around Christine Briscoe’s shoulders. “Great to see you. How have you been? You look lovely. Shall we dance?”
“Um...” Christine, who’d worked for his father’s real estate agency in Houston for close to a decade, seemed at a loss for words. That was fine. Gavin didn’t need her to speak. As long as she came with him.
The man standing next to her, average height with dark hair and the start of a paunch that indicated he’d done too many keg stands back in college, frowned and made to step forward. Gavin took an immediate dislike to the guy but flashed a grin and held up one finger. “You don’t mind if I steal Christine for a dance, right?”
He didn’t wait for an answer. He grabbed Christine’s hand—soft skin and fine-boned, he noticed—and tugged her toward the dance floor, breathing a sigh of relief as he saw that Schuyler had been waylaid by a distant cousin on their mother’s side of the family.
The music changed from an up-tempo dance number to a slow ballad. Automatically, he wrapped his arms around Christine’s waist, careful to be respectful of her personal space since he’d basically hijacked her for this dance.
She lifted her hands to his shoulders and glanced up at him.
“Hi, there,” he said with his most charming smile.
“Hi,” she breathed. “You, too. Well. Thanks. Yes.”
He felt his mouth drop open and closed it again. “I think I missed part of the conversation.”
She tugged her bottom lip between her teeth and his mouth went dry. He’d known Christine for years, but how had he never noticed the way her mouth was shaped like a perfect Cupid’s bow, the lower lip slightly fuller and damned kissable, if he had the inclination?
Which he didn’t. He couldn’t. She was a cover to save him from his sister’s meddling in his private life. Clearly, Schuyler had messed with his head because he’d never thought of Christine as anything more than a casual friend before this moment—never gave her much thought at all if he had to admit the truth.
“I’m responding to your comments,” she answered, somewhat primly. “It’s great to see you, too. I’m well. Thanks for the compliment. Yes, I’d like to dance.”
“Ah.” He felt one side of his mouth curve. This time the smile was natural. Why did it feel so unfamiliar? “You’re precise.”
She frowned. “Oh, you weren’t looking for a response? The questions were rhetorical.” Color flooded her cheeks and it fascinated him to watch the freckles that dotted her skin almost disappear against the blush. “I should have figured.”
“No... I...” He shook his head. “I’m a little bit off my game tonight.”
“Your game,” she murmured.
“Not that this is a game,” he amended quickly. “It’s a wedding.”
“Your sister’s wedding,” Christine agreed, sounding amused.
“The Fortunados are dropping like flies,” he said, glancing around for Schuyler, whom he thankfully didn’t see in the vicinity. “Schuyler seems to think I’m next. Can you keep a secret?”
Christine nodded solemnly.
“I told her I have a girlfriend.”
“But you don’t?”
“No, and that’s how I like it.” He pulled her closer to avoid a couple trying some sort of complicated spin and tried not to notice the feel of her soft curves pressing against the front of his tux. This dance was about avoiding Schuyler. Nothing more. “For some reason, my sister can’t seem to accept that. It was easier to lie, although I’m not sure she believed me.”
“I’m sure you could find a girlfriend if you wanted one.”
He grimaced. “But I don’t want one. Not even a little bit.”
“Oh.”
He had the strange sensation that he’d disappointed her and didn’t like the feeling.
“How’s Denver?” Christine asked quietly after a moment of awkward silence between them.
“Good,” he answered and struggled to come up with something better to say. Something interesting. Charming. Gavin was well-known for his charm. He had an easy way with women that made him popular, even with his ex-girlfriends. Where was that legendary charm now?
He couldn’t figure out what the hell was wrong with him. Had he allowed Schuyler to rattle him that much? Hell, he came from a family of six kids. Good-natured teasing was nothing new.
“Did you cut your ski trip short to come to the wedding?”
He blinked. “I did, actually. How did you know?”
“Your sisters talk about you a lot,” she said. She stiffened in his arms, making him regret questioning her. He liked dancing with Christine. She was just the right height and her body fit against his perfectly. She smelled clean and fresh, like strawberries or springtime or sunshine. Okay, that was stupid. Sunshine didn’t have a scent.
He needed to get a hold of himself, but all he could manage was hoping she’d relax into him again. The song ended and another ballad began. Gavin would have to tip the bandleader later for his sense of timing.
“Do you ski?” he asked, tightening his hold on her ever so slightly, splaying his hand across her lower back.
She laughed, low and husky, and his stomach flipped wildly. He hadn’t expected that kind of laugh from straitlaced Christine Briscoe. “No skiing for me. I’ve never even been to Colorado.”
“You’ll have to visit,” he told her. The way her eyes widened in shock was like he’d invited her to have wild monkey sex on the hood of his car. The image did crazy things to his breathing, and he pushed it out of his mind.
“Th-things are b-busy,” she stammered, “at the office right now.”
“That’s right. You moved to Austin to manage the new branch. My dad mentioned that.”
“I’m originally from Austin, and it was a great opportunity,” she confirmed. “Of course, I loved working for your dad in Houston, too.”
“Of course.” He felt the sensation of someone staring at him and glanced toward the bar. The man Christine had been standing next to was still there, shooting daggers in Gavin’s direction.
“Did I steal you from your boyfriend?” Even though it was no business of his, he didn’t like the idea of this woman belonging to another man.
She shook her head, her full mouth pursing into a thin line. “Maddie and Zach invited everyone from the Austin office to the wedding. Bobby and I work together, but that’s all, despite his best efforts. He’s a good real estate agent but can’t seem to understand that I’m not interested in dating him. In fact, you kind of rescued me.”
“So then I’m your hero?”
Christine blushed again, and Gavin couldn’t help but wonder what it would take to make her whole body flush that lovely shade of pink.
“I don’t know about that,” she murmured, her gaze focused on the knot of his bow tie.
He forced a chuckle, ignoring the pang of disappointment that lanced his chest at her words. What was going on with him tonight? He didn’t want or need to be anyone’s hero. “Already you know me too well,” he said as the song ended.
Her eyes darted to his like she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “I should get back to...um...the bar.” She squeezed shut her eyes then opened them again and offered him a lopsided smile. The first strains of a popular country line dance song started. “I’m not much for this kind of dancing.”
“We have that in common,” he told her then led her through the crowd. “Thanks