The Patriot A Small Town Romance - Jennifer Millikin Page 0,93
length of my lower lip and I look away. I leave to serve my country and I have to come back to a little brother who’s had his precious feelings hurt? Defensiveness is my primary response, but deep down inside me, there’s a twinge of guilt for hurting him.
“Dakota, do you want to dance?” Wyatt asks.
I look over at Dakota. She’s looking at me, gauging my reaction. I kiss her forehead, letting her know it’s fine with me. I’m certainly not going to be out there dancing, not to any fast-paced songs anyway. I don’t want to hold her back.
Wyatt extends an open palm, and Dakota takes it. She quickly kisses me, then stands and winds her way through the tables to the dance floor. Now that people have had a chance to consume a drink or two, they’ve begun filtering onto it.
I watch Wyatt and Dakota and try not to let any of the irritation I’m feeling show on my face. He pulls her in, pushes her back out, spins her around. Wyatt is good. Dakota is better. She laughs, swishing her hips, doing complicated shit with her feet.
The waitress drops off the sandwiches we ordered and Wyatt’s beer, and I help myself to the drink. Why the fuck not, he’s currently dancing with my girl. The song ends and they come back. Dakota throws herself into her seat, fanning her face. She takes a long drink from her wine. Wyatt eyes the two empty glasses in front of me.
“Where’s my beer?”
“In my stomach.”
Dakota laughs loudly.
Wyatt shakes his head. “You can be a real asshole, Wes.”
“Careful there,” I warn him. “You’re starting to sound like a baby brother.”
His jaw flexes. He hates being called a baby brother. Always has. Warner and I were closer in age, and we were thicker than thieves, and we hated including Wyatt in our shenanigans. And Wyatt knew it.
He looks at something over my shoulder, his eyes lighting up in recognition.
“My friends are here,” he says, standing. He looks at Dakota. “Thanks for the dance.” His attention turns to me. “Wes, fuck you very much.”
I give him a two-fingered salute. “Right back at you.”
He walks away, and Dakota stares at me. “There must be something pretty contentious between you two.”
“Just brotherly shit.” I shrug it off, but I feel bad. Wyatt’s irresponsible way of living irritates me, but the injured look in his eyes always worms its way into me.
“He’s drunk,” she comments, watching him walk to the bar with two other guys.
What else is new? “I guess it’s a good thing I drank his beer.”
She exhales a laugh. “I guess so. He smelled like hard liquor when we were dancing.”
Speaking of… “You’re an incredible dancer. Where did you learn to do whatever that dance was?” My fingers brush the back of her neck and I feel the goose bumps raise.
“That was West Coast Swing. My sister and I took dance lessons with my dad when we were in high school.” A look comes over her face. “At the time I hated it. Now I see that he was just trying to hold on to us a little bit longer.” She smiles, but it’s not happy. More melancholy. She grabs a sandwich and takes a bite.
“It was a long time ago. Don’t beat yourself up.” I grab the second sandwich.
“You’re one to talk.”
Well, shit. She’s got me there. We finish our food in silence.
The music changes, the notes lengthening and the tempo slowing. “Dakota Wright, may I have this dance?” Slow dancing, I can do.
She doesn’t answer, just leans in and kisses me. I pull her up with me, leading her by the hand to the dance floor. When she folds into my chest, it feels like the first real breath I’ve taken since I pulled away from her in my truck.
We sway, and she lays her head on my chest. Her body molds to mine, and it strikes me that it is possible for one person to be made for another. Dakota is a wave, and I’m drowning in her, and I’ve never been so thrilled at the prospect of dying.
The song ends and I cup my hand around the back of her head. She looks up at me, her eyes dark and wanting. “Let’s get out of here.”
Wordlessly, I take her hand, leading her back the way we came.
We’re almost out of the place when I hear it. Through the music and voices, Wyatt is yelling.