She glanced over T.J.’s shoulder to where Luke stood holding his phone up. “I think your brother is trying for his own material.”
“Better give him something worth posting on Facebook.” Unlike his brother, T.J. found the song’s rhythm, moving as if he’d been training for a TV dance competition.
Out of breath, Amy slowed down and went to the sidelines, content to watch the T.J. show unfold. Gabe and Eloise occupied the other, darker half of the tent, dancing slow and close as if they were listening to a different soundtrack.
“You look good out there,” Mark said, when she stopped beside him.
“I forgot how much fun these guys are.” She glanced at Mark. He stood with one foot crossed over the other, his shoulder leaning against the tent’s side pole. In one hand, he held a bottle of beer. While she’d spun and twirled as if she didn’t have a care in the world, she’d felt his gaze on her. For so many years, he had been on the edge of the crowd, watching and waiting, always keeping an eye on his friends. But tonight, it felt like more. Hot. Possessive.
“They want to see you happy.” Mark nodded to T.J. and Luke, who had both stopped to open a beer.
“I know.” She moved closer to Mark. “But not in the same way you do, I’m guessing.”
He lowered his drink, his gaze focused on her, so intense she felt a ripple of wanting. “I sure as hell hope not.”
She stepped closer, stealing the bottle from his hand. “And just how would you g
o about making me happy?”
She raised the beer to her lips and took a long drink.
“I think you have a pretty good idea,” Mark murmured.
“Tell me.”
“Here?”
She nodded, every muscle on edge waiting for him to refuse and walk away. He glanced over her shoulder as the music changed again. And then he placed his hand on her hip, drawing her close.
Lowering his head, his lips touched her ear. “I’d bring you dog toys.”
She drew back. “Is that the best you can do?”
“I’m not done yet.” He held her gaze, heat replacing the laughter in his brown eyes. “Once the dogs were occupied, I’d lead you into the exam room and finish what we started. I’d kiss you, stripping you down. And I wouldn’t stop there. I would explore every damn curve, learning where to touch you to make you scream my name.”
“Wow,” she murmured. “That’s quite the fantasy. Beats a dance party.”
“Yeah.” Mark stepped away, breaking contacting. “Just a fantasy.”
She handed the beer back to Mark, her fingers brushing against his. She wanted to hold them there, prolong the touch. But she drew back, shoving her hands in her pockets. Out here, in the cool night air, his words fresh in her mind, it was easy to wonder about the possibilities.
“I’m making a new list,” she said. “A list of rules. I want...”
To kiss him, touch him... She wanted the fantasy.
“I get it, Amy.” His jaw tightened, but he didn’t look away.
“Amy, get your butt over here and dance,” T.J. called as a classic from the eighties blared through the speakers.
“Go,” Mark said, lifting his beer to his lips. “This is your night. Dance.”
She raised an eyebrow, her hips swaying to the beat as she stepped toward the dancing Benton brothers. “Join me?”
“Out there?” He raised an eyebrow. “No chance. But I’ll be watching you.”
“One day,” she called over her shoulder as she twirled away, joining Luke and T.J. on the makeshift dance floor. “You’ll join me. I’ll get you off the sidelines.”
* * *