“Fine. Let’s go.”
“Interesting. Here I thought you were about to put up a fight.”
“Shut up,” I sneered, grabbing his wrist, pulling him hurriedly to the dance floor.
He smiled without argument, spinning me under his arm before pulling me tight to his body and expertly guiding me around the floor. I peeked over his shoulder, finding Billy now in line at the bar with the bubbly brunette. He was standing directly behind the man I’d been waiting next to.
“You want to tell me what that was about?”
“Nope.”
“Come on now, city. I thought we were friends.”
“First, no. We are not. Second, stop calling me city. My name is Hannah,” I said my name slowly, annunciating it clearly just to make sure it got through his thick head.
“Ouch. If I didn’t know you better, city. I’d think you meant that.”
“You don’t know me. And I did mean it.”
“Nah. We’re definitely friends. But if you’d prefer to take our friendship up a notch, I’m always willing to be friends with benefits.”
“You’re a child.”
He leaned in, pulling me closer, whispering in my ear, “I’m all man, sweetheart, and I’m more than happy to prove it to you.”
I pressed my hand against his shoulder, forcing him to take a small step back. “Wes Monroe, do you have a crush on me?” I gave him a taunting smile, exaggerating my feigned surprise. “Is that what all this juvenile teasing is about? You never upped your game from playground flirting. Should I be worried about you pulling my ponytail at recess?”
His head fell back as he released a loud laugh that bellowed through the white reception tent that had been set up near the main house of the Monroe farm. His smile was gorgeous, his laugh unfortunately charming. And for some reason, our banter suddenly elicited my own laughter. Strangely, it felt good, and relieved some of the tension I’d felt at seeing Billy—with another woman.
“I can’t say I’ve ever been a hair puller. But for you, city, I’d make an exception if you’re into that.” With that, he spun me out of his arms, twisting and turning us as I followed his lead.
When the fronts of our bodies reconnected, he tugged me closer to him to whisper in my ear once again, “You ready to give me the story, yet?”
“And what story would that be?” I asked, pulling back a fraction.
“The one about you and Miller.”
“Not sure what you’re talking about.” I shrugged, giving him zero indication I had any clue.
He slowly shook his head with amusement. “Hannah, Hannah, Hannah. Not a soul in Billingsley would buy the manure you’re selling.”
“You called me Hannah!”
“Don’t change the subject.”
The music ended and I shifted, trying to take a step back out of his arms.
“Oh, no you don’t.” He shook his head, holding me tight, pulling me back in place. “Not unless you’re ready for Miller to take my spot. He’s been waiting all night for his moment.”
“What are you talking about?” I turned to look behind me and sure enough, Billy’s eyes were on me, glaring at me. I spun my head back to Wes, my heart rate picking up a notch. “He looks like he wants to murder me, not dance with me,” I muttered, wanting to bury my face in Wes’s dress shirt, but refusing to look as mortified as I felt inside.
“Ha. Not even close. Trust me. That particular look”—he nodded his head toward Billy as we continued to dance—"is meant for me. The look he’s been giving you since the moment you stepped down that aisle is the look of a man with a serious hard-on for you.”
“Wow. You sure have a way with words, Wes. I see now why all the ladies are swooning at your feet.”
“Noticed, did ya? Don’t tell me you’re jealous, city?”
“Not the slightest bit.”
He chuckled.
“But you obviously noticed another man watching me.”
“It’s hard not to, sweetheart. I don’t think there is a man in here who hasn’t gotten the vibe Miller is laying claim to you.”
I rolled my eyes. “I doubt that. Besides he has a date. And if he’s watching me, it’s probably to make sure I’m keeping a safe distance from him.”
“So, there is a story.”
“I didn’t say that.”
He smirked. “All right. If that’s how you want to play it.” He spun me quickly without warning, releasing my hand so I smacked into an innocent bystander.
I grunted, gripping onto the strong back I’d landed against as I righted myself. “I’m so sorr—”
The man rotated to face me, and I ripped my hands from his body, choking on my words. Shit.
“Hannah?” His lips lifted with a hesitant smile.
“Billy,” I responded, shoulders back, head held high, chest out. It was my confident stance. One I’d learned to master even when I felt anything but.
His gaze swept over me so quickly that if you blinked you’d miss it, the corners of his mouth flattening into a thin line.
We remained in an awkward stare down, until Wes’s arm landed across my shoulders. “My bad, Miller. Teaching my girl here how to dance. Apparently, she has two left feet.” He nuzzled his face into my neck like it was an everyday occurrence.
My elbow jerked to the right, landing in Wes’s ribs as my cheeks flushed. To his credit, he barely flinched, muffling his groan in my hair as he played it off. “Mmm…damn, baby, you smell good.”
My eyes remained locked on Billy’s stoic expression as he watched the whole exchange. Wes lifted his head to face Billy once again.
“Yeah… No problem, man.” Billy gave us a stiff nod before turning and walking away without another word or glance in my direction.
“Huh,” Wes said, pulling me back into his tall frame before I could argue.
I draped my arms over his shoulders, locking my hands behind his neck as our feet fell into rhythm with the slow tempo of the new song. “What?”
He shrugged. “Just figured we’d get a little more reaction out of him.”
I took a page from Grams’s book, smacking him upside the head.
“Shit!” He jerked his head back. “What the hell was that for?”
“You did that on purpose.”
“Of course I did. You should be thanking me, not smacking me on the back of the head.”
“Why would I thank you?”
“Because I just helped you as your self-appointed wingman. When you’re getting laid tonight, I expect an apology with that thank you.”
I minutely shook my head before flicking my gaze upward asking God for patience. I’m pretty sure murdering the best man at a wedding, the brother of the groom, would be frowned upon. “Let me make myself perfectly clear here: I do not need your help in getting laid. Especially not by Billy Miller.”
His brows shot to his forehead like a boy discovering a new use for his penis. “Damn, city. So, the rumors are true. You and Miller did the dirty tango already.”
“The wha—you know what, never mind.” I shook my head. “I don’t want to know. What I’ve done or haven’t done with Billy is none of your damn business.”