling partner. “It isn’t even one night. It’s just a dance. Lulu, I know how much you want to dance.” He hooked a thumb toward the captain. “This Limey’s just going to jabber your ear off.”
Her lips quirked toward a smile. “Very well. The last dance.”
“The last dance?” Joe blinked, sure he’d misheard. Then he pressed on. “I can do that.”
“And what will you do in the meantime?”
Maybe it was the way she kept her gaze pinned on his while she sipped her drink, seemingly so in control. The Devil took control of Joe’s tongue. “I’m gonna dance with as many pretty girls as will have me.”
Lulu wordlessly handed the empty glass to the captain. He scowled first at Lulu, then at Joe, and walked away. She hadn’t stopped studying Joe’s face. “You’re bluffing. You’ll be sitting here at the bar, biding your time, watching me. Brooding.”
“I do not brood.”
“I’d wager a month’s salary that you do. And probably quite handsomely.”
“Nope, I’ll be dancing,” Joe said, crossing his arms. “By the time the last song starts, I’ll have danced with more partners than you.”
“Don’t talk rubbish.”
“Care to make it a bet?”
She licked her bottom lip. “For what stakes?”
“If you win, you get to weasel out of our last dance and I won’t bother you again. If I win, I get to walk you home.”
“That’s a mile out of your way!”
“Two, actually. Two miles.”
The pulse at her neck fluttered. Maybe she was thinking about waiting to catch the train into Sileby and how long the walk to Mersley would take. Maybe she was thinking about holding hands and talking quietly, just sharing each other’s company. And maybe she was thinking of the good-night kiss he’d most certainly claim.
Joe was.
“You are a prize fool, you know that?”
He laughed. God, it felt good to have her panicky and unsure for a change. “I’ve known too many clever people for that to be an insult.”
“This is ridiculous. How would we even keep track? How would either of us know that we’re not inflating our totals?”
Joe placed his hands on her hips and pushed Lulu back. When her bottom bumped the bar, she uttered a little squeak. He leaned closer and whispered into the shell of her ear.
“I’ll know because you’ve got one thing right: I will be watching. I’ll be counting your partners. I’ll catalog their faults. I’ll remember which ones made you laugh and which ones tried more than dancing. And I’ll convince myself you’re only in their arms to spite me.” Feeling daring and electric, he brushed a kiss along the side of her neck and smiled when goose bumps sprinkled over her flesh. “And you’ll be doing the same.”
“Idiot,” she said, pushing him away. She slid a hand over the spot he’d kissed. Her dark brown eyes were fiery, snapping with vigor. But then she beamed, a smile to set him alight. “Are you ready?”
“Sure.”
“Go.”
chapter eight
Lulu’s annoyance lasted all of ten seconds, but the tingle of Joe’s lips against her neck lingered even as she grabbed the nearest soldier and hauled him onto the dance floor.
Propelled by music,
Joe had cultivated that private future during his years of incarceration, and then throughout his long months of training for the paratroops. His imaginings would probably become even more elaborate once he hit the front lines.
Thinking of the dark clouds to come put his problems in perspective. Heart beating hard in his chest, he pushed back through the crowd toward Lulu and her smug date.
Even knowing he’d hate himself when she shot him down again, Joe couldn’t leave it alone. He wanted a dance. That was it. After all, Lulu and her daring didn’t fit into his perfect future. She never would.
The RAF captain looked about ready to deck him. “Yank, I said—”
“Look, this isn’t anything,” he said to Lulu, ignoring her scowling partner. “It isn’t even one night. It’s just a dance. Lulu, I know how much you want to dance.” He hooked a thumb toward the captain. “This Limey’s just going to jabber your ear off.”
Her lips quirked toward a smile. “Very well. The last dance.”
“The last dance?” Joe blinked, sure he’d misheard. Then he pressed on. “I can do that.”
“And what will you do in the meantime?”
Maybe it was the way she kept her gaze pinned on his while she sipped her drink, seemingly so in control. The Devil took control of Joe’s tongue. “I’m gonna dance with as many pretty girls as will have me.”
Lulu wordlessly handed the empty glass to the captain. He scowled first at Lulu, then at Joe, and walked away. She hadn’t stopped studying Joe’s face. “You’re bluffing. You’ll be sitting here at the bar, biding your time, watching me. Brooding.”
“I do not brood.”
“I’d wager a month’s salary that you do. And probably quite handsomely.”
“Nope, I’ll be dancing,” Joe said, crossing his arms. “By the time the last song starts, I’ll have danced with more partners than you.”
“Don’t talk rubbish.”
“Care to make it a bet?”
She licked her bottom lip. “For what stakes?”
“If you win, you get to weasel out of our last dance and I won’t bother you again. If I win, I get to walk you home.”
“That’s a mile out of your way!”
“Two, actually. Two miles.”
The pulse at her neck fluttered. Maybe she was thinking about waiting to catch the train into Sileby and how long the walk to Mersley would take. Maybe she was thinking about holding hands and talking quietly, just sharing each other’s company. And maybe she was thinking of the good-night kiss he’d most certainly claim.
Joe was.
“You are a prize fool, you know that?”
He laughed. God, it felt good to have her panicky and unsure for a change. “I’ve known too many clever people for that to be an insult.”
“This is ridiculous. How would we even keep track? How would either of us know that we’re not inflating our totals?”
Joe placed his hands on her hips and pushed Lulu back. When her bottom bumped the bar, she uttered a little squeak. He leaned closer and whispered into the shell of her ear.
“I’ll know because you’ve got one thing right: I will be watching. I’ll be counting your partners. I’ll catalog their faults. I’ll remember which ones made you laugh and which ones tried more than dancing. And I’ll convince myself you’re only in their arms to spite me.” Feeling daring and electric, he brushed a kiss along the side of her neck and smiled when goose bumps sprinkled over her flesh. “And you’ll be doing the same.”
“Idiot,” she said, pushing him away. She slid a hand over the spot he’d kissed. Her dark brown eyes were fiery, snapping with vigor. But then she beamed, a smile to set him alight. “Are you ready?”
“Sure.”
“Go.”
chapter eight
Lulu’s annoyance lasted all of ten seconds, but the tingle of Joe’s lips against her neck lingered even as she grabbed the nearest soldier and hauled him onto the dance floor.
Propelled by music,
Similar Books
