“Oh?”
“Yeah. They’re the first thing you’ve liked about me.”
“That’s not true.” Her face turned scarlet. Touchdown. He’d wondered what it would take to bring that blush to her cheeks, and now he knew.
The song ended and they made their way onto the grooved floor. He placed a hand on her side. She was smaller than him, enough so that he couldn’t reach her waist without bending down. She hesitated, staring at his arm.
“Are we going to do this?” he prompted.
“Yeah, I’m just thinking that I missed some line in heaven where they handed out stature and muscle and you stood in it, like, three times.”
He chuckled, picked up her hand, and placed it on his arm. “They don’t bite.”
She kneaded his arm. “They aren’t as hard as I thought they’d be.”
This made him laugh right out loud. He flexed. “How’s that?”
She grinned and relaxed into him. “Okay. Okay. Stop showing off.”
The music started up and he counted out a one-and-two, pause, three-and-four, before lifting his foot and leading her around the room. Despite Tiffany’s stickiness, she had been a decent dance instructor.
He had to shorten his stride considerably for Bree’s little legs. After they made a pass safely, he decided to try talking. “What is it you do at the library?”
“I’m a librarian and head of the children’s department.”
“A librarian.” He liked the way she was proud of her title, like he was about football.
“Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like it’s just so cute that I’m a librarian.”
“Don’t you like being cute?”
She rolled her eyes.
“Ooooh, you don’t like being a librarian,” he teased.
“Ilovebeing a librarian.”
“Why?” Librarians were inside all day with dry and dusty books, computers, and unnatural lighting. Being on the field was better by a thousand. He looked up in time to see a potential collision and flattened his hand against her back, pulling her close.
She gasped. His steps faltered at the sound, and he stumbled into the brownie table, taking her with him. Brownies scattered to the floor. The music stopped and everyone stared. Thankfully, the table stayed up, and so did the two of them.
Owen stared at Bree, wrapped tightly in his arms. “I’m usually more coordinated than that.” He’d grabbed her like a quarterback he was about to sack, only he wasn’t going to fall on her; he’d twisted so she would have landed on him if he didn’t keep his footing. The table helped keep him from going over.
Up close, Bree smelled like chocolate. “You okay?”
She nodded, avoiding his gaze.
The band leader counted out the beat and the song resumed. People picked up where they’d left off in the dance. And Owen continued to stare at Bree. She had a worry line between her eyes. He’d not noticed that before.
Bree jerked. “Dickens! The brownies.” She scrambled out of his hold to pick them up. However, some had been flattened as couples boot-scooted out of the way of the two of them. Actually, they were probably afraid he would run over them and weren’t so worried about the tiny librarian.
“I’m so sorry.” She held out her hand, a brown lump of goo in plastic wrap resting on her palm.
“It’s okay. I couldn’t eat them all anyway.”