had abandoned the group table in favor of the dance floor, pressing up close to each other.
Mark shook his head as he paid for the drinks. He hoped they knew what they were doing. The ties between the two families ran deep. A one-night stand could lead to hurt feelings and broken friendships. If not tomorrow, then when Gabe returned to his team. But maybe they’d found a way to avoid all that emotional crap and just have a good time. Hell, maybe he should ask for a road map.
AMY STARED AT the dance floor. She should be out there. Dancing. Laughing. Flirting. It didn’t matter if half the men in the bar looked at her and thought, There goes Darren’s widow. That wasn’t how she saw herself. Not anymore. And it was time to do something about it. Before her body’s reaction to a pretend ankle exam ruined her relationship with one of her closest and oldest friends.
Mark had touched her in a crowded bar, and she’d been tempted to press her bare foot against his thigh. The moment had felt intimate and wild. But she suspected that was only partly due to the way his hands had moved over her skin—and partly due to their shared secret. She kept so many locked away that having a partner in this ruse sent misguided signals to parts of her body she’d ignored for a year and a half.
She stole a look at Mark, standing at the bar. He was like a guard dog, keeping watch over her as he waited for her wine. He offered so much more than a shared confidence, she realized. If she stumbled, Mark would catch her. Always. He was her safety net, her friend, and damn it, she couldn’t stop thinking about the look in his eyes when he’d seen her in her underwear. Hunger?
“Hey, Ames.” T.J. sat down in the chair next to hers, holding a beer bottle in one hand. “If you need crutches, I think we have some at the house from when Luke busted his knee. I could head back and pick them up for you.”
Amy smiled, patting his arm. “Thanks, but that won’t be necessary. I’ll be back on my feet soon.”
“I can help with the dogs in the morning,” T.J. added.
“I’m going to take you up on that offer, but not because I’m injured,” she said, welcoming the distraction from her wayward thoughts of Mark. “I need your advice on how to introduce new scents to the puppies. I was thinking about using rags soaked in the different chemicals they will be expected to detect.”
“That’s a good plan,” T.J. said, leaning forward in his chair, wrapping both hands around his beer bottle. “The most important thing is to keep the materials free and clear of your scent. Wear rubber gloves when you’re handling the rags.”
Mark returned and handed her a wineglass. She sipped slowly, trying to take mental notes as T.J. talked. But with Mark sitting close by, her focus splintered. She drew a deep breath, inhaling his familiar masculine smell. Sandalwood, possibly from his aftershave. If she leaned closer, pressing her nose, maybe her lips, to his jaw, tracing the contours as she licked, kissed and breathed him in, then she’d know for certain.
Amy shifted in her chair, nodding to T.J., though she hadn’t heard what he’d said. Her imagination was spiraling out of control. A fake ankle exam didn’t lead to kisses. But there was something about the way he’d touched her—
“Mark!” The loud, shrill call silenced Amy’s internal monologue. She watched as Molly McAdams strutted across the bar, doing her best imitation of a runway walk in her high heels and fitted skirt.
“You’re home!” Molly added.
With the faintest hint of a smile, Mark rose from his chair, allowing Molly to wrap her arms around him, pressing her breasts against his chest.
“Hey there, Molly,” he said.
Molly drew back just enough to look up at Mark’s face as she swept her long, straight black hair over her shoulder with one hand. The fingers on her right hand held tight to Mark’s biceps.
Amy frowned. She had nothing against Molly. They’d never been friends, but Amy always said hello in the grocery store. Still, did Molly have to stand so close to Mark?
“How about a dance?” Molly flashed a wide smile.
“No, thanks.” He glanced down at her. “Promised I’d keep Amy company.”
Molly laughed. “I think T.J. is up for the task.”
“Maybe. But I’m still recovering from the long trip home and need to save my energy to help her out tomorrow.” Mark rocked back on his heels, trying to extricate himself from Molly’s arms.
“A rain check, then.” Molly arched slightly, offering Mark a peek down the front of her low-cut fitted tank. “Don’t be a stranger, Mark. I’m still living on the family farm. And you don’t have to worry about Daddy. We moved him to an assisted-living condo last year and took away his guns. He’s at the retirement community, where I’ve been working for the past few years as the programming director.”
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