went to her mouth, and her eyes rounded in surprise.
“Will you dance with me?” he asked, his voice deep and rich and wonderful. Libby wanted to dance with him. Only him. Always him.
She absolutely could not let him know it.
Not as friends.
His words from yesterday evening played on repeat in her head, but she nodded anyway. He extended his hand toward her, and the moment she put hers in his, her skin sizzled. Could he feel that too?
Of course he can’t, she told herself. She’d had feelings for Mister for at least three years. Maybe a little longer. They’d touched plenty of times over that course of time, and he’d never once noticed her.
Never once.
Hurt ran through her, and she could admit that she might be holding a grudge against the man who’d once been her best friend.
Libby had grown up now. She knew men and women didn’t remain best friends for life, and it was a stupid idea to think she was somehow different.
Anxiety ran through her as Mister encircled her in his arms. Everything he did seemed so easy, like breathing or blinking, and every step Libby took weighed at least a hundred pounds.
“Are you having a good time?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Did you get some of that caramel and cheddar popcorn mix? I know you like that.”
“I think I ate the whole bowl by myself.” She managed to laugh, but she wasn’t kidding. She’d gone straight to the treat table when she’d arrived, because a twenty-minute drive with her sister in the back seat and Mister behind the wheel had been akin to torture.
She’d needed a salty and sweet escape, and Libby could hear her sister-in-law telling her that popcorn put on an extra twenty pounds. Libby knew she carried too much weight; she simply didn’t care.
Lizbeth said it could be why she hadn’t been able to find a husband yet. Libby knew that wasn’t true. She hadn’t found a husband yet, because she was waiting for Mister Glover to open his eyes and see her standing there.
“I’ll send some to you,” he said.
“Please don’t,” she said. “I already binge on this sea salt and lime popcorn, and it’s added plenty to my hips.”
“It has not,” he said with a scoff. “You look great.”
“You can’t be serious.” She couldn’t believe she was talking about her weight with Mister. At the same time, she and Mister used to talk about everything. Literally, everything. When he’d left for the pro rodeo circuit, he’d called her every night for a year. After that, he’d texted or emailed after every rodeo. Sometimes he’d call too.
They really had shared everything—except a kiss. They’d never held hands, and he’d never shown up on her stoop to ask her to dinner…until yesterday.
Not as friends.
“I’m serious,” Mister said now, bringing her closer to him. Her first instinct was to pull back. Shy away. She wasn’t going to give into the urge to be with him, because she didn’t want to lose him as a friend.
With her nerves bouncing in the back of her throat, she let him pull her closer. She let herself rest her cheek against his chest, where his heart boomed in her eardrum. He said something, but she couldn’t tell what. It didn’t matter. She was safely encircled in his arms, and she wanted to stay there for a good long while.
The music quieted, and Libby lifted her head. Mister had danced them right out of the main hall and around the corner at the back of the room.
“Libby,” he said. “I have to talk to you.” He released her, and she stumbled slightly, catching herself against the wall behind her.
Mister sighed and paced away from her. He took off his cowboy hat and ran his hands through his hair. He usually took off his hat inside, but most men had left theirs on for the party. A man did want to look his best on the dance floor, and Libby was a sucker for a man in a cowboy hat.
Wrong, she thought. You’re a sucker for Mister in a cowboy hat.
“We already talked,” she said.
“No,” he said, turning to face her. “We didn’t. I asked you out, Libby. I stood on your porch and said I liked you and wanted you, and you scampered away from me.”
“You did not say that.”
“What did you think I meant by ‘not as friends’?” His eyebrows dropped, and his expression darkened. She’d seen this frustrated, irritated, angry version of Mister a lot over the past six months.
“What