leaned forward and whispered, “The stuff makes me
crazy.”
Dante laughed. “I can’t imagine.”
Nadia took a sip of her soda and hopped back off the stool. Dante chuckled.
“What?” she demanded.
Dante scratched his chin and grinned. “Ah, nothing, princess. I was only wondering if you were even capable of sitting still for five minutes.”
“Nope. Come on, let’s dance. Ronnie steps on my feet, and Waynie … well, look.” She pointed to the dance floor. Waynie was swaying by himself to the song blaring from the jukebox, hilariously out of time with the music. He caught their stares and raised his glass in a toast.
Nadia lifted an eyebrow and said, “See what I mean?”
“Yeah, I do.” Dante’s brown eyes twinkled, and she didn’t need alcohol to make her feel tipsy. “But will you beat me up if I try to kiss you?”
“Hmmm.” She leaned in close, like she was going to kiss him, then pulled away. “I guess it depends on how nice you ask.”
“No fair,” he said, and let her lead him to the dance floor.
His big body dwarfed hers, and Nadia discovered she liked the feeling of him surrounding her.
Liked it a lot.
Being this close to Dante—touching him—left her shaky, a little unsure of herself. It was sensory overload. The soft skin that covered the hard slabs of muscle, the deep timbre of his voice, the wonderful scent of him. It was an intoxicating package.
Since he was so much taller, Nadia opted to wrap her arms around his waist and rest her face against his broad chest. One of Dante’s hands wound in her hair and the other caressed the bare skin on her upper back.
“It’s hard, dancing with the munchkin queen, huh, Dante?” Ronnie reached around them to grab a handful of peanuts from the bowl on the counter.
“Go away, Ronnie,” Nadia murmured, too content to even muster up a good insult.
“Just so you guys know, the music’s stopped,” he continued.
“Go away, Ronnie,” Dante said, smiling down at her.
“Fine, I can tell when I’m not wanted.” Ronnie grabbed the bowl and wandered off into the crowd.
Someone fed more money into the jukebox, and they slow danced to another song. Nadia stared up at Dante. He was too quiet, too tense.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
He looked away. “Nothing.”
“I can tell that something’s wrong.”
He frowned and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Okay. Yeah, something’s wrong. Can we go somewhere to talk?”
Nadia’s heart fluttered in her chest. Was he already tired of her? Was he going to tell her he’d made a mistake by staying?
“Let’s go outside,” she said.
Ronnie lounged by the door, and she held up a finger, indicating for him to give them a moment. He nodded.
A slight breeze was blowing, stirring the hot August night, and Nadia slipped her hand inside Dante’s. It gave her little reassurance when he squeezed her fingers.
When they walked by Waynie’s pickup, Dante surprised her by lifting her up and setting her on the hood.
He stood between her open knees and rested his palms on the metal on either side of her. Nadia held her breath when he leaned forward.
He kissed her hard, with a fervor that both shocked and thrilled her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, tugging him closer. When they finally broke apart, they were both breathing hard.
Dante pressed his forehead to hers, and she raked her fingernails lightly over his scalp. He shuddered, making them both laugh.
His fingers gently massaged the back of her neck as he asked, “What are you, some kind of witch?”
Nadia gave a startled laugh. “Well, I guess I’ve been called worse …”
“I barely know you, but I can’t stop thinking about you. I don’t usually let myself get so … distracted. Must have something to do with those green eyes of yours.”
Nadia couldn’t stop the idiotic grin that spread across her face at his words. “Yeah, well, just so you know … making out in bar parking lots with big, bald strangers
crazy.”
Dante laughed. “I can’t imagine.”
Nadia took a sip of her soda and hopped back off the stool. Dante chuckled.
“What?” she demanded.
Dante scratched his chin and grinned. “Ah, nothing, princess. I was only wondering if you were even capable of sitting still for five minutes.”
“Nope. Come on, let’s dance. Ronnie steps on my feet, and Waynie … well, look.” She pointed to the dance floor. Waynie was swaying by himself to the song blaring from the jukebox, hilariously out of time with the music. He caught their stares and raised his glass in a toast.
Nadia lifted an eyebrow and said, “See what I mean?”
“Yeah, I do.” Dante’s brown eyes twinkled, and she didn’t need alcohol to make her feel tipsy. “But will you beat me up if I try to kiss you?”
“Hmmm.” She leaned in close, like she was going to kiss him, then pulled away. “I guess it depends on how nice you ask.”
“No fair,” he said, and let her lead him to the dance floor.
His big body dwarfed hers, and Nadia discovered she liked the feeling of him surrounding her.
Liked it a lot.
Being this close to Dante—touching him—left her shaky, a little unsure of herself. It was sensory overload. The soft skin that covered the hard slabs of muscle, the deep timbre of his voice, the wonderful scent of him. It was an intoxicating package.
Since he was so much taller, Nadia opted to wrap her arms around his waist and rest her face against his broad chest. One of Dante’s hands wound in her hair and the other caressed the bare skin on her upper back.
“It’s hard, dancing with the munchkin queen, huh, Dante?” Ronnie reached around them to grab a handful of peanuts from the bowl on the counter.
“Go away, Ronnie,” Nadia murmured, too content to even muster up a good insult.
“Just so you guys know, the music’s stopped,” he continued.
“Go away, Ronnie,” Dante said, smiling down at her.
“Fine, I can tell when I’m not wanted.” Ronnie grabbed the bowl and wandered off into the crowd.
Someone fed more money into the jukebox, and they slow danced to another song. Nadia stared up at Dante. He was too quiet, too tense.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
He looked away. “Nothing.”
“I can tell that something’s wrong.”
He frowned and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Okay. Yeah, something’s wrong. Can we go somewhere to talk?”
Nadia’s heart fluttered in her chest. Was he already tired of her? Was he going to tell her he’d made a mistake by staying?
“Let’s go outside,” she said.
Ronnie lounged by the door, and she held up a finger, indicating for him to give them a moment. He nodded.
A slight breeze was blowing, stirring the hot August night, and Nadia slipped her hand inside Dante’s. It gave her little reassurance when he squeezed her fingers.
When they walked by Waynie’s pickup, Dante surprised her by lifting her up and setting her on the hood.
He stood between her open knees and rested his palms on the metal on either side of her. Nadia held her breath when he leaned forward.
He kissed her hard, with a fervor that both shocked and thrilled her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, tugging him closer. When they finally broke apart, they were both breathing hard.
Dante pressed his forehead to hers, and she raked her fingernails lightly over his scalp. He shuddered, making them both laugh.
His fingers gently massaged the back of her neck as he asked, “What are you, some kind of witch?”
Nadia gave a startled laugh. “Well, I guess I’ve been called worse …”
“I barely know you, but I can’t stop thinking about you. I don’t usually let myself get so … distracted. Must have something to do with those green eyes of yours.”
Nadia couldn’t stop the idiotic grin that spread across her face at his words. “Yeah, well, just so you know … making out in bar parking lots with big, bald strangers
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