Page 42 of Let's Call a Truce
He was pure temptation, and the tug-of-war kicked back up in full force as I filtered through the versions of him I knew. Supportive best friend. Judgmental colleague. Doting father.Sarcastic smart aleck.Phenomenalkisser. But he had that teasing smirk on his face, and falling back into our old patterns while I sorted through the mess in my head was the easiest option.
“And why would I do that?” I asked with a raised brow.
“Because you love dancing with me.”
“I’ll admit I didn’t hate dancing with you before, but I was also inebriated. Ask me again after six drinks. Then again, I’m taking it easy tonight, so you may be waiting awhile. I believe your table is over there if you want to sit until then.”
His grin widened. “So you’ve been watching where I am, huh? Come on. A slow song just started. I’m sure even you can behave yourself for one innocent slow dance.”
I rewarded him with an epic eye roll. “Oh yes, because controlling myself around you is so difficult.”
“The evidence suggests…” He trailed off. The smile on his face said he saw right through my act, but I still sighed before letting him take my hand to lead me to the dance floor. A jolt rushed through me at the touch.
Once we reached the crowd, Ben pulled me toward him, maintaining eye contact as he placed one hand on my hip, keeping my other hand in his. He kept a respectable distance between us, but even so, this dance seemed far from innocent. The heat from his hand burned right through my dress to the skin beneath.
“How are you doing?”
“I’m great. The night has been great. The venue. Oh, and the food. So great.”
He chuckled and leaned down to murmur in my ear. “I’m pretty sure that was one too many greats, baby.” I reared back, glaring at him over the pet name. He laughed again before the smile faded from his face. “But this has to be tough. I’m sure it’s making you think about your husband. Are you okay?”
His uncharacteristically solemn eyes pulled the truth from me before I realized what I was doing.
“It’s made me think of him. Jason. It’s impossible not to. God, our wedding was so different from this.” I gave a little laugh. His eyes crinkled in response. “But they’re happy memories. And he would want me to have fun today, not spend it mourning him.”
“He sounds like he was an incredible man.”
“He was.”
Ben’s relaxed face shocked me, like he was completely comfortable letting me talk about my husband.
“Who’s the groomsman following you around like a puppy?” He glanced over my shoulder. “Scratch that; more of a guard dog.”
I followed his gaze to find Marcus standing at the edge of the dance floor, a drink in each hand. He was shooting daggers at Ben, and it was the exact male posturing I had always found unattractive. Such a shame.
I looked back up at Ben with a grin. “Jealous?”
“What do I have to be jealous of? You’re out here with me, not him.”
“For now.”
One corner of his mouth twitched, a spark lighting his eyes up at my provocation. “You never answered my question. Who is he?”
“He’s Gabriela’s cousin. Herlolahas made it her life’s mission to marry us off.”
“Lola?”
“Her grandma.”
“And you’re okay with this?” He tried to act casual, but fear hid behind the question. I felt it in the way his hand subtly tightened on my waist.
“You don’t say no to Lola, Ben.” I feigned horror, and his smile returned. My stomach flipped at the sight, and I chastised myself.
Get ahold of yourself, Juliana. This is a mess waiting to happen, and you don’t have time to clean it up.
We swayed together in silence for a minute. I let myself pretend we were different people. Just a man and a woman who met and started falling for each other, not two people whose relationship was rife with conflict from the first meeting, with lives too interconnected to explore what could be without complications. My body relaxed on its own accord, melting into his arms as he pulled me closer to him. I fought the temptation to lay my head on his chest. He finally broke the silence.
“You could tell her you’re already interested in someone else.” His voice was soft, filled with an emotion I couldn’t—or wouldn’t—name.
