Free Night Moves by Thea Devine

know.”
    â€œAnd patience.”
    â€œI know...but he’s taking me home. Usually he stays and I go home alone. Don’t you think that’s meaningful?”
    â€œI think you confused him tonight. At least two men
that I saw were very attentive to you, and I’m guessing that doesn’t always happen.”
    â€œOh, it happens. He just never notices.”
    â€œYou should go home with him then. I’ll get someone to take me home.”
    â€œOkay. Sometime this week I want to go shopping.”
    â€œIt’s a date.”
    Jeannie squeezed her hand and flew across the dance floor as the band started warming up again. Eddie waited for her by the door. He entwined his arm with hers as they exited, and Carrie watched skeptically.
    It was a hard thing to watch, Jeannie’s pain, then her sudden hope. Maybe she’d done her a disservice. All the sexy-lady business was nothing more than a bandage over long-festering wounds that Carrie knew nothing about. Didn’t want to know anything about. She wasn’t going to be here long enough to get involved. Eventually, all she could do for Jeannie was leave her behind, and everything else. Everyone else.
    â€œSo Jeannie’s gone home.” Truck handed her a paper cup of lemonade. “And I take it you’re stranded.”
    Carrie sipped. “Stranded? I don’t know if I’d put it that strongly. I bet I could find someone to take me home.”
    â€œI dare you to let me.”
    â€œI’m not scared of you, Truck.”
    â€œSure you are, but that’s okay. A kiss isn’t a commitment either.”
    â€œBut you’ll do it again, then where will I be?”
    â€œSoundly and thoroughly kissed, and what’s so bad about that?”
    Carrie didn’t like where the conversation was going. “Don’t you have a date with a fiddle?” she said.

    â€œNope. I’m going to stay right here and burn. Come on, Carrie. You’re making more of this than it is.”
    No, I’m not. And if I were smart, I would not walk one foot out the door with him.
    I’m not smart. And uplift works.
    Tom rescued her. “How about it, Carrie?”
    She took his hand. “I’d love to.”
    It was so much easier to follow Tom. He held her politely, nicely, and his conversation was easy and humorous. He was in fact a very nice man, young, enthusiastic and a great advocate for the quality of life that had been the draw that brought him to Paradise from Chicago.
    He wondered hopefully if she had a pet.
    â€œThere are some outdoor cats hanging around, so I can’t really promise you any business,” Carrie said regretfully. “Nor am I sure how long I’ll be staying in town.”
    â€œYou’ll stay,” Tom predicted. “You’ll see. Thanks, Carrie,” he said as he brought her back to Truck.
    â€œThank you,” she said warmly. He was halfway across the floor when it occurred to her that he probably would have been very happy to give her a lift home.
    â€œHe would’ve,” Truck said, reading her mind as he sidled up to her. “But he’s no fun.”
    He swung her into the next dance, another slow dance, before she could protest. And then it was too late to push away, and by that time Carrie didn’t want to, anyway.
    Uplift was dangerous. Men could detect uplift a a mile away. She would bet Truck knew exactly what she was wearing under her thin silk shirt. And she was too aware of the softness of her body against the hardness of his as she moved against him.
    This was dangerous. This was stupid. Why was her
body warring with her common sense? Why was her body winning?
    She pulled away. “Truck...”
    He pulled her back firmly. “Carrie,” he mimicked her tone. “Let’s just do one dance at a time.”
    â€œYou don’t get to choreograph everything,” Carrie muttered.
    â€œNo, but I get to lead.”
    She