Page 9 of Raised On It (Between the Pines #1)

Miles

I hit send on my phone, sending a message to Amelia that says I’m still coming but running late.

Lou stares at me from the front window as I pull away from the house, guilt-tripping me in the process. How do people leave their kids at home? I can barely leave my damn dog home alone.

It’s a short drive to town, and I’m a little surprised to see how busy Main Street is for a weeknight.

Should be a fun time since Reece is home and a good distraction from thinking about the doe-eyed beauty who will only be a few blocks down the road.

Luckily, I had a Skype meeting with the team in Portland to occupy my time this afternoon, but those eyes are always haunting me.

The moment I pull the heavy wooden door open—before I’ve even had my first glimpse of neon—I know she’s here.

Goddammit if I don’t feel a change in the atmosphere, like a crackle, when she’s around.

What’s more surprising than feeling her in the room is finding her on the dance floor with my best friends.

I’m not trying to be a creeper, that title already belongs to Chris, Emmett’s ex who’s staring at her from the bar, but watching her sing and dance along with Amelia, Rachel and Emmett has taken me by surprise and doesn’t compute in my brain.

She’s shaking her hips with her hands above her head, one holding a bottle of EBC.

I think I just might be in love.

Wanting her is one thing but seeing her effortlessly meld so well with my friends like this is a whole other story.

There’s something about her that’s a little more refined than the rest of us. She doesn’t act differently, but deep down, it’s there. This isn’t her normal, and she’s enjoying getting to live like the rest of us regular folk for a change.

Thinking it’s time to stop stalking her like a pervert over here in the corner, I take my first step toward the bar when I see Peter, my lead at the farm, step up behind her and start bumping and grinding. I wouldn’t say I’m seeing red, but I know for certain I don’t like what I see.

Not giving it a second thought, I hastily make my way to the middle of the dance floor just as Mason turns around to see who’s all over her ass.

Mason’s eyes are as big as saucers when she sees me approaching.

That’s right, honey. If you’re dancing with anyone, it will be me.

I tap Peter on the shoulder and give a simple shake of my head letting him know the new girl in town is off-limits. Without question, he walks off the dance floor.

“Oh, really?” she yells over the blaring music, full of sass.

“Really.”

“Who says you have a say in who I dance with?” This time, she pops up on her tiptoes so she can talk in my ear .

“I do,” I say back in hers.

Gotta say, I love being this close to her.

“Is that so?”

“Does a cat have an ass?”

“What in the…?” Her head falls back on her shoulders in uncontrollable laughter, and I do believe she’s more than fine with me stepping in. “Did you just ask me if a cat has an ass?”

“I did. And does it?”

“Yes, of course!”

“Well, there you have it. That’s how certain I am that I have a say in who you dance with.”

“You. Are. A. Crazy. Person.”

“I think you like it. I think you like me.”

“Insufferable! That’s what you are!”

Before I can reply, we’re interrupted by Emmett and Amelia, looking a little irritated.

Amelia takes the lead. “So you two know each other?”

“We met my first night in town.” Mason seems embarrassed to admit.

“Of course you did,” Emmett says, smacking me on the arm. “We thought she was our new friend, but of course she already met the unofficial Eastlyn welcome wagon.”

“Hardly. I’ve offered to give her a tour of town, and she keeps shutting me down.”

“Hey, I let you take me to lunch today!” Mason counters.

“Wait, so you had been to lunch together before we met you at the salon today?”

Mason bites her lower lip nodding her head.

“So, when you heard us talking about Miles, you knew who we were talking about?”

“I figured it out,” my favorite little romance writer sheepishly admits, but what she’s admitting, I have no idea.

“What are you guys talking about? Why does Mason look like the cat who ate the canary?” I yell over the music .

“Oh, no reason,” Emmett says, not giving me even an inkling about what they’re talking about. “Who needs a beer?”

“Me!” The other girls yell in unison, effectively ending the conversation and leaving the dance floor.

On Amelia’s way off the dance floor, she mouths, “Sorry,” while Mason grins from ear to ear.

As she passes by, I let my fingers lightly graze hers, and much to my surprise, her fingers start to entwine with mine.

But the moment is fleeting because as soon as she does, she lets go.

When the tips of her fingers glide across the palm of my hand, I feel currents of electricity shooting through my entire body.

If this is what her touch does to me here in a public setting, then I’m afraid we might just burn this town down if we were to ever take this to the sheets.

Not that I’m in any kind of rush. This woman is the real deal, and I have no intention of messing things up, which is why I seize the moment before her hand has completely left mine, lifting it above her head and twirling her in a circle in front of me.

My man, Chris Stapleton, does me a solid and starts to sing a slow tune made for cuddling up real close on the dance floor.

“Dance with me.”

She doesn’t have to answer with words. The squeeze of her hand, and the bite of her lip along with the sparkle in her eye and the crackle in the air tell me she would like nothing more.

When I twirl her out in front of me—only to bring her back against my chest—her hands instantly find my shoulders, and she says, “Hi.” I know she’s right where she wants to be.

“I see you were so desperate to get to know me that you befriended my Crew.”

“If that’s what you need to tell yourself, then you go right ahead. I just happened to meet them at the salon today, and we hit it off. Besides, you don’t seem too unhappy to see me here.”

“Happier than a puppy with two peters. ”

Our slow sway is interrupted by her laughter.

“First, a cat’s ass and now, a puppy’s peters. Do you have some strange inappropriate fascination with domesticated animals?”

“If it keeps that smile on your face, I sure do.”

Once again, her eyes light up.

It’s crazy how good it feels to make her smile.

“I really like your friends.”

“Me too.”

“They’re a part of The Crew you were telling me about?”

“They sure are. They’re my family. I’d do anything for them.”

“And you’ve never dated any of them?”

“Somebody sounds a little jealous.”

“Not jealous, just curious.”

“Well, you can tuck that little green monster of yours away. They’ve always been like sisters to me.”

“Cool.”

We look like we’re at prom with the way her hands are around my neck and my hands wrap around her waist. I’m afraid to change our position, though. I don’t want to scare her away, so prom it is.

The song is over way too soon. The legendary George Strait comes on, and I start right in on a leisurely two-step before she can even think about her escape.

“Whoa, what are we doing? I have no idea how to do this.”

“It’s easy. Follow my lead and just remember it’s quick, quick, slow, slow,” I explain as I take the steps.

She instantly looks down at her feet.

“Eyes up.”

Her head pops up as instructed, and those soulful eyes of hers are wide and full of life.

“There you go. Just look at me and trust I have you.”

“Miles, I feel like such an idiot.” She loses the rhythm, and our feet collide. “You make it sound so simple.”

“It is. Say it with me. Quick, quick, slow, slow. You can feel it. ”

“Quick, quick, slow, slow. Quick, quick, slow, slow. I think I feel it.” Her face is determined, and there’s an adorable little crease between her eyebrows. She’s focused, and giving this her full attention.

Her eyes stay locked with mine as we both chant, “Quick, quick, slow, slow,” together until the crease between her eyebrows is gone, and her focused look is replaced by pure joy.

“Whoo-hoo! I’ve got it!” she yells, celebrating her victory.

“Oh, yeah?”

I twirl her out in front of me, and she squeals, but when she comes back to me, I haven’t missed a step, and she falls right back into it with me.

“Oh my, God! I’m still doing it! I’ve really got it, even after you tried to mess me up with your complicated little spin or whatever that was!”

“You must have had a good teacher.”

This earns me one of her eye rolls.

“I think we work well together, don’t you?”

Another eye roll and a shake of her head but her beaming smile says she’s having fun and agrees with me. She doesn’t have to admit it. I know we’re good together and so does she. She’ll get there.

I hear my name being yelled from across the bar and find the girls holding up fresh bottles of beer and pointing at the table they’ve procured for the evening.

“Shall we?”

Leaving the crowded dance floor is the last thing I want to do, but I don’t want to push my luck either. If I keep Mason all to myself, I’ll never hear the end of it.

Checking my watch, I can’t believe two hours have passed since we joined the other girls and Reece. Two hours of beers, laughter, and currently a crazy-ass game of Never Have I Ever. It certainly has been an educational way to get to know Mason a little better.

“You’ve seriously never had sex outside?” Rachel questions Mason in disbelief.

“I grew up in a crowded city. What can I say? I’m sure people have sex in Central Park all the time, but not this girl.”

Of course my mind is racing with all the different places in the great outdoors I’d like to use to change her answer for the next time she plays this game.

“Well, I guess there are more benefits to being a country girl than I knew. Your turn,” Rachel replies, turning the game over to Mason.

“Okay, let’s see… Never have I ever had a threesome.”

All eyes are on me, waiting for me to drink, and when I don’t, they turn suspicious.