Chapter 2
Stylz
The hardwood floor creaks under my boots as I stroll into the dance studio”s lobby, Wyatt right beside me. Plush burgundy couches line one wall, while the other is all mirrors.
”Remind me again why we”re doing this?” I ask, shrugging off my flannel overshirt and tossing it onto one of the couches.
”Because my girl wants to have the perfect first dance,” he says, rolling up the sleeves of his henley. ”And since I”ve got two left feet, she insisted on one last lesson before the big day.”
“I know why you’re doing it,” I tell him, sitting in one of the armchairs. “But why am I doing it?”
Wyatt sits across from me and checks his watch. “You’re my moral support and a dance partner for her sister. As the best man, it comes with the territory.”
I scoff, but there”s no real heat behind it. Wyatt”s been my closest friend since we were kids running wild in these very mountains. He knows I’d do anything for him. Speaking of which…
He leans forward, elbows on his knees. ”I”m guessing everything went well last night at the party?”
An image flashes through my mind—fiery dark eyes, soft curves pressed against cool tile, the tantalizing taste of her desire on my tongue. My lips quirk into a half-smirk. ”You could say that.”
Wyatt arches a thick brow, clearly waiting for me to elaborate. But I”m not one to kiss and tell, especially when I was there at his behest to keep an eye on his fiancee and her wedding party. The irony isn”t lost on me—I was supposed to be the responsible one, not one of the assholes I was meant to keep away.
Yet she was irresistible. That smoldering gaze, those curves... I couldn”t fight the pull if I tried.
”Nothing to worry about,” I finally say, keeping it vague.
Wyatt studies me for a moment, then nods. ”Good. I appreciate you looking out for her.”
”No problem,” I reply.
Before the conversation can continue, the studio door swings open, and Daisy strides in, all smiles and sunshine as usual. But it”s the woman trailing behind her who catches my attention.
It”s her—my bathroom bombshell, looking just as polished and put together, not a single dark curl out of place. Those chocolate-brown eyes meet mine, and I can see the recognition flash across her face.
Well, well... Isn”t this an interesting turn of events?
Seeing them together now, I don”t know how I didn”t realize it last night. The sexy, feisty stranger I hooked up with last night is none other than Daisy”s sister.
Delilah.
”Hey, guys!” Daisy chirps, completely oblivious to the sudden tension crackling between her sister and me. ”Sorry we”re late.”
Wyatt pulls her in for a quick kiss. ”No worries, babe. We were just catching up.”
”Stylz, this is my sister, Delilah.” Daisy gestures between us. ”I don”t think you two have actually met yet.”
Delilah”s gaze meets mine again, her expression coolly detached. ”Nice to meet you,” she says evenly, offering her hand.
The corner of my mouth quirks up in the barest hint of a smirk. Two can play at this game.
I rise to my feet, crossing the room to take Delilah”s hand in mine. Instead of shaking it, I bring it to my lips, just like last night. ”Pleasure to meet you.”
Her cheeks flush ever so slightly, but she holds my gaze. ”Likewise.”
Thankfully, the dance instructor chooses that moment to bustle in, clapping her hands together briskly. ”Alright, folks, let”s get this party started!”
As she and Daisy talk about what they hope to get out of this lesson, I lean over to Delilah, pitching my voice low. ”So, we”re pretending like last night didn”t happen?”
Her jaw tenses slightly, those lush lips pressing into a tight line. ”That would be preferable, yes.”
”Whatever you say, princess.” I flash her a wink, thoroughly enjoying how her nostrils flare with irritation.
”Don”t call me that.”
”Why not? It suits you.”
Before she can respond, the music starts up—a slow, sultry number that has Wyatt already looking like a newborn fawn trying to find its legs—and I take Delilah in my arms.
”Just go with it,” I murmur as she moves stiffly against me. ”Wouldn”t want to disappoint your sister, would we?”
She glares up at me. ”You”re insufferable.”
”And you”re wound way too tight this morning.” I dip her back, drinking in the way her curves arc so perfectly. When I bring her upright again, she”s slightly breathless. ”Just relax and enjoy yourself... you know, like you did last night.”
Delilah opens her mouth—probably to deliver another biting retort—but then seems to think better of it, snapping it shut again as Daisy and Wyatt waltz past us.
As the lesson progresses, I can”t help but revel in how well she fits in my arms, like two puzzle pieces slotting perfectly together. The way her body molds to mine, the faint hint of her floral perfume surrounding us in an intoxicating cloud—it”s enough to make a man lose his senses.
”You”re staring,” she murmurs.
I dip my head until my lips are nearly brushing the delicate shell of her ear. ”Hard not to when you”re looking so damn good, princess.”
”I told you not to call me that,” she bites out, but there”s no real venom behind the words this time.
”What would you prefer?” I counter as my hands come to rest at the tempting swell of her hips.
She huffs out a breath, and I swear I can see the slightest twitch at the corner of her lips—like she”s fighting a smile. ””Your Highness” works for me.”
Her response surprises me, and I”m laughing when the instructor circles back around, watching us with an approving nod. ”You two make such a lovely couple.”
Delilah tenses in my arms, no doubt preparing to set the record straight. But before she can open her mouth, a sultry Spanish ballad crackles to life over the speakers, and she immediately softens, her eyes fluttering shut.
”Oh, I love this song,” she says.
Then, she starts singing along in Spanish. I don”t understand the words, but I don’t have to in order to appreciate the effortless beauty in the way she sings—no forced dramatics, just pure, raw emotion.
”You”ve got a gorgeous voice,” I murmur when she trails off. “What’s the song about?”
”It”s about two lovers from completely different worlds,” she explains. ”Their love is impossible from the start.”
”Let me guess—the guy was a rugged, handsome mountain man, and the woman was a sophisticated city slicker who fell for his wild ways.”
The barest hint of a smile tugs at her full lips. ”Something like that.”
”So, they make it work in the end, right?” I ask, pulling her a little closer. ”The mountain man sweeps her off her feet with his charming good looks and rapier wit?”
Delilah”s smile fades, and she actually cringes. ”Not exactly. The woman ends up dying tragically, and the man is cursed to a life of solitude and loneliness.”
I blink, momentarily taken aback by the grim turn of events. ”Well, that”s depressing as hell. Why even bother telling stories like that?”
She arches a perfectly sculpted brow. ”You”ve never heard cautionary tales before?”
I shrug. ”Sure, but I prefer stories with happier endings myself.” My hands settle at the curve of her waist, our bodies swaying in sync. ”Way I see it, love”s supposed to conquer all that crap. If you want something bad enough, you fight for it.”
Delilah regards me with an inscrutable look. ”Is that what you really believe?”
I meet her gaze steadily, allowing the briefest hint of vulnerability to show. ”Yeah, princess. I do.”
Her breath hitches almost imperceptibly, and for a moment, I think she might actually open up, let me see past those meticulously constructed walls. But then her features smooth over into that cool mask of detachment once more.
”I didn’t picture you as the kind of guy chasing a fairytale,” she murmurs, her tone laced with gentle mockery.
”And who says I want a fairytale?” I retort. “Way I see it, I”m a man of simple pleasures. Good beer, fresh mountain air...” I dip my head until my lips are nearly brushing her ear. ”A beautiful woman in my arms.”
Delilah hums thoughtfully, worrying her plump lower lip between her teeth. The motion draws my gaze, making me wonder how those lips would taste if I kissed her right here, audience be damned.
Before I can act on the impulse, Daisy”s voice cuts through the heated silence.
”You two look like you”ve got this dancing thing down pat.” She loops her arm through her fiancé”s. ”Which is good, because we need someone to pick up the centerpieces from the florist for us. The place is right outside of town—shouldn”t take more than an hour or so.”
Delilah opens her mouth, clearly preparing to object, but I cut her off before she can. ”Not a problem.”
She shoots me a look that could melt steel, but I just flash her a slow wink.
For her part, Daisy is oblivious to the tension between us, too preoccupied by the million other details that go into planning a wedding. She just gives her sister a quick hug. ”You”re the best. Thank you!”
I can feel Delilah”s glare burning a hole in the side of my head as we gather our things and walk to my truck.
As she climbs into the passenger seat, I glance over at her. ”You know, this could be fun if you let it.”
She turns to me, her dark eyes flashing. ”Just drive.”
Chuckling, I start the truck”s engine with a low rumble. As we peel out of the parking lot, I can”t resist one last parting shot. ”Yes, Your Highness.”
Delilah scoffs, but she”s fighting a smile—I can see it in the way her lips twitch ever so slightly.
And just like that, I know I”ve got her hooked, whether she”ll admit it or not.