Page 4 of Something’s Brewing

Not once did either of them ask the questions that would break the spell—last names, jobs, hometowns.

For one night, none of that mattered.

And every time he took her hand to lead her back onto the dance floor, that faint electric pulse flickered again, warm and unexpected.

She told herself it was the music or the excitement of the evening, but deep down Madison knew this night was a night she’d remember long after it was over. Which was exactly why she planned to keep it just that. A memory. Nothing more.

Near midnight, the crowd began thinning as couples slipped toward the exits. Garrett walked the mystery woman back onto the dance floor one last time. “One more?” he asked.

She smiled. “One last dance.”

The band struck up a slow, sweeping melody.

He guided her through the steps easily, spinning her outward before drawing her back toward him.

The last song slowed, the room dimming around them until it felt like they were the only two left moving.

He shouldn’t have pulled her closer. But he did.

His hand tightened at her waist, just enough to feel the shape of her beneath the silk, just enough to know he was crossing into something he wouldn’t be able to walk back from.

She didn’t pull away. If anything, she leaned in.

That was the problem. All night, he’d kept it light—easy conversation, anonymous smiles, no names, no history. A clean break when the night ended.

That had been the plan.

But now . . . his gaze dropped to her mouth. He hadn’t meant to take things any further, but he couldn’t seem to stop.

Her lips parted slightly, like she was waiting for him to make a move.

Hell. He lifted his hand before he could think better of it, his fingers brushing along her jaw—slow, deliberate—giving her time to stop him.

She didn’t.

His thumb settled just beneath her lip, grazing the soft edge of it, and her breath caught. That sound—quiet, barely there, hit him harder than it should have. He tilted her chin, just enough that his thumb traced the line of her mouth.

When she leaned in, he lowered his head.

Her body stilled and her breath hitched.

God, he wanted to lose himself in her, but at the last second, he shifted. Instead, his mouth brushed the corner of hers.

Her inhale caught against his lips. She didn’t move, didn’t pull back, like she was holding on to the moment as tightly as he was.

Every instinct in him pushed for more—to close the distance, to take the kiss he’d already started—but that wasn’t what this night was supposed to be.

He’d promised anonymity. If he kissed her for real, it wouldn’t end there. And he wasn’t sure he’d be able to walk away.

So, he forced himself back, slow and controlled.

He let his hand fall from her jaw, his thumb trailing once—light, almost absent—across her lip before he let go completely.

The song ended. The spell broke when applause erupted around them.

As she turned beneath his arm, the edge of her gown shifted slightly off her shoulder.

And Garrett caught sight of something, a small cluster of stars inked along the curve of her shoulder blade.