What The Heart Wants (8 page)

Anna felt a warm breath by her ear. “The first one is mine,” Eric told her. She felt her spine straighten.

In the weeks following the events with Eric and Sam, Anna had thrown herself fully into wronged-woman mode. She blasted female empowering alternative rock. She reread the book of feminist poetry an ex-best friend had forced her to read when they were teenagers.

In the past, she had never had to deal with the feelings men tend to bring with them- extreme hope and excitement followed by a strange cocktail of sadness, anger, and a need for vengeance. If she were to be completely honest, the real reason she bought a new dress and worked so hard on her appearance was to drive Eric and Sam crazy and get the pleasure she would feel by turning them down.

“It doesn’t work that way,” she told him, keeping her eyes on the dance floor.

“Tonight it does,” he said, walking toward the sign-in table.

She was still seething from his arrogance when she felt a tap on her shoulder. A young man stood there, somewhere between Ashley’s age and her own. He was good looking in a nerdy kind of way with his average brown hair and his quirky horn-rimmed glasses. He extended his hand to her, “I believe the next dance belongs to me, my lady,” he said and they both laughed.

She took his hand and was led onto the dance floor for another fast oldie.

It turned out her dance partner was named Devon and he wasn’t a nerd at all, rather what they would have called a hipster in more populated areas. He was witty and charming and within a few spins, he had her forgetting all about her mediocre dance abilities and her face broke out into a huge infectious smile.

The song ended too quickly and Devon kissed her hand and walked off the dance floor. The band took the tempo down. A slow, sad song started and Anna’s stomach clenched when she felt a hand on her lower back. The bastard had found a way around the rules after all. But when arms circled around her, her face became pushed against a chest too wide to be Eric’s.

She looked up to see Sam. He offered her a half-smile she noticed before she looked away. He looked handsome, damn him, in a blue dress shirt he had refused to tuck in.

His wide hand pressed harder against her back, pushing her against his chest tightly. His other hand increased pressure on hers as they swayed. She had only slow danced a few times in her life and never had it been so… close.

Despite her resolution to loathe the man, her body apparently didn’t get the message that he had betrayed her. She felt her heartbeat speed up and she felt unbearably hot. Sam’s finger started to trace small circles across her lower back and she felt herself melt against him.

Mercifully, the song was short and Sam stepped back quickly when another man tapped on his shoulder, claiming the next dance. She knew he was trying to catch her eye but she kept hers downcast until he was off of the dance floor.

The next few songs were fast-paced and she had a new partner for each. Some were high schoolers, Hank claimed her for one, and two older gentlemen with shockingly spry dance moves had her very much enjoying her time.

The next song came on, and with no partner, she made her way back to the refreshment table, accepting a cup of punch from Hank’s kind looking wife. She had just raised it to her lips when it was pulled away from her. “This one is mine,” Eric told her, sounding almost angry. He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the dance floor.

Everything about how he was carrying himself made her believe he was going to grab her and haul her against his body. But instead, his hand landed lightly on her hip. She looked up at him, devilishly good looking in all black. His head was cocked to the side as if gauging if she would accept him. When she didn’t back away, his arm snaked across his hips, pulling her to him.

His other hand didn’t reach to pull hers out to an angle as one would with a traditional slow dance. Instead, he pulled it under his arm and up his back to rest between his shoulder blades, her fingers brushing the back of his neck. Her face was resting against his chest and she could feel his heartbeat on her cheek. She felt his chin come down to rest on the top of her head. The music pulsed. It was a song she didn’t recognize but had a crooning tone that sounded deeply erotic.

Eric’s arms squeezed her and she shut her eyes, blocking out everything but how good it felt to just be held.

The song was long and she almost felt sleepy in Eric’s arms. Then it finally ended and neither of them immediately let go. She felt a hand at her shoulder as the band switched to a recent chart-topping number.

Eric’s eyes were seething and she didn’t have to turn around to know who had claimed the next spot on her dance card.

Then Eric nodded stiffly at her and walked away.

Sam looked sheepish when she turned to face him. “You’re a terrible dancer,” he said, his usual lopsided grin in place.

She knew he was just teasing her but she felt her heckles rise. Why would he take up her time just to admit to her he wasn’t going to enjoying dancing with her? Just to prove that in that situation he had the upper hand? Or just because she had been dancing with Eric? Maybe he thought that kissing her (and regretting it) somehow gave him the right to be territorial.

“Well I’ll save you the embarrassment then. I need to go freshen up,” she said, proud of how strong her voice sounded. “I’ll have Maude refund your money.”

She turned on her heel and rushed out of the gym before her shaky legs could betray her real feelings.

The bathroom was empty when she went in, leaning against the cool tile wall, she heard the door open behind her. “You,” she said in outrage as Maude walked past her to reapply makeup in the mirror.

“Aw girl, don’t go blaming me,” she laughed. “I told you that O’reilly boy was going to be trouble.”

Anna snorted. “Not as much trouble as Sam Flynn.”

Maude turned to her, a frown creasing her eyebrows. “Sam Flynn ain’t never been trouble a day in his life. He’s a good man by all accounts. What did he do to you?”

Anna slipped one of her aching feet out of her shoe, holding it a few inches off the floor and flexing it. “I thought you were like the town psychic,” she grumbled.

“Of course,” Maude puffed up, insulted. “but honey... ain’t much clear about men and women. And all that sexual energy you and those two boys are giving off is enough to fog even God’s sight.”

Annabelle shrugged, feeling suddenly very tired even though the night was only half over. “I have to get back,” she said, reaching for the door. “Oh, and you owe Sam a dollar.”

“That a girl,” Maude laughed, “You’re gonna be fine after all.”

Anna went back to the gym and found she had mostly occupied dance slots. So when she got to sit out two dances in a row, she realized there was no way Eric and Sam had given up that easily. Across the room at the sign in table, Maude winked at her. She must have been turning them away for her.

Anna didn’t take comfort in that notion though. The woman had some kind of trick up her sleeve and she knew it was something she would most certainly not enjoy.

The crowds in the stands lessened and lessened as the elderly got tired and the parents of the young children decided they needed to find their beds.

The music stopped and a man in his sixties took the stage. He was a burly and strapping man with his silver hair slicked back from his forehead and his immaculate gray suit. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” he started in a clear, booming voice that suggested he was accustomed to public speeches. “For those of you who don’t know me,” he looked around the crowd and she would swear his eyes found hers. “my name is Jonathan Sinclair. I am one of the five founders of this little shindig. We are proud to inform you that we have finally broken the record we have had for four years running. This is fully in credit, I’ve no doubt, to all you lovely ladies,” he smiled and Anna was bawled over by his enigmatic charm. “And now we have the grand finale. Ladies, if you will please join me on stage.”

All the women climbed on stage, giggling and smiling. She was apparently the only one who was a bundle of nerves. Then each lady was called forward to be bid on in five-dollar increments for one final dance. One by one, the women were led off stage with their dance partners to wait for the band to begin again.

When her name was finally called, she made her way over to Mr. Sinclair who held an arm out to her. “And now for the lovely Annabelle Goode.”

He started the bidding and the first was placed by a random townsman and quickly replaced by Sam calling ten. Then almost at the same time, Eric calling fifteen. Then Sam twenty. Eric twenty-five. Back and forth quickly. Everyone’s eyes went back and forth between Sam, Eric, and her. A few women sent her knowing smiles and men shook their heads laughing quietly.

Mr. Sinclair was looking uncomfortable. He cleared his throat quietly. Fifty. Fifty-five. “There are plenty of lovely ladies left gentlemen…”

But they weren’t listening.

Anna felt her face redden as she shifted her feet nervously.

Then loudly through the crowd, drowning out Eric’s growl of a bid, “Five-hundred. She’s mine, suckers,” Devon called, running up to the stage, grabbing Anna’s hand and handing the money to Mr. Sinclair. He pulled her down the stairs and brought her over to the refreshment stand. “It had to be done before an outright brawl started,” he grinned, handing her a cup of punch which she drank thirstily.

“You’re my hero,” she laughed.

“I’ve always been a sucker for a damsel in distress. So spill… what’s the deal with that love triangle of yours?”

“There is no love triangle,” she blurted a little too quickly.

“I think the lady doth protest too much,” he teased.

“Sam kissed me,” she admitted. “Once. That’s it.”

Devon nodded. “And O’reilly?”

“Literally nothing happened with him.” At his disbelieving raised eyebrow, she rushed on, “I know. I know. He’s like this legendary player but nothing happened there. Scouts honor.”

Devon glanced over her shoulder. “He may not have tried anything yet, but let me promise you something: he wants to.”

Anna craned her neck over her shoulder to where Devon was looking. Eric was standing by the exit. He was watching them and when he noticed her looking, he smiled slowly and winked before leaving.

She glanced around trying to get a glimpse of Sam but he was nowhere to be found.

Devon pulled her onto the dance floor for the final song and held her at a chaste distance. “I’m going to pay you back, you know,” she told him.

Devon’s eyebrow dipped in confusion. “For what?”

“For me. This dance. Five hundred dollars was an insane bid.”

Then Devon surprised her by letting out a loud laugh, throwing his head back like a little kid. “Oh hush,” he said, still smiling. “I’m from one of the founding families, Anna. We have money coming out of our ears. Besides,” he said, reaching forward and tugging a strand of her hair like a brother would. “you’re worth every penny.”

After the dance was over, Devon led her out to her car, bowed to her and told her to get home safely.

Back at home, Anna stood out in her yard, cooling off after hours in a hot gym. She flexed her sore, blistered feet in the cold grass as she reflected on the evening. She had to hand it to Hank, she really had a great night. It was an easy way to talk to new people without the pressure of sitting across the table from someone. Devon had been a blast.

Anna shook her head, realizing the people she’d connected to the most effortlessly were Ashley and Devon- both teenagers.

Sighing as the wind cooled her flushed face, she reached behind her back, looking for the zipper to her dress. It budged about a quarter of an inch before it got stuck. She cursed under her breath.

“I can help you with that,” Sam said behind her and she shrieked, spinning to face him with a hand on her pounding heart. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he apologized.

“Then you shouldn’t sneak up on people,” she snapped. She had never been the kind of person who was comfortable expressing her frustration or anger and she wasn’t entirely sure why she was so annoyed with Sam.

Sam cocked his head to the side at her tone. “You didn’t answer when I knocked,” he explained calmly.

Having no further comment, Anna reached down to retrieve her shoes. “Did Maude get your money back?” she asked, walking toward her back porch and dropping the shoes inside the kitchen door.

Sam shook his head and sighed. “She stormed over, smacked me upside my head and informed me she was keeping my dollar because I was sending Little Red Riding Hood to the wolf.”

“She’s a cryptic woman,” Anna hedged, not wanting to have that conversation.

“Look I don’t need a Rosetta stone to interpret that. She was talking about you. And Eric.” He stepped a little closer. “I saw you dancing with him tonight.”

“I danced with a lot of men tonight,” she said, lifting her chin defiantly as her stomach rolled.

“I saw you with him,” he said. “and I didn’t like it.” He stepped closer still.

“I don’t dance with people to please or,” she said wishing she could move away but her back was against the door. “displease you.”

“This was different and you know it. This wasn’t Devon with all his harmless boyish charm. Or Thomas the seventy-year old retired librarian. No one else was holding you like they knew every secret your body had to offer, Anna.”

He was only a foot away, looking down at her with those annoyingly kind eyes. He had unbuttoned his shirt down to mid-chest and the wind blew it open slightly. Anna shook her head to clear it and looked up at him. “Just because you kiss me. Once. Doesn’t mean you get to pick and choose who I can spend time with. And just because you’re… jealous of Eric…”

“Damn it, Anna,” Sam broke in. “this isn’t about O’reilly.”

“Then why do you keep bringing him up?” she countered.

“I didn’t. I,” Sam raked a frustrated hand through his hair. “I don’t want to see you get hurt. Mam was like a second mother to me and…”

“Oh,” the word exploded out of her mouth like an accusation. “so that’s what this is really about. Because you were close with Mam, you feel the need to… I don’t know… protect me from the big bad wolf,” she laughed humorlessly. “I have news for you, Flynn. I’m not a child. I don’t need some babysitter for a next-door neighbor. And even if Eric had stripped me naked and we fucked on the dance floor,” she seethed, pleased when Sam flinched at her language. “it would not be any of your concern. And. And! I mean if you were so worried about what Mam would think of people’s behavior toward me, then why would you kiss me and then disappear for weeks?”