Second Chances with St. Nick

5. Slow Dances and Swoon

5

SLOW DANCES AND SWOON

C issy and I stood at the bar. “Oh, my lord, I can’t believe you made me do karaoke,” I said.

She batted my arm with the back of her hand. “You weren’t too bad.”

I shook my head slowly. “I sounded like a cross between Ariana Grande and a chipmunk. Like I’d sucked in a balloon-full of helium before I took the stage.”

Cissy giggled and cast her eyes over the bar. “You didn’t shatter any glasses. That’s a win, in my opinion.”

Gripping the solid pine bar top, I tipped back yet another dubious-colored drink. I hadn’t had so much fun in ages. Sure, the lyrics on the karaoke screen looked like a foreign language, and I hit my notes with the precision of a toddler finger-painting, but no one threw anything or walked out. Like Cissy said—it was a win.

As I put down my glass, the volume of the music amped up, and Cissy jumped off her bar stool, wiggling her hips to the beat. Within seconds, one of her friends put her arm through my cousin’s and stole her away to dance.

I forced a smile, wrapping my fingers around my empty glass. Glancing around, I didn’t recognize anybody. There wasn’t one familiar face.

A man’s voice drawled behind me. “You about ready for another one of those, little lady?”

My belly rolled as the smell of stale tobacco assaulted my nostrils. I turned over my shoulder to see a dark-haired man wearing a lopsided smirk.

“No, thanks. I’m good,” I said with a half-smile.

He stepped closer, resting his hand on the bar, so his arm was barely centimeters from my back. “You’re too pretty to drink alone.”

I tugged my brows together, turning around on my stool to face him. “I’m not drinking on my own. I’m with my friends.”

His eyes flickered over to the dance floor and back. “Your friends aren’t drinking. They’re dancing. Want to join them? I could show you how to move.”

A shudder ran through me as his beer-leaden breath hit me full on in the face. “Like I said, I’m good, thanks. Besides, I have two left feet. You’d end up with bruises on your toes.”

The man looked me up and down, his teeth gripping his lip. “I’m sure there’s many ways you could bruise me. My heart, my…”

“Ego?” I asked, twisting my lips. “Like I said, thanks, but no thanks.”

A deep scowl scored into his forehead. “I was just trying to be nice. Trying to get you to smile.”

I sucked in a breath, about to shut the man down once and for all. But as I did, someone stepped next to me and warm fingers curled around mine.

“That’s my job.”

I turned toward the voice, widening my eyes as the scent of cinnamon wrapped around me. I let out a small breath.

The second our eyes locked, my heart jumped.

With a squeeze of my hand, Nick brought his lips to my ear. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

My mind whipped back to the moment he’d caught my fall from the ladder. He’d said the same thing then. I didn’t strictly need his help, but damn… with the jitters running through my body at Nick being so close, I’d take any assistance right now.

I smiled and Nick drew up to his full height beside me. I’d seen church steeples shorter than he looked right now.

Tobacco man blinked slowly as he looked up at Nick. “I didn’t mean any harm. I just thought she might want to dance.”

Nick tipped his head to one side. “And I appreciate you looking after my girl, but I think I’ve got it from here.”

My old friend gently pulled my hand, guiding me off the stool. Drawing me closer, he led me onto the crowded dance floor. I looked around, spotting Cissy and her friends dancing to a tune I didn’t know.

“You okay?” Nick asked, reclaiming my attention.

I nodded, about to thank him, but the tempo of the music dropped, and the floor cleared. I moved to join the departing crowd, but Nick held onto my hand, stopping me from leaving.

We stood frozen, staring at each other. My heart pummeled into my rib cage and my breath trembled in my throat. Eventually, he gave me a sad smile. “Would you dance with me, Abbie?”

I swallowed hard. My mind couldn’t form words. Would I dance with Nick? Oh, hell yes. But I couldn’t speak, I just nodded.

He closed his eyes for three of my heart beats before slipping his hand around my waist and pulling me close.

The millisecond our bodies met, mine came alive. Every nerve ending lit up with energy. Following Nick’s lead, I weaved one hand around his back and brought the other to rest against his chest. The second I found his heartbeat, he brought his palm to cover my skin and rested his chin on the top of my head. I hadn’t felt so alive in years.

Pressed so close against him, I dared to peek through my lashes. The man who’d offered me the drink had followed us and was staring onto the dance floor. After a few seconds, he moved back toward the bar. I turned my head away, looking up to study my first love.

I disagreed with Mom. A beard suited Nick. It didn’t hide his cheekbones. Instead, it clung to them like ivy on a tree. His fair lashes gently flittered against his honey skin and my heart fairly melted at the smallest smile on his lips.

“Nick, I think we should talk.”

He opened his eyes to meet mine. “I’m sorry, but I don’t want to. I don’t think we have much left to say to each other.”

The bottom of my stomach dropped away, like someone pulled a trap door. “But I need to tell you why I…”

He shook his head. “No, you don’t. I’d rather leave my heart intact this time.” Nick let out a thick breath. “Has he gone? The man at the bar, I mean.”

I faltered. I could lie—say the man was still watching—give Nick every reason to keep me in his embrace. But our movement would spin us around eventually, and he’d know I’d not told the truth. I nodded, blood ringing in my ears. “He’s gone.”

“Good.” Nick’s voice was low and gravelly.

I swallowed away a lump in my throat, about to ask him to stay, but the minute I opened my mouth, Nick spoke.

“Please. I mean it. I don’t want to talk.”

We locked eyes. The colored lights flooding the walls fought with the golden flecks in Nick’s irises. He looked so sad. So devastatingly rugged and handsome. Against my better judgment, I nodded, and he pulled me back in close to his body.

I lay my ear against his chest and listened to the steady pound of his heart through the solid wall of his pecs. I let out a tiny sigh. What I wouldn’t give to be trapped here forever.

As if hearing my brain’s chatter, Nick drew his hand across my back, resting his palm between my shoulder blades. His thumb moved softly from side to side as if committing the feel of me to memory.

We circled around to the music, moving slowly. With each step, each brush of our bodies, a pulse of energy nudged low in my belly. It took all my energy to not pull him into me. To resist the urge to press back into him. But all too soon, the music ended.

Nick and I slowly uncurled from each other, and I looked tentatively into his eyes. There was a glow there, but something else. Like emptiness or regret. My chest tugged.

After the longest beat, he took a breath. “Thank you for the dance. It meant a lot.” The husky burr of his voice lingered in the air between us. Before I could reply, he took my face in his outsized palms and placed a soft kiss on my forehead. His lips stayed far longer than a friend’s should, and my throat tightened.

After what felt like forever, he loosened his fingers on my cheeks, bringing his mouth to my ear. “Goodbye, Abbie,” he said, before turning and walking away.

As I watched him make his way across the dance floor and out of my life, my heart skittered like a baby goat running on floorboards. I wrapped my arms around my body, trying to lock in his heat. He’d said goodbye once already tonight, but fate had brought him back to me.

I looked up into the rafters above, and a disco beat pulsed in the air once more. With a shake of my head, I sent a silent prayer to St Anthony, patron saint of lost people, asking him for one more chance to see Nick. I only hoped he could hear me above the noise.