fingers in his hair. Blood began to pool in my groin.
“I’d say there’s mistletoe in the doorway,” Pastor Nichols teased as he appeared at our side, cold water bottles in his arms. “Want me to go nick it?”
We both chortled but shook our heads. We’d given the good folks of Cedarburg enough to gossip about already. Best not to lock lips yet. And so the night moved on slowly, Gideon tight to my side as we shook our money makers for all they were worth. During breaks, he was attentive and charming, even managing to get a weak little titter out of my mother when he made some off-handed comment about toupees and sheep. Aubrey showed up with his date around eleven, a young miss named Belinda from the neighboring county who shook my hand vigorously before launching into a small gushing session that had me blushing from my toes to my nose. When the break was over, Gideon and I made our way to the dance floor.
“Looks like we lost a few,” I mentioned as he took me in his arms for another slow song, this one a beautiful rendition of “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” from Michael Bublé. He glanced at the petered out dancers splayed over the chairs.
“Lightweights,” he softly replied, tucking me in just an inch closer, so that his chest and mine rubbed lightly. “Are you going to let me heat you up tonight?”
A tingle ran up my spine. “My toes never did get properly warmed after that plunge,” I answered, giving him a coy look that ignited those beautiful eyes of his. “Can you do something for them?”
“Oh yes, I can warm your toes and all that lies above them.”
His lips called to mine. The lights were low, the dancers slipping into lethargy as we crept closer to midnight. Everything in me screamed out to kiss the man, leave this stupid dance-a-thon, and herd Gideon to my bed. He was so close, so incredibly alluring, so male, so hot for me…
“Mind if I cut in?”
All that mellow sensuality fled like a chicken spotting a hawk at the sound of my ex’s voice right behind me. I stiffened instantly. Gideon, probably picking up on my astounding flip from soft and sexy to uptight and upset, took a step back, his hands still holding me possessively, to eyeball the interloper. His gaze darted from me to Myron then back to me.
“Is this someone you wish to dance with?” Gideon asked as Myron stood amid the remaining dancers looking ridiculously awkward I hoped. I mouthed “my ex” to him, which made his eyes narrow a bit.
“I’d be happy to dance with you,” I said quickly looking back at Myron with my standard mayoral smile. “But the rules stipulate only one partner so perhaps we can catch up on our next break?”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Myron muttered, ducking his head then making his way to the punch bar for a cup of red punch. My gaze rested on my ex for a bit. Gideon swung us around, putting my back to Myron dipping punch.
“He looks shady to me,” Gideon mumbled as he continued to lead me around even though the slow dance was winding down. “Is he one of those assholes who thought you were Cream of Wheat?”
“Oatmeal, but yeah, he was one of those assholes. Don’t get into a sparring match with him in front of people!” I hurried to say when he growled like an angry dog. “He’s entitled to his opinions. And in comparison to most people I—”
Gideon planted one on me, right there among all my constituents and Jesus just one floor above us. My eyes flared. Just as fast as he had kissed me he pulled back.
“None of that. I will not listen to you run yourself down because Donnie Dickwad—”
“Myron McKenzie.” My face and neck were hot with embarrassment.
“I like my name better but fine, Myron then. I will not listen to you run yourself down because Myron McKenzie hasn’t got the mental capacity that God gave a sheep. To hell with him. Did we not prove just last night that you are a sexual powder keg?”
The heat in my face spread to my entire body. Even my toes were embarrassed, but yet I was also kind of enjoying the passionate display of admiration Gideon was putting on. I’d never had a man respond so heatedly in regard to me. It made me feel appealing and handsome. Sexy.