Taming a Texas Rascal (Bad Boy Ranch #6) - Katie Lane Page 0,51
a little tighter and longer. When he drew back there were tears in both their eyes.
Cry baby. Mattie signed.
Wuss. Sawyer signed back. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go show Maisy that not all Dawsons suck at dancing.
Mattie grinned and flipped him off. Sawyer laughed as he stood and took off his jacket and hung it over the back of his chair. He held out a hand to Maisy.
“Dance with me, cowgirl.”
She took his hand and let him pull her to her feet. “Are you sure about this? This is a country swing and the steps might be a little too complicated for a rodeo bum like you.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her. “I think I can manage.” Once on the dance floor, he caught the beat with his feet before he reeled her into his chest and then spun her back out and into a series of twirls that left her wobbling on her boot heels. Her eyes went wide.
“I underestimated you, Sawyer Dawson,” she said. “But now I know you can handle me, hold on to your hat.”
He laughed as he continued to twirl her around the dance floor. They were perfect partners. She allowed him to take the lead, but then added some moves of her own as the dance continued. When the song was over, they were both out of breath and laughing. They stayed on the dance floor for the rest of the night. They danced polkas and two-steps and country swings and line dances until the DJ played the last waltz of the night.
Without a word, they came together and shuffled around the floor in perfect sync.
“Not bad for a rodeo bum,” she teased.
“Not bad for a sassy cowgirl.”
She adjusted her arms around his neck and her fingers brushed the hair on his nape, sending a shiver of awareness through him. “Where did you learn to dance like that?” she asked.
“Where else? In the honky-tonks of all the rodeo towns I’ve been in. Isn’t that where you learned?”
She shook her head. “Nope. I learned from my mama. She loves to dance. Before she met my stepdaddy, we would dance in our living room almost every night.”
“You’re close to your mama?”
She nodded. “We used to be much closer. Once she married my stepdaddy, things changed. I started feeling a little like the dried-out leftover pancake nobody wants. Of course, by then I was in high school and doing my own thing, so it wasn’t a big deal.”
He knew by the way she didn’t keep eye contact that it had been a big deal. “That had to be adjustment to go from having your mom’s full attention to having to share it. Is that why you went looking for your father?”
“That was part of it. Part of it had to do with my foolish belief that he had a good reason for leaving my mama and never contacting me.” Her gaze lowered to the open collar of his shirt. “And what’s even more foolish is I’m still hanging on to that belief. No matter what people have told me about Sam, I still think he would’ve loved me if he’d had the chance.”
The words broke Sawyer’s heart. He reached down and lifted her chin until her gaze met his. “He would’ve. If he had met you, Maisy Sweeney, there’s no way he couldn’t have loved you.” A longing entered her eyes. A longing so deep it took his breath away. He recognized that longing. It was something he struggled with too. The longing to be loved for who you are.
The song ended. But they kept on dancing, their gazes locked. It was a hotel employee who finally broke their trance and informed them that everyone needed to clear the ballroom so they could clean it.
They didn’t say anything as they went back to the table and Sawyer put on his jacket and hat. But whatever had taken place on the dance floor still hovered over them. They headed to the elevator. Once inside, Sawyer pushed the button for their floor.
The doors closed.
And they were alone.
Sawyer turned to Maisy at the same time as she turned to him.
Her hair was a mass of messy curls. Her makeup was smudged beneath her big brown eyes. And the peach lipstick she’d worn earlier was long since gone. She didn’t look perfect. She looked . . . breathtaking. Gorgeous. Ravishing. But mostly she looked . . . comfortable. Like a perfectly worn-in pair of boots.