Chapter 6
Dancing with the Stars
Lexi took in the man standing before her, his hand extended in invitation, his quicksilver eyes dancing with …
she wasn’t sure. Amusement? Challenge? A dash of danger?
Josh oozed an edginess that did funny things to her lady parts.
He was the bad boy she’d been warned about, all swaggering ease with a sparking undercurrent that telegraphed sex was a sport he excelled at.
Whatever else it might be, the offer had her curiosity at an all-time high. She’d never been with a man like him—let’s be real, she’d barely been with any man—and his smooth self-assurance was a drug she was eager to try.
Perhaps for that very reason, she gave herself a moment to tumble the offer through her head, examining its different facets.
As long as he wasn’t inviting her to his room to get naked, what harm could it do to follow him?
Not that she objected to getting naked. Hadn’t she told Anna that a roll in the hay was one of her objectives when she’d set out on this “honeymoon”?
Except not with Josh. There was that whole experienced vibe that intimidated her, plus, over the last hour or so, she’d shifted him into the “friend” category because, for some odd reason, she trusted him. One did not sleep with one’s friends.
Hall and Oates’s “I Can’t Go for That” sang out in her head, yet at the same time, an undeniable charge of anticipation raced up her spine.
“Just do it!” Anna urged. “Embrace the adventure, whatever it turns out to be.”
Once upon a time, Lexi had lived by some very wise words uttered by an old-time actress: “I’d rather regret the things I’ve done than regret the things I haven’t done.
” But now she examined every opportunity for all the ways things could go wrong and inevitably found an excuse to run—like the job she’d been offered by a home improvement magazine when she’d still been working at Veil Vibes.
It had sounded exciting—had even paid more—but fear of the unknown had kept her from accepting.
Too risky to change. When had she become such a nervous Nellie? When had she become so boring?
Conrad. Without even realizing it, she had let him beat her down mentally until nothing of the old Lexi remained.
When she’d first told him about the job offer, he’d scoffed.
“You don’t know anything beyond bridal, Alexis.
How long do you think you’ll last?” She’d turned down the opportunity, despite the appeal and the bigger paycheck.
He’d eaten away her confidence one bite at a time, but she’d been the one to hand him the knife and fork and told him to carve away.
Vibrant Lexi had transformed into passive Lexi.
He might have been the one to shove her assertive side into a deep, dank hole, but she’d aided and abetted by second-guessing herself every time he questioned her decisions, her thought process, her being.
By not standing up for herself. By not trusting herself.
Being left at the altar had been brutal, but it might very well have been the biggest kindness he’d ever done her.
These myriad thoughts streamed through her head while she stared up at Josh. His eyebrows crawled up his forehead, as if he were silently pondering where she’d spiraled off to.
Go with it! Trust your instincts. Let Lexi out of her cage and embrace the unknown. Welcome the fun. You deserve this.
The waitress materialized and handed Josh a folio, giving Lexi another moment to study him. He opened the little black folder, eyes scanning the bill, and held up one finger in a silent request for the woman to wait.
Lexi snagged her credit card from her pocket and sat forward to hand it to him.
Without looking at her, he growled, “I’ve got this.
” Ooh! That commanding voice snapped her at attention, firing up tiny points of pleasure in her belly, and she was inclined to salute him.
This was a man, used to taking charge, to handing out orders, but not in a slithering, backstabbing Conrad sort of way.
The server eyed him with interest, from his messy hair to his flip-flopped feet, and Lexi stole a moment of her own to see him through the server’s eyes.
He was … gorgeous. Strong jawline, perfectly cut cheekbones, a sensuous mouth, and unblemished skin dotted with sexy stubble.
Why had it taken until now for her to realize this fact?
Because he’d been a jerk when she’d first met him, but first impressions were overrated, and she wasn’t necessarily an expert at judging men.
His swagger during their first encounter had been a turnoff but was now morphing into something on the opposite end of the sex appeal spectrum.
Anna’s voice piped up in her head. “He’s hot as hell and built like the male equivalent of a swimsuit model. Don’t you want to get your hands on those muscles and find out if they’re as hard as they look?” Except Neil’s were the muscles she wanted her hands on. Weren’t they?
Josh bent down to the table and picked up a pen in his left hand.
Lexi sneaked a look at the check as he scrawled a room number and his signature below a figure that made Lexi’s eyes pop.
If she read it right, he’d left the woman a tip that exceeded the total for the meal.
Lexi was used to cheap—that’s what Conrad had been, and it was one reason she’d paid for the entire honeymoon.
Josh handed the woman the small folder. “In case the other guy spaces getting back here to pay you, his name is Neil Afton, and he’s staying at this hotel, so feel free to charge his room.” He sent her a sly wink that made the woman beam him a brilliant smile. He turned back to Lexi. “Ready?”
Mind made up, she dropped her napkin on the table. “Where are we going? What are we doing?”
“I’m going to show you something else I enjoy.”
Oh God! It is sex. Alarms clanging in her head, Lexi feigned casualness and cocked an eyebrow. “Are you going to tell me what that is?”
“It’s a surprise. And it’s too late to back out now.”
“I never backed in,” she pointed out.
“You threw down your napkin. That’s a challenge.” His eyes twinkled. “Instead of telling you, it’s better if I show you instead.”
A thrill effervesced behind her breastbone. Or was that panic?
He seemed to read her thoughts. “Don’t worry. We’ll be in public, and you can tell me to get lost any time you want—and I will.”
Oh. Not sex, then. A frisson of disappointment threaded through her. She popped out of her seat, whacking her knee on the table’s edge. Unfortunately, she pitched toward Josh. Fortunately, his arms came up in a decisive motion, cradling her before she could fall.
Upright again, she pressed the back of her hand to her forehead. “Ooh!” Oh, those muscles are hard all right. They feel like granite … steel … wood … concrete. She told her galloping heart to settle back down.
The smile slipped from his face, and his knees dipped. He looked her in the eye, his own filled with concern. He ran his gaze up and down her body. “Did I hurt you?”
“N-no, I just was caught off guard by your …” Muscles made of iron. “Reflexes. You have excellent reflexes.”
And there came that smirk tipping his lips. It didn’t bother her as much now as it had when she’d first met him. No, she found it … sexy. Playful. Sinful.
“Yeah, well, I’ve had a lot of practice.” When she merely gaped at him, he jabbed his thumb at his solar plexus. “Goalie, remember? Lots of practice builds muscle memory, which builds reflexes. Gotta stop pucks without thinking about stopping pucks.”
Her mind shot to what else he could do with his muscle memory.
Before she could eject that inappropriate thought, he surprised her by steering her toward the beach—not the interior of the hotel—kicking off his flip-flops as he went. He paused and pointed to her sandals. “You might want to take those off.”
“Um, I’ll keep them on, thanks.” Why was she resisting? Shoe removal did not automatically lead to clothing removal. It was naturally and completely harmless. But he made her tipsy—or maybe it was the penis coladas—and she withdrew to her safe shell. She wasn’t taking anything off. Not yet.
“Suit yourself.” He took her by the hand, and his touch shot off a shower of embers that raced to her core.
His hand was big and rough and warm, and it wrapped hers up in a gentle hold.
Where the hell were all these fiery feelings coming from?
Apparently, she was desperate for a man’s touch because his light one felt really, really good.
It conveyed a masculine protectiveness that had her entire body humming.
They stepped off the concrete patio, and the heels of her sandals sank into soft, warm sand and stuck.
She slid her hand from his hold. “Okay. You’re right.
Wait.” Placing her hand on his rock-hard shoulder—an unnecessary move, but oh so nice—she shimmied out of the sandals and let him lead her down the beach toward a band covering rock-and-roll oldies in a covered, open-air pavilion strung with twinkle lights and packed with bobbing bodies.
Palm trees rimmed the perimeter, and tiki torch flames swayed in the breeze. The setting was pure enchantment.
He lifted her footwear from her hands and, together with his, tossed them at the base of a palm tree. “We’ll come back for those later.” Then he tugged her toward the dance floor’s perimeter. She gaped at him. “We’re … dancing?”
“Only if you want to.” He kept her hand nestled in his.
“You like to dance?” Men didn’t like dancing. This was a well-known fact and one she had reported on in her articles.
He smirked—again. “This is one activity you left off your list. You never asked if I did. I haven’t had much spare time or the desire to hang out in clubs lately, but I do like to cut a rug.”
“I’m not … very good at this,” she warned. At least that’s what Conrad had told her when he’d walked out on their first dance lesson—also paid for by her, so she’d stuck with the eight-week commitment. The woman teacher had taken pity and stepped in as her dance partner.
“Don’t worry. I am.” Surprisingly, his declaration didn’t come across as cocky.
It was matter-of-fact. He nudged them onto the dance floor with his big shoulders and created a space where their two bodies could fit.
He lifted her hand to his shoulder and placed his other one on her waist. Oh, that felt good.
His touch was strong but reverent and so warm she could feel the heat through her dress.
“Just keep your eyes on mine and follow my lead.” He stabbed his index and middle fingers in the general direction of her eyes and back at his own, emphasizing the point. He was dead serious, and she tried not to giggle out loud.
She draped a hand over his shoulder, amusement brimming inside her. “You are full of surprises, Mr. Wylder.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment, Ms. Campbell.”
Wow! He even remembered her last name, even though she’d only told him once. Okay, so he was attentive too. Had she chosen the wrong guy? No. Josh was all wrong for her, though she wasn’t sure Neil was right either.
And that niggling reality spiked inside her once more: She was batting zero when it came to picking partners, which meant neither man would be the right one.
There probably wasn’t a right one. Her perception of “The One” was jaded, she admitted inside, after years in the bridal business and her own disastrous engagement to “The One” who turned out to be a demeaning jerk face.
Josh pulled her a little closer, knocking the churning thoughts from her head, and began to move them in sync to the thumping music.
It felt as though he was giving her time and space to get used to the feel of the steps—and the feel of him, all warm steel beneath his clothing.
Already she could tell he was smooth, graceful.
He knew what he was doing, and her dirty mind leaped to whether he knew what to do in bed too.
Nerves fired off all at once, and she held her back a little stiffly, trying to control the confusing reactions inside her body.
Her feet stuttered, but he smiled and assured her she was doing great.
His encouragement was genuine, a warm caress on her fragile ego.
Before long, she eased into the rhythm and was right there with him, gliding effortlessly in his arms. As her body relaxed into his hold, she began to take note of his heady scent—fresh soap intermingled with a touch of cedar and masculine notes.
His lips curved in a half-smile, and his eyes grew hooded, as if he was letting the music invade his bones and take over.
His thigh brushed between hers as he angled her for a better fit, and she didn’t flinch.
He splayed his fingers against her upper back, and she was surprised at how much territory it covered.
He was lean muscle and hard planes that felt sooo good against her softer curves.
Their bodies interlocked like puzzle pieces, and it was perfection.
Too bad he wasn’t Neil. Or was it?