So do I. Travis closed his eyes, a chill clawing up the back of his neck. There’d be no turning back after tonight. Tomorrow morning, he had to tell Margaret, Red . . . and Hannah the truth. And God knows if he’d be able to find the right words, much less be able to say them out loud. Or if Hannah would ever be able to look at him the same way again.
Warm palms pressed against his cool cheeks and a sweet voice whispered against his ear. “If you’re going to keep your eyes on me, you have to open them.”
Travis grew still as Hannah’s soft words and gentle touch warmed him on the inside, chasing the chill from his skin. He opened his eyes.
She stood in front of him, her hands still cupping his face and her big, blue eyes looking up at him. As he focused on her, she trailed her hands away from his cheeks, stepped back, and lowered her arms to her sides.
Moonlight pooled over her long auburn curls and bare shoulders, casting a soft sheen on the blue dress she wore. The satin material fit perfectly, clinging to the soft curves of her full breasts and hips, and the flirty ruffle lining the hem fluttered against the smooth skin of her toned thighs in the light, evening breeze.
Smiling, she whispered, “You said to wear it if I wanted.” Her graceful hands moved, her pretty, unpolished nails picking nervously at the delicate hem of the dress. “Do you like it?”
The tight ache in his chest receded as he met her eyes, and an intense wave of wanting moved through him, tightening his abs and making his tongue slow. “Yes.” His voice, when it emerged, was husky and he cleared his throat. “Very much.”
She blushed, the light pink coloring her cheeks deepening as her gaze roved over him slowly, skimming his chest, hips, and legs, then returning to his face. “You look”—her chest rose on a slow inhale—“very handsome.”
He grinned. “Thank you.”
“That’d be the suit,” Red said, clapping Travis on the back. “Might make a man feel miserable, but it makes him look like a thousand bucks.” Chuckling, he stepped forward and hugged Hannah, saying as he released her, “You look beautiful, sweetheart.”
“That’d be Travis’s doing,” she said, grinning. “He picked out the dress. And the curls were courtesy of Margaret.”
“Oh?” Red looked around, his tone flippant, but his expression anxious. “Did she come out with you?”
“I did.” Margaret, wearing a green dress and matching heels, emerged from the darkness cover
ing the field behind them and stopped in front of Travis. “Well, look at you,” she said softly, taking in his suit and tie. “A handsome gentleman.”
Travis, his face heating, ducked his head as she moved closer and kissed his cheek. The friendly press of her hand against his wrist and the trust in her eyes made his shoulders tighten.
Margaret turned to Red, her smile fading. “I’m a bit late.” Her mouth trembled as she whispered, “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.”
Red, a relieved expression appearing on his face, blinked rapidly and shook his head. “No.”
“Good,” Margaret said. “Because I’d really like it if you danced with me.”
“Of course.” Red held out his hand and took a step toward the dance floor.
Margaret placed her hand on the bend of his elbow, stopping him. “I was thinking about something a little less formal.” She reached down and removed her heels, dropping them one at a time to the grass, then untied Red’s tie and tossed it on top of her shoes. “Right here, with just you, would be perfect.”
Red grinned, slid an arm around Margaret’s waist, and winked at Travis and Hannah over her shoulder. “Excuse us, please.”
With a twirl and the whisper of feet on grass, Red and Margaret danced across the field away from the crowd, their swaying forms gradually fading to dark silhouettes beneath the bright moonlight, their faint laughter drifting on the night air.
“There’s a big dance floor behind us,” Hannah said quietly. “It’d be a shame for us not to test it out.”
“Yeah.” Travis smiled, slipped his hands out of his pockets, and reached for hers. “It would.”
He led the way to the dance floor, brushed aside a curtain of tulle and lights, and stepped back to allow Hannah to precede him. Weaving between several couples, he followed her to an open space on the dance floor, his heart skipping a beat when she stepped into his open arms and pressed her cheek to his chest.
Heart pounding in his ears, he slid his left arm around her waist and took her left hand in his right, just as Gloria had shown him. He took one slow step to the right, studied the swaying movements of the other couples, then took another step, timing his movements to the slow beat of the song and the slight sway of Hannah’s hips.
His arm tightened against the small of her back, and he forced his hand to relax, his fingers shaking against the smooth indentation of her waist.
Hannah lifted her head from his chest and studied his face, surprise in her eyes. “Are you nervous?”
He nodded stiffly and lowered his head, saying softly, “It’s been a long time since I’ve . . .”
His attention strayed to the sprinkling of freckles across her cute nose, the pink blush in her cheeks, and the slight parting of her soft lips.