Page 48 of On the Rocks
My grandmother would say he looked “sharp,” if she were here. And I agreed.
He was a blade, and I knew I needed to stay away or I’d end up shredded.
“Hey,” he said when he was closer, lowering his voice. “Look, I’d really like the chance to properly apologize to you. And Iknowyou’d love a break from all of…this.” He looked around us for a moment before he found my gaze again. “So, please, Ruby Grace — dance with me.”
Noah pulled one hand from his pocket, extending it to me with a gentle smile. Something in my chest loosened at the sight, at someone seeing me without me saying a word. To everyone else, I was the charming, entertaining Ruby Grace tonight. But Noah saw what no one else did.
It seemed he had since that first day at the distillery.
A long sigh left my chest as I nodded, slipping my hand into his and letting him lead the way. Anthony had disappeared to go to the restroom about twenty minutes prior — the cameras from his media crew disappearing with him — and I imagined he’d been wrangled into conversation with someone else on his way back. And besides, I had danced with countless men that night. Noah was just one more, and it wasn’t frowned upon for the barrel buyers to dance with the raisers.
Logic and explanation aside, Iwantedto dance with Noah.
And maybe that was all that mattered to me in that moment.
I stared at my hand in his as he guided me to the dance floor in front of the band. His hand was so large, hard and calloused, his wrist thick and forearms lined with muscles and veins. My hand disappeared inside his grasp, my dainty wrist sparkling with the tennis bracelet I wore. He was all down-home country, and I was refined country royalty.
Still, I marveled at how well my hand fit in his.
When we made it to the dance floor, he stopped, pulling me into him until his hand was on my waist, the other still holding my hand. For a long, stretched moment in time, he just watched me, his eyes dancing between mine. A small smile found his lips, and he nodded once before taking the first step, leading the way and guiding me along with his movements.
And then, we were dancing.
The song was a familiar one in Tennessee, “I Cross My Heart” by George Strait. The lead singer of the band crooned out the lyrics as everyone on the floor gently swayed or two-stepped.
But Noah?
Noah guided me in a beautiful waltz.
“How do you know this?” I asked, smile breaking on my face despite my urge to be angry with him after Sunday night.
“What? Waltz?”
I nodded.
Noah smiled, stepping with me into a soft turn before pulling me back into his arms. “My mom. She and Dad used to dance after dinner every single night — in the living room, the kitchen, wherever. And after Dad passed, the tradition didn’t stop. My brothers and I take turns dancing with her. And bless her, she taught us all with patience.”
My heart squeezed. “I bet that means so much to her.”
“Yeah,” he said, and I waited for him to continue, but he just swallowed, forcing a bit of a smile before he changed the subject. “I’m sorry about what I said Sunday night, Ruby Grace. I was out of line.”
He twirled me again, and I was thankful for the break in eye contact before we spun back together. Of course, that break in eye contact was long enough for me to realize how manyotherpairs of eyes were locked on us at the moment.
“Thank you,” I said, glaring right back at one of Mama’s friends until she tore her gaze away before I looked back at Noah. “Seems like half our conversations are apologies.”
“Well, I’m an asshole,” he offered honestly. “And you’re stubborn.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Am not.”
Noah just smirked, falling back into step as the song’s chorus flowed around us. His smile leveled out the longer he watched me. “So, why didn’t you tell me Anthony was coming into town?”
“I didn’t know he was,” I shot, and I couldn’t stop the defensiveness from breaking through. “And even if I did, I don’t see why I would owe it to you to tell you.”
Noah lifted his brows. “I was just trying to make conversation.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Why are you so defensive?”