Sandpiper Cove by Irene Hannon

Author:Irene Hannon [Hannon, Irene]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2017-04-03T18:00:00+00:00

13

By eleven thirty, they had the dance floor to themselves except for one other dallying couple. Even the bride and groom had departed.

But now the party was over.

As the final song wound down . . . as Lexie rested her forehead against the curve of Adam’s neck . . . as the music swirled around them like an insulating force field keeping the world at bay . . . she sighed. If only this night could go on forever.

“I think we shut the place down.” Adam’s soft words were a whisper of warmth against her ear.

“Mmm.” She closed her eyes, sucking every last drop of pleasure from this night that had started out disappointing and ended up ranking as one of the most memorable of her life.

He didn’t say anything else, just pressed her closer during the wistful, waning notes of the final song. Beneath her ear, his heart beat steady and strong. The woodsy scent of his aftershave teased her nose. Against her temple, the beginning bristle of a five o’clock shadow on his newly shaven chin nuzzled her skin.

For this one moment in time, the world was perfect—and uncomplicated.

But all too soon it ended.

He held her for half a dozen extra beats after the music faded away . . . then eased back an inch or two. Just far enough for her hand to slide from his shoulder to his impressive biceps. The man might be lean, but his muscles were rock hard—a fact that had become crystal clear during the dances she’d spent in his arms.

Fingers entwined with hers, he remained where he was while the band began to put away instruments and music books. As if he too hated for this magical night to end.

“I guess we need to leave.” She had to force out the words.

“I guess we do.” His throat worked. “I had a great time tonight. Maybe the best time of my life.”

The raw honesty in his hoarse voice and the intensity in his dark brown eyes short-circuited her lungs.

“Me too.”

The lights blinked, and one corner of his mouth twitched. “A not-so-subtle hint for us to leave.”

“Let me get my purse and shawl.”

He followed her to her table, draping the shawl over her shoulders when she fumbled her own attempt while juggling her purse.

“Thanks.”

“Happy to help—though I hate to cover up that dress. You look ama . . .” He cleared his throat. “It’s beautiful.”

A warm rush of pleasure surged through her. “My mom convinced me to buy it.”

“Thank her for me.” The lights blinked again, and he took her arm. “We better go or we’ll be stumbling around in the dark.”

He guided her out of the tent and across the lawn, toward the street. Overhead, the full moon played hide-and-seek with the clouds. In the distance, a buoy bell gave a sonorous bong. Tendrils of fog swirled through the air.

It was a typical night in Hope Harbor.

Yet the electrified air around them made it feel anything but typical.

And for a woman whose last brush with romance had been more than five years ago, it was heady stuff.

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