A Creed in Stone Creek - Linda Lael Miller [99]
“You’re doing just fine,” she said.
He drew back just far enough to look her full in the face. She saw tenderness in those periwinkle eyes of his, and something that glowed like light. “Thanks,” he replied.
And they danced.
Dan Guthrie passed, with Holly in his arms, and Melissa waited for the pang she usually got when she saw them together, but it didn’t come.
When the song ended, the crowd parted, women laughing and fanning their flushed faces with their hands, men looking relieved to get a break from dancing.
Dan and Holly, hands clasped, came right through the path that had opened for them and straight to where Melissa and Steven were standing.
“Hello, Melissa,” Dan said, his tone solemn, his eyes fond as they rested on her for that first moment. His gaze almost immediately shifted to Steven, and he put out a hand, the way men do when they introduce themselves to a stranger, and added, “Dan Guthrie.”
Steven accepted the handshake. “Steven Creed,” he replied. “Good to meet you.”
Holly, a pretty thing, skinny except for the prominent baby bump pushing out the front of her cotton sundress, wore her blond hair pulled up into a ponytail that night. It bobbed near the top of her head. She couldn’t seem to stop smiling.
Dan slipped an arm around Holly’s waist and said, “This is my wife, Holly.”
Steven smiled and said hello.
It was all so ordinary, Melissa thought. So comfortable.
She and Dan might have been old friends, perhaps one-time classmates, instead of former lovers.
“How are Michael and Ray?” Melissa asked, as Steven took her hand.
Dan grinned proudly at the mention of his young sons. “They’re growing like weeds,” he said. “I swear, a bunkhouse full of hardworking cowpunchers couldn’t put away more food at a sitting than those two.”
Melissa laughed, felt a whisper of tenderness deep in her heart, not for Dan, but for what they’d once had together, and for his children. She opened her mouth to make some comment she wouldn’t remember two seconds later, but a burst of happy laughter from near the entrance stopped her.
Tom and Tessa had arrived, Tom looking handsome in civilian clothes—jeans and a nice Western shirt—Tessa exquisite in a sundress with a blue print and ruffles.
Seeing Melissa, Tom grinned and pointed an index finger at her before pulling Tessa through the throng of Stone Creekers to approach the group.
Dan and Tom shook hands, and the music started up again, compelling Dan and Holly to drift off into the swirl of sweaty noise and motion.
Melissa and Tessa chatted briefly, but since conversation was almost impossible, they soon gave up.
She sighed, looking up at Steven, as the other pair moved away. “They make a great couple,” she said.
Steven responded with a nod and then they, too, were dancing again.
After an hour or so, they stepped outside to get some fresh air and admire a sky full of stars. As the strains of a romantic ballad spilled from inside, Steven took Melissa into his arms and they waltzed in the shadows of the old building.
His smile was tender as he looked down at her. “I warned you about my dancing, didn’t I?” he drawled.
She laughed, enjoying the sheer masculinity he exuded, the controlled strength, the hard muscles of his arms and chest, the clean, woodsy scent of his cologne.
“You’re doing just fine,” she told him.
And they continued to dance, even between songs.
For Melissa, it was a time out of time. They’d stopped, and she’d just tilted her head back for the kiss she knew was coming, when someone drove into the lot at top speed, tires flinging gravel in all directions.
“What the hell—?” Steven muttered, still holding Melissa’s shoulders in his hands, but distracted now.
She peered through the darkness, saw Martine, who worked over at the Stop & Shop, jump out of her beat-up sedan.
“Help!” Martine yelled. “Somebody, help!”
The music drowned out her voice, but Steven and Melissa heard