Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 107710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Not unless he counted Natalie.
This woman was . . . him. She was why he’d come.
“I’m not dancing to this,” she shouted over the music.
“Are you serious? This song was written about you,” August called back, grooving closer.
“I wasn’t even born when this song was written.”
“The Commodores must have seen you coming.” He snagged her wrist and spun her around, noticing the beginnings of a smile creeping in. “On the other hand, I did not,” he said, leaning down to speak into her neck. “See you coming, that is.”
Her eyes shot to his, a furrow appearing in her brow. As if trying to decipher whether or not he was putting her on. “The only reason I’m going to dance with you right now is this. My mother picked ‘(I’ve Had) The Time of My Life’ from Dirty Dancing as our first dance song. I don’t know what in the hell she was thinking. Everyone expects a lift at the end of that song. Or a dancing flash mob. She clearly didn’t think it through.”
“Her oversight is my gain. Which song did you pick?” He rubbed his chin, as if he hadn’t already spent hours pondering this. “Let me guess. ‘You’re So Vain’?”
Natalie’s mouth dropped open.
“Knew it. Get moving.” He performed a pretty stilted version of the hustle. Not because he wasn’t amazing at it, but because Natalie was on the verge of giving up the fight. She was starting to bump her shoulders to the music and Lord, when Natalie allowed herself to enjoy him, even for just a few minutes, it was like holding a puppy in one hand and a foot-long hoagie in the other. Bliss. “For the record, though, I could have lifted you Johnny Castle style.”
Natalie was already shaking her head. “This dress has about forty pounds of crystals sewn into it. I would have knocked you out.”
“I’m known for absorbing blows to the head without losing a step.”
“Should we test that theory?”
“No, but we should definitely test the lift theory when we get home.”
They were in the middle of the dance floor having this conversation, and August was pretty damn sure Natalie had no idea she was dancing. As if he didn’t already find this woman attractive beyond human comprehension, she had to go and look good cutting a rug, too. Just effortless and fluid and sexy. In rhythm. How was it even fair?
“You’re proposing that, after we’ve both consumed our fair share of champagne, we go home and try the Dirty Dancing lift?”
He winked at her. “You’re damn right, princess.”
She pitched toward him, laughing. “Do you think they’ll give us lollipops if we’re brave enough in the emergency room?”
“Maybe we’ll get lucky and end up on Sex Sent Me to the ER.”
“In your wildest dreams, Cates.”
“In your wildest dreams, Cates.”
Natalie jolted slightly. “Oh my God, I’m Natalie Cates now.”
His bow tie was suddenly way too tight. “It has a certain ring to it.”
The shake it down, shake it down now portion of the song started and he hit the running man while she effortlessly worked the Batusi. Shit, he was falling deeper for her the longer this song went on. His team would love her. They’d worship the ground she walked on for not putting up with his crap but occasionally giving in, wouldn’t they? “We’re doing the lift.”
“We’re so not doing the lift.”
“What are you afraid of?”
“A concussion, for one.”
He scoffed. “You seriously think I would ever drop you? My beloved wife?”
This time when she laughed, her eyes were sparkling, the sound piercing him right in the middle of his chest. Although he wondered if she would be laughing if she knew he wasn’t laying it on all that thick. She danced for another few seconds, then rolled her eyes up at the ceiling. “Fine, we’ll try it. But if I end up with an injury, you’ll be waiting on me hand and foot until I’ve healed.”
“I’d do that anyway, if you asked me to.”
If the music wasn’t blasting, August was pretty sure he’d have heard Natalie gulp. “You’d wait on me hand and foot?”
“Yes. At least until I annoyed you enough to be banned from entering your room. Even on my best behavior, that could happen pretty quickly.” She was biting her bottom lip to keep her full smile from blooming again. They were close enough now that he could see the indentation of her teeth and the light sheen in the hollow of her throat that was proof of a good dance session. His hands were on her hips before he realized they were moving and, praise Jesus, her eyelids drooped on contact, followed by a measured intake of her breath. “We fail at the lift, I become your servant. We succeed . . .”
He pressed and dragged his thumbs along the curve of her hip bones, tugging her close by the skirt of the wedding dress.