Meant To Be (Coming Home To The Grove 2)

I should leave it alone. Maybe she wants to dance with him. I grip on to the back of the chair next to me and start counting backwards from ten. I act as if that’s going to calm me, but it doesn’t. Watching her in the arms of another man is going all through me, and I don’t know how I’m still standing here. It’s pure torture. I want nothing more than to go over and throw her over my shoulder, take her home, and show her that I’m the man she needs. She brings something territorial out in me, and I’m fighting with myself on what to do. I could cause a scene and stake my claim. But she deserves better than that. She deserves to be romanced and to be shown how a man should treat a woman.

I don’t blink, I don’t breathe. I just stand here and watch. I want to look away, but I can’t let myself. The torture is real, and it feels like it’s tearing my heart out of my chest.

When the man’s hands slide down her waist and touch her ass, I’m done. I can’t stand still another minute. I storm across the room, reminding myself the whole way that I’m the sheriff and I can’t be involved in a bar fight. But even knowing that, I know that nothing is going to stop me from getting Carrie in my arms.12CarrieIs he squeezing my butt, or is my butt falling asleep?

“I’m cutting in,” a man says with the kind of authority that sends my dance partner on his way. I just decided I am gonna stick with coffee from now on as my new dance partner takes my hand in his and slides his other one down my back, stopping on my lower back.

The squeezing sensation on my butt is gone, so I’m sure now that my last dance partner was getting extra friendly.

“I hope you don’t mind me cutting in. I just couldn’t resist.” The strong voice comes again.

I raise my gaze from the man’s chest and smile when I recognize Scott. I nod my head at him, but don’t mutter a word. I’m dancing with Scott.

Something about the way he’s looking at me sobers me up much faster than coffee would have. “You like to dance?” I ask him after we dance for a few minutes. It’s taken me that long to find my voice.

“I’m not very good, am I?” He laughs. “Sorry, I just thought if I didn’t get out here and dance with you, I’d lose my chance to tell you how beautiful you look tonight.”

Maybe some more alcohol would be a good idea.

“Thank you,” I almost whisper to him shyly. I’m sure he’s trying to make me feel better after what he overheard today, but I still can’t help but swoon a little at his compliment.

This must be what it’s like to be beautiful and thin. Might as well enjoy it.

We keep dancing, and when the song changes, it picks up pace.

Scott was being way too modest. He’s not only a good dancer, but he’s a great leader too. He’s even making me look like I know what I’m doing. I can’t stop smiling. He makes me feel as light as a feather and beautiful, too.ScottDancing with her is the perfect excuse to hold her in my arms, and I’m bummed when Carrie’s friends wave her back to the table.

“Do you want to meet my friends?” she asks with her hand out to me.

I don’t even have to think about it. I put my hand in hers and lace our fingers together and let her pull me toward her them. I have no doubt that I would follow her anywhere she wants to go.

Carrie introduces me, and I’m familiar with who they are, mostly because I like to know who lives in town.

“You know, Sheriff, you’re lucky to be dancing with Carrie,” her friend Lacy tells me.

Carrie rolls her eyes and tries to pull her hand away, but I hold it tighter. “Oh, I know how lucky I am. That’s for sure,” I reply without taking my eyes off Carrie.

Her cheeks are flushed, and eyes are a little glassy. I don’t know if it’s the alcohol or a reaction to my words, but I know what I’m saying is the truth. And I’m glad that Carrie has good friends. After being exposed to her toxic mother, I know she can use them.

“So we are about to head out. My babysitter will need to go home soon,” Chrissy says.

“Yeah, and Trent has texted me around twenty times wondering when I was going to be home.”

Carrie nods her head. “Yeah, sure. I’m ready when you are.”

But I still don’t let go of her hand. “I can take you home.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind?”