2. Haley #2
“Thanks.” I laughed, but it came out breathless. “I think that’s the first compliment I’ve gotten all night. Your brother had some thoughts about the neckline.”
“My brother is an idiot.” James shook his head, his jaw tightening briefly. “You look like a fucking goddess standing in a room full of overdressed peasants. Anyone who can’t see that needs their eyes checked.”
I laughed again, and this time it was real. “You really know how to boost a girl’s ego.”
“I’m just stating facts.” He smiled, and something in my chest fluttered dangerously. “How’s work going? Don’t you have some networking to do? This room is full of people who probably need editors.”
“I’m going to let Caleb handle the networking.” I tracked my husband across the room with my eyes. He was surrounded by a group of women now, all of them laughing at something he’d said. “He’s better at it than I am anyway.”
“He’s good at making people feel important.” James followed my gaze, his expression unreadable. “It’s a talent.”
“That’s one word for it.” I watched Vanessa materialize at Caleb’s side again, her hand finding his arm like it belonged there. “Speaking of talents, how’s the distillery? Are you surviving the busy season?”
“Barely.” He turned back to me, deliberately pulling my attention away from my husband and his assistant. “But I’d rather hear about you. How’s the new novel coming along? The ghostwriting project you mentioned at Caleb’s birthday dinner?”
I blinked at him, surprised. “How do you know about that?”
“I overheard you and Megan talking.” He shrugged, looking almost sheepish. “You sounded excited about it. I’ve been wondering how it’s going.”
“It’s been a nightmare, honestly.” I sighed and took another sip of champagne.
“The author is incredibly nitpicky, and that’s putting it mildly.
Every draft I send back comes with forty pages of notes that contradict the previous forty pages of notes.
I don’t know what he wants. I’m starting to think he doesn’t know what he wants. ”
“That sounds frustrating.” James tilted his head, studying my face. “But if anyone can figure out what he’s looking for, it’s you. You have a gift for understanding what people need, even when they can’t articulate it themselves.”
I stared at him. Caleb didn’t even know I’d taken on a new ghostwriting project. I’d mentioned it twice at dinner, and both times he’d nodded absently and changed the subject. But James had overheard one conversation two months ago and remembered it.
“Thank you.” My voice came out softer than I intended. “That actually means a lot.”
“I meant it.” He held my gaze for a beat too long, then seemed to catch himself. He cleared his throat and glanced toward the string quartet playing in the corner. “They’re actually decent tonight. Usually my mother hires musicians who play like they’re being held at gunpoint.”
“Are you asking me to dance, James Sinclair?”
The question slipped out before I could stop it. I watched his face, waiting for him to laugh it off, to make a joke and change the subject.
Instead, he set down his whiskey glass and extended his hand.
“I am, actually.” His eyes met mine, steady and certain. “Dance with me, Haley.”
I should have said no. I should have made an excuse about needing to find my husband, about not wanting to cause a scene, about any of the hundred reasons why dancing with my brother-in-law was a bad idea.
Instead, I put my hand in his and let him lead me onto the floor.
The quartet was playing something slow that required him to put his hand on my waist and pull me close.
I could feel the warmth of his palm through the thin fabric of my dress.
His other hand settled at the small of my back, right where the neckline dipped low, and his thumb brushed against my bare skin.
“You’re tense.” His voice was low, his mouth close to my ear. “Relax. It’s just a dance.”
“I know what it is.” I forced myself to breathe, to loosen the rigid set of my shoulders. “I’m just not used to this.”
“To what? Dancing?”
“To someone paying attention.”
James pulled back slightly, just enough to look at my face.
“Then someone hasn’t been paying attention the way they should.” His hand tightened briefly on my waist. “And that’s their loss, Haley. Not yours.”
We moved together through the crowd, his body guiding mine with an ease that should have felt familiar but didn’t. This wasn’t like dancing with Caleb. This was something else entirely.
The song ended, but James didn’t let go.
“Thank you for the dance.” His thumb traced one last circle against my spine, and I felt the touch all the way to my bones. “We should do this more often.”
I stepped back, breaking the contact, and the sudden absence of his warmth felt like a loss.
“I should go find Caleb.” My voice sounded strange to my own ears.
“Of course.” James smiled. “Go find your husband, Haley.”
I walked away from him on legs that felt like they belonged to someone else, my heart pounding against my ribs and my skin still tingling where he’d touched me.
I didn’t look back.
But I could feel his eyes on me all the way across the room, and the weight of his gaze felt like a promise I wasn’t sure I wanted him to keep.