It Started at Christmas...

She just smiled a little brighter, grabbed his hand, and tugged him toward the dance floor. “Dance with me?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” he teased, leading her out onto the crowded dance floor. “I’ve been itching to have you in my arms all evening.”

“All you had to do was ask.”

“Well, part of me was concerned about the consequences of holding you close.”

“Consequences?” She stared into his eyes, saw the truth there, then widened her eyes. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

“I guess it’s a good thing girls don’t have to worry about such things.”

His eyes remained locked with hers, half teasing, half serious. “Would that be a problem for you, McKenzie?”

A problem?

Her chin lifted. “I’m not frigid, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“It wasn’t, but it’s good to know.” He pulled her close and they swayed back and forth to th

e beat of the music.

“You smell good,” she told him, trying not to completely bury her face in his neck just to fill her senses totally with the scent of him.

“I was just thinking the same thing about you. What perfume are you wearing?”

“Cecilia sprayed me with some stuff earlier. I honestly don’t know what it’s called, just that she said it was guaranteed to drive you crazy. Of course, she didn’t tell me that until after she’d hit me with a spray.”

He nuzzled against her hair. “She was right.”

“Feeling a little crazy?”

“With your body rubbed up against mine? Oh, yeah.”

She laughed. “I’ll let her know the stuff works.”

“Pretty sure if you had nothing on at all I’d be feeling just as crazy. Actually, if you had nothing on at all, my current level of crazy would be kid’s stuff in comparison.”

She wiggled closer against him. “Well, that makes sense. We’re both just kids at heart.”

“True, that.” His hands rubbed against her low back. “Were you thinking about our coworkers just a few minutes ago?”

She knew when he meant and at that time it hadn’t been thoughts of their coworkers that had robbed her of her smile. No, it had been thoughts of what she was anticipating happening later in the evening. Not that she was sure that’s what would happen, but she’d questioned it enough that she’d shaved, lotioned, powdered, perfumed and dressed in her sexiest underwear.

Because all week Lance had kissed her good-night, deep, thorough passionate kisses that had left her longing for more. She hadn’t invited him in and he hadn’t pushed. Just hot good-night kisses night after night that left her confused and aching.

Mostly, she just didn’t understand why he hadn’t attempted to talk his way into her bed. Or at least into her house. He’d still not made it off the front porch.

He might not push for more tonight either. She was okay with it if he didn’t. It was just that something had felt different between them today on the Christmas float, and afterward when they’d weaved their way from one booth to another. All week she’d felt as if she was building up to something great. From the moment he’d picked her up at her house this evening and had been so obviously pleased with the way she looked and how she’d greeted him—with lots of smiles—the feeling had taken root inside her that tonight held magical possibilities that she wasn’t sure she really wanted in the long run, but in the short term, oh, yeah, she wanted Lance something fierce, thus the itsy-bitsy, barely-there thong.

“Should I be concerned about how quiet you are?” he asked.

“Nope. I’m just enjoying the dance.”

“Any regrets?”

His question caught her off guard and she pulled back enough to where she could see his face. “About?”