It wasn’t long before Chelsea and several others, including Jordan, joined them. Apparently Vivian was dancing with someone else. And, hoping to keep Jordan from bolting like she expected he might—probably to dance with Vivian again—Dillon attempted to engage him in conversation by telling him about her towing lessons with Grandpa and how she was now “camping” in the aspens by the irrigation pond. “It’s really pretty there.”
“So you think you can hitch and pull your own trailer now?” Jordan asked with a skeptical expression.
“Sure,” she said with more confidence than she really felt. “Grandpa taught me all the steps and I even wrote them down just in case.”
“Impressive.”
“Hey, that’s one of my favorite songs.” She grabbed Jordan’s hand. “How about it?”
He nodded. “Sure.”
Before Brandon could protest, they hurried out to the dance floor again. “I really like this song too,” Jordan said as they began to dance.
“So when do they start the fireworks?” Dillon asked him. “It’s pretty dark now.”
He checked his watch. “Should be anytime now.”
“Oh, good.”
“I know a good spot to watch from,” he said. “If you want, we could get over there and get a spot before the fireworks start.”
“Sure.” She nodded.
As he led her through a back exit from the tennis court, she asked if they still used the Preston Ranch to shoot the fireworks from.
“Yep. But now they keep a bunch of fire trucks nearby. I guess they had a grass fire that nearly got to the trees a few years ago.”
“I always wondered if that could happen.” They were at the edge of town now, where the ranch was in open view.
“I parked my pickup here so I could get a good seat.” He opened the tailgate, helping her to get into it. “And I just happened to bring a spare camp chair with me.” He unfolded two chairs. “As well as some popcorn and sodas.”
“Wow.” She sat down. “I’m impressed. It’s almost like you were expecting company.”
“Maybe hoping.” And then, just like clockwork, the amplified sound of the national anthem began to boom from the park area, and then the first of the fireworks were shot off.
As they sat there, watching and commenting over the bright and colorful display, Dillon wondered if she’d ever experienced such a perfectly romantic evening. But she also wondered, had Jordan planned it to be like this—specifically with her? Or did she just happen to be at the right place at the right time? What if he’d been dancing with Vivian right before the fireworks show? Would she be sitting here now?
When the fireworks ended, Jordan suggested they return to the dance. “Chelsea and Brandon must be wondering about your whereabouts.”
“I don’t know about Chelsea, but Brandon probably is.”
“I was surprised to see him still here today.”
“I thought he’d have gone home by now too,” she admitted as they walked down Main Street.
“He appears to like our little town.”
“Yes. But not enough to permanently locate here. I’m sure of that.”
“Seemed like he enjoyed McLaughlin’s . . .”
Dillon weighed his words, surprised he’d mention it again. Was he really bothered by this? Or was she just hoping?
“Can I ask you something, Dillon?” He paused beneath a streetlamp.
“Of course. Anything.” She looked up at him.
“Are you sure you’re really finished with that relationship? You act a little uncertain to me.”
“I’m not uncertain,” she insisted. “It’s just that Brandon is so persistent.”
“Some women enjoy being pursued like that.” He studied her.
“The truth is I once wanted him to pursue me like that,” she confessed.
“And now?”
“Now it’s just frustrating.” She sighed. “I can’t wait for him to go home Friday.”
“You’re sure he’s leaving?”
“His flight is booked.”
Jordan smiled. “Well, sorry to be so nosy . . . but I’ve been wondering.” He started to walk again. “And you have to admit, from my perspective, it looks like you guys are on-again, off-again.”
“I can see how it might look like that. But, believe me, I’ve made myself clear to Brandon.” They reentered the park where the music was playing loudly and the crowd was lively.
“Looks like the older generation and kids have cleared out,” Dillon observed as they went back to the table they’d been occupying earlier. Although she was hoping he’d invite her to dance, they sat down and for a bit no one said anything. She followed Jordan’s gaze out to the dance floor and, unless it was her imagination, his eyes were fixed on Vivian. She was dancing with a guy Dillon didn’t recognize. And then Brandon and Chelsea came over to join them.
“Whew . . . I’m ready for a break,” Chelsea announced as she sat down.
“Not me.” Brandon reached for Dillon’s hand. “And I believe you owe me a dance or two. Remember our agreement?”
“Agreement?” But he was pulling her to her feet and tugging her out to the dance floor. “What agreement?” She paused on the sidelines.
“You and Chelsea were supposed to take turns dancing with me. But I’ve only been dancing with Chelsea—where were you anyway?” He scowled in Jordan’s direction.
“Just watching the fireworks from a better location.”
“With Jordan?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“Come on.” He wrapped an arm around her, clasping her hand. “Let’s dance.”
Not wanting to make a scene, she let him lead her to the floor. Fortunately the music was too loud and lively for conversation, but she was determined to excuse herself when the song ended.
She was just trying to peel herself away from Brandon when she noticed that Jordan was on the dance floor—with Vivian again. And when the next song started, feeling disappointed, she turned to Brandon. “Another?”
He grinned. “You bet.”
Okay, she knew she was being juvenile, but it was like she couldn’t help herself—she pretended to be having a good time with Brandon, smiling and dancing with enthusiasm. And seeing that Jordan was still dancing with Vivian—for the last song of the evening—Dillon smiled at Brandon . . . and again they were dancing. This time to a slower number.
“Thanks for giving me the last dance,” Brandon said above the music. “I really appreciate it, Dillon.”
She immediately recognized that look in his eyes . . . hopefulness and expectations. What had she done? As the song was ending, Brandon moved them to the sidelines of the dancers, and then, pulling her close—and holding her tight—he landed her with a kiss. A rather long and passionate kiss. And although it almost stirred some of the old feelings she used to have for him, she knew it was wrong. And she was aggravated. She pulled away as the music stopped. “Why did you do that?”
“Because I love you, Dillon.”
More lights were coming on now and Dillon suddenly felt like everyone was looking at them, although most people were making their way out. “We need to talk,” she said firmly and, seeing the back exit that Jordan had taken her through earlier, she led Brandon that way. Outside of the tennis court and away from curious onlookers, she told Brandon what she’d essentially told him over and over. “You’re a good guy, Brandon, but you’re not the guy for me. I want you to accept this. Once and for all.” She looked into his eyes. “Can you, please, do that?”