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Oh well, there was no time to pick it up. I was a woman on a mission. My eyes scanned the tent until I found him standing on the other side of the dance floor.
I started walking toward him with a sexy sway in my hips, and like a scene in a movie, the sea of people on the dance floor parted.
When I reached him, I asked the question I’d been wishing he would have asked me all night. “Do ya wanna dance?”
I wasn’t so far drunk that I didn’t recognize my speech was a little bit slurred. Still, that was a small price to pay for the liquid courage I gained. Right? Sure.
“C’mon.” I lifted my arm, which felt heavier than usual, and my palm landed on his chest. Beneath his crisp white button-down shirt I’d fantasized about unbuttoning or even ripping off of him I could feel the heat of his body and the pulsing of his heart. “Less dance.”
“Are you sure dancing is a good idea?” Cash held my elbow and steadied me as I wobbled on my two inches too tall heels that I’d chosen because they made my butt look good in my dress.
“Yes!” I fisted my hand around his shirt and dragged him onto the dance floor.
As he walked behind me, I felt powerful. Sexy. In charge. This was going even better than I’d hoped.
