Unbroken Hearts Page 14

  “Deal.”

  “Hey, cowboy. Wanna dance?”

  Brett saw the look of terror flash across JT’s face before he saw the pretty woman hovering over the table. She was hard to miss, or at least certain very voluptuous parts of her were.

  “Oh… thanks. But I don’t, um, dance.”

  She bent farther, and Brett had to avert his gaze from the cleavage inches from his face. She pointed a finger at JT, her eyes roving him from tip to tail. “Big, strapping boy like you? Of course you do. I’m halfway to feeling no pain, so play your cards right and—”

  “Brett and I were—”

  “Ordering another beer,” Brett piped in. “And here it comes now. You go ahead, Darlin’. Can’t leave a pretty lady hanging. That’s not the cowboy gentlemanly way.”

  “Brett,” JT hissed. “Not helping.” He squeaked when the woman yanked him from his chair. She was damn near a head shorter but made it look easy as pie to manhandle JT. Brett waggled his fingers and didn’t bother holding back his amusement.

  The look JT shot him told Brett he was in big trouble later, but for now, he’d just enjoy the show. It wasn’t much of a country song that was playing, and the collective dance floor wasn’t doing much more than wiggling, so he suspected JT would do just fine. Until he wasn’t….

  The song changed, something old-school and twangy. Brett watched JT bend to talk to the young lady, and then they headed in his direction. No fucking way.

  Chapter 11

  BRETT’S GLARE caught JT’s eye even before they approached the table, but being the Southern gentleman that he was, he smoothed it to a charming grin in the blink of an eye.

  “The youngster says you’ll sweep me off my feet with your technique.” The woman wobbled a little, and JT palmed her elbow to keep her steady. “Come on, then. Bring me to ecstasy, Mr. Hatman or whoever you’re supposed to be.”

  “I’m really not in the mood—”

  “That’s not very gentlemanly, Brett.” JT unsuccessfully hid his smugness behind the beer bottle he’d snatched from Brett’s hand. Two can play at that game, cowboy, he thought to himself. “I believe you Texans would call it spinning the lady on the floor.”

  “Not even close,” Brett said with a sneer. But he slowly lifted off his chair, grabbed his beer back, and chugged it in one go. He slid past JT, too close for comfort—JT’s comfort since Brett managed to squeeze his junk on the way past. “Nice to meet you, young lady. Shall we?” Brett enacted a slight bow, one hand holding on to his hat, as he gallantly offered the woman his arm. She wrapped her hand around it with a giggle, of course, and they left JT in their proverbial dust.

  Feeling quite pleased with himself, JT sank into the nearest chair and tugged his hat lower on his forehead. The song was way too twangy for him, and he was certain it required a two-step, which, in theory he knew but in reality no fucking way. He was still chuckling under his breath when his attention was drawn to the performance on the dance floor.

  It was like seeing Moses part the Red Sea—if the body of water was comprised of costumed cowboys and cowgirls. The crowded space had suddenly become a party of one as JT watched in wonderment while Brett moved their new friend around the floor. His movements were smooth and light, none of the clomping and ass-kicking steps JT expected from country dancing. Brett was regal and gorgeous in his velvet top hat and tight, worn blue jeans, and the contrast between redneck and royalty just made him more enticing to watch. JT couldn’t stop looking.

  The expression on Brett’s face was calm and polite, pleasant and in charge, and JT was a little jealous of the woman he was holding. No, he was a lot jealous because they made such a beautiful couple. They moved as one, dipping here and there as the other dancers gave them a wide berth and paid more attention to them than their own steps. The lady in Brett’s arms was flushed, pressed tight to Brett’s chest, despite his obvious attempts to unlatch her. He danced her about with a charming smile, one hand in hers and the other loose on her hip. His attempts at keeping her at bay were mostly unsuccessful. That amused JT.

  He was actually relieved when the song ended and Brett led the dark-haired vixen off the dance floor. She was protesting none too quietly and clutching Brett’s forearm like a lifeline. She asserted herself even as Brett was so politely trying to slip away. JT immediately noticed the lipstick imprint on Brett’s cheek, just above his stubbly jawline, and more than likely the cause of the flush bathing his neck.

  “She’s a wild one,” Brett said once he’d reclaimed his seat. “I’ll ask Bubba to keep an eye out for her when we go. Don’t seem like she’s here with anyone, and I don’t think she should drive home.”

  JT reached across the expanse of table, touching a fingertip to Brett’s chin. “You’ve got a little something….”

  “Oh shit. I bobbed when I should have weaved. Feisty little filly, ain’t she?”

  “I think she’s dressed as Catwoman, actually.”

  “Don’t wanna get under those claws, huh?”

  “You seemed to handle her just fine.” JT cocked his head in appreciation. “You’re really smooth on the dance floor. Center of attention as usual.”

  “Hell, kid. That used to be part of the production when it came to Brett Blakk. Can’t say I like being the center of attention, but I never minded the dancing part, just when things got a little too handsy.”

  The realization that this was a part of Brett’s past that he actually missed hit JT like a hammer to the gut. “I never knew you liked it. You should totally ask someone else to dance. We’ve got the whole night.”

  Brett appeared to consider it for a minute, his bottom lip sucked deliciously between his teeth. “Maybe I will,” he said before lurching from his chair so fast he made the table wobble and almost tip.

  “Cool.” JT sipped from his new bottle, hoping his voice was calmer on the outside than he heard and felt on the inside. He didn’t want Brett to dance with anyone else. Hell no. But if it made his cowboy happy, he could withstand the green cloud around his heart. Brett didn’t leave the table though, instead loomed over JT and peered down at him. “You need my permission or something? Mr. Brett Taylor, I give you permission to dance with some pretty girl. Please share your dancing prowess with the world. How’s that?” He grinned up at Brett, suffocating an urge to drag him down for a kiss.

  “Sounds good except the girl part.” Brett turned his back for barely a handful of heartbeats. His expression was sheepish when he twisted to look at JT again. “Excuse me, young fella. I hate to be too forward, but I think you’re very pretty. May I have this dance?”

  “No.” The reaction was automatic and too loud, but Brett didn’t even flinch.

  “Now don’t be like that. I’ve got permission from my man and everything.”

  “Not funny, Brett. I don’t dance, especially not to….” JT motioned to the speakers. “Whatever this is.”

  “Two-step. And I even know the guys doing the singing. Come on, Darlin’. I promise it’ll be pain free.”

  “Maybe for you. Well, not even for you when I stomp all over your feet.” Brett knew he had the coordination of Whizzy after a few drinks, even before alcohol was added to the mix.

  “I won’t even notice when you’re in my arms. I’ll make it real nice for you.”

  “That’s dirty pool, cowboy. You can’t get all sweet like that. No fair.”

  “I’m just asking for one turn around the dance floor because I love you.”

  “Jesus, you did it again.” JT groaned, but he knew when he’d lost the battle. Part of him wanted to slink off into the corner so no one would ever ask him to dance again, but the other part—that part wanted to be held in Brett’s arms and surrounded by all these people who looked at Brett with such admiration. JT wanted to be included in those special moments. He wanted a special moment of his own.

  So he gave in but only after Brett utilized his biggest weapon: those icy blue eyes that JT could never say no to. “One dance?”

  B
rett held up both hands in mock surrender. “Swear on my life, sweetheart.”

  JT sighed, slugging back the last of his liquid courage. “You should probably give me some pointers first.” He stood up, facing Brett, surprised when he was granted a sweet kiss to his cheek for his efforts.

  “Follow along. That’s all you have to do. I’ll go slow and easy.” Brett took JT’s hand, tangling their fingers together as he guided him to the dance floor. He looked behind his shoulder. “Unless you want to lead? I’m all right with that too.”

  JT held back a hysterical cackle. “That’s not even an option.”

  The song had changed again by the time they reached the throng of people. Brett leaned in to whisper, “We’ll stay on the edge. Nice and slow, nothing to worry about. I’ve been wanting to dance with you forever, Darlin’.”

  The man played dirty, dirty pool, and JT fell right into the water with him. It started out awkward, more uncomfortable than even JT imagined as couples swayed and flowed around them. Maybe it was the height difference or the fact JT kept trying to watch Brett’s feet instead of going with his instructions.

  Quick. Quick. Slow. Slow. 1. 2. 3. 4.

  The hand on his hip was firm, and the few times the brims of their hats collided, they chuckled as one, but Brett wasn’t hindered by that or the way JT seemed to stumble and clutch at him. He was completely out of his element, and he knew it showed.

  Quick. Quick. Slow. Slow. 1. 2. 3. 4.

  But Brett—Brett was Brett: patient, assuring, gentle, even charming the pants off JT while he wanted to disappear into the hardwood. He sighed in relief when the next tune started up, not waiting for Brett to let him go but disengaging himself nonetheless. Brett held on though. He held JT against his hard body, his thighs pressed against JT’s, his gaze so loving and hopeful that JT had no choice but to give in… again.

  Quick. Quick. Slow. Slow. 1. 2. 3. 4.

  The second round was smoother, not quite as catastrophic as JT had expected.

  “See, now? You’re dancing up a storm.” Brett spoke too soon when JT’s mile-long legs zigged when they should have zagged and he clomped hard on Brett’s left foot. “Mercy, kid. I don’t think I realized just how big your damn feet are—”

  JT hissed through clenched teeth. “Shut up. This was your brainy idea.”

  “And you’re clumsy as a newborn colt.”

  “That’s it.” JT knew it was merely Brett’s way of teasing, of putting him at ease in that sweet way he had, but he stopped midstep, making Brett stumble over him. He regained his footing quickly, though. “No more dancing. My feet don’t work, these chaps are making me sweat, and I can’t balance this stupid hat when I’m looking down at your feet all the time.” Brett kept his right hand hostage, though, tucking it to his chest between them and flashing an unapologetic smirk.

  “You’re doing great. First time and all. No shame in a little clumsiness. You’re adorable.”

  “Then let’s be adorable somewhere else.”

  Brett dipped his head but continued moving JT around the floor. JT let him, but only because Brett kept looking at him that way. “You telling me you don’t like anything about this?” he asked, intimate and low.

  JT hesitated. “No. I’m not… I like dancing with you. But I don’t like the dancing, and I’m just not good at it. There are so many other people who’d like to be in my place, Brett. You and Catwoman were perfection.”

  “Know what I was thinking the whole time I was up here with her?”

  “That her gigantic boobs felt really soft against your chest?”

  Brett cackled but kept dancing without a hitch. “I can tell you this much. Those were not the girls that lady was born with. Nothing soft about them, and no, I definitely didn’t enjoy being rubbed up on like some scratching post.”

  “That’s funny. Catwoman. Scratching post.”

  “I’m a barrel of laughs, sweetheart.” Brett tilted his head to brush his nose up against JT’s. And still they danced. “I was thinking how much I wanted to dance with you instead.”

  “Well, I guess you accomplished that.”

  “I rightly did.”

  “But at the expense of your feet and new shoe covers.”

  “When did you become such a negative Nelly? Have you even noticed what’s happening?”

  JT snuck a peek around him, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. No one was staring at him and Brett. No one was giving them dirty looks, and he hadn’t fallen on his ass as he feared. JT was immensely glad for all that. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said when he looked back at his partner.

  “You’re dancing, sweetheart. No counting or stumbling. Notice that?”

  “I am?” Holy hell! Brett was right.

  “Smooth as Ginger Rogers.” JT snorted and bumped their hats together. “But seriously,” Brett said, tucking JT closer by his hip. “You stopped thinking about how much you suck and Abracadabra, instinct kicked in and you’re amazing.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far.” But he was dancing. Of course, once he realized it, he stumbled and stepped on Brett’s toes again.

  Luckily, that was the same moment when the song switched. JT had done his duty and he’d had his fill of tramping after Brett on the dance floor. But Brett didn’t let go. “Time’s up,” JT said, using his extra height to drag Brett to the side of the dance floor. “I did good, right?”

  “Yep. Amazing.” Mischief sparked Brett’s blue eyes, and JT prepared himself for whatever misguided idea he had next. “But… I’d still like to dance with you.”

  JT huffed a disgruntled laugh. “No way.” He managed to free his hand, but Brett tightened his hold on JT’s hip. “Come on, Brett. Can’t we practice at home before I humiliate myself even more?”

  “’Course. I just thought we could shuffle around like we were in middle school for a while.”

  “I didn’t go to many dances in middle school. Um… none, actually.”

  Brett leaned in to kiss him, making a sad noise with his mouth when he pulled away. “That’s terrible. Worst experiences of my educational years were at those dances. Hard to forget such great memories.”

  That made JT chuckle aloud. He realized they were still standing at a dead stop on the edge of the dance floor while couples whirled past them. “We should probably—” The sexy pout on Brett’s bottom lip made JT shut the hell up. “Cheating again,” he said with no real intent behind the words. He sighed as if the world were sitting on his shoulders. “Fine. Embarrass me some more. But expect revenge when I get you home.”

  “I like the sound of that, but I swear on Whiz’s little wiggly behind that this will be better.” Brett tapped the brim of JT’s hat. “I think one of us will need to get rid of the hat though. And by one of us I mean you because I figure I have some nasty hat-hair going on under this green monstrosity.”

  “How can I be a cowboy if I’m hatless?”

  “Have you seen yourself in those chaps, kid?” A hand crept stealthily from JT’s hip to his ass. “I just wanna hold you close, and that hat ain’t gonna allow it.”

  “Hat-head goes both ways.”

  “Ah, shit. You just have to make me work for it, don’t you?” Brett tugged JT’s hand and led him back to the table where they’d shucked their coats. In two seconds flat, both their hats were set on the table and Brett was grumbling like the actual Mad Hatter. JT plucked a hair elastic from the pocket of his too-fucking-restricting jeans. He was never letting Millie go shopping with him again.

  “Thank you, sweetheart,” Brett said while he gathered his hair into a tail at the back of his neck. “How’s it look now?”

  “Bedheaded and sexy.”

  “Just what I was going for. So… um, since we’re off the floor, you can reconsider. It’s all right. Really.”

  JT believed Brett was being truthful, but compromise wasn’t necessarily what he really wanted. “Show me what to do. This song isn’t so bad.”

  “One of my favorites.”

&n
bsp; Brett took him to the dance floor again, fingers twisted tightly together. He guided JT’s hands to his hips, then wound his arms around JT’s neck. When he crooned gravelly in JT’s ear, JT clung to him.

  “I could pretend and you won’t know that I was lying. ’Cause I can’t stop loving you.”

  A different kind of sigh slipped between JT’s lips when Brett pulled him closer and kissed his shoulder. This kind of dancing he could totally get into—his own two left feet barely having to leave the floor, his body swaying in time to Brett’s, who held him tight in his arms. He had no idea who was singing, but he was positive Brett did it better. His sultry voice took JT to the happiest place he’d ever known—inside Brett’s heart.

  JT slid a hand up Brett’s velvety soft vest, found the warm skin under his ponytail, and tipped Brett’s face up to meet his. “This okay?” he asked softly, surprised at the flood of emotion in his voice. Brett nodded, gorgeous smile wide before he moved in for a kiss. They didn’t make out in the middle of the bar, but sneaking a few more kisses before they snuck from the dance floor and out to the truck was perfectly acceptable.

  JT held tight to Brett’s hand all the way back to the ranch, encouraging his cowboy to sing his own songs. He did, and it was perfect and so much more. When they made love, it was hot, passionate, but slow and drawn-out until neither of them could stand it anymore. He’d started the day scared that Brett would hate his big, weird idea of dressing up, but he couldn’t remember a more perfect day. For now, at least.

  He fell asleep with love in his heart, stars in his eyes, and the man he wanted to spend the rest of his life with snoring lightly into his neck and spooning him from behind.

  Best Halloween ever.

  DECEMBER

  Chapter 12

  BRETT TOOK the stairs two at a time with Whiz nipping closely at his heels the whole way up. The pup was excited, or more to the point, just plain excitable, and Brett took care to not trip over the darn mutt and fall headfirst back down the stairs. That would definitely put a kink to the start of the day.