Free Two in Winter by Vanessa North Page A

given up back in the nineties, and he found himself returning the gesture, much to his chagrin. He started to skirt around the crowd of people, smiling back apologetically at the women who tried to catch his eye. He ordered a beer and turned his back to the bar so he could survey the train wreck in front of him.
    “You look like you’re at your own funeral, man.” Skip leaned in to shout over the pounding bass.
    “Sorry, Skip. Not my first choice of Friday night activity.”
    “Yeah well, watching old episodes of Dr. Who with the dog isn’t a good way to meet women.”
    “I don’t want to meet women.” Eric frowned into his beer. “I was married. I’m done with that.”
    “Dude. She left over a year ago. The divorce has been final for six months. She split town. It’s time to move on.”
    “I’ll move on when I’m ready.” Truth be told, he liked his routine. As much as he sometimes missed Lesley, he was comfortable in his little house with his oversized dog. Lucky was a mastiff mix he and Lesley had gotten from a rescue a few years before the divorce. At least she had left him the dog. He grunted.
    “Hey, redhead alert!” Skip gestured at a trio of women dancing nearby. Skip had a thing for red-haired women. It probably didn’t hurt that this redhead was boasting a killer body and a very short skirt. “C’mon, let’s go, wingman.” Skip grinned as he started moving toward the women.
    Following, Eric tried to catch a glimpse of the other women in the group. One was dark-haired and sort of angry looking. The other was blonde. He couldn’t see her face, she was wearing some silly hat that blocked his view, but her hair fell straight halfway down her back like a curtain of gold and it swayed against her movement as she danced.
    Skip was already there, leaning in toward the redhead and saying something close to her ear. She laughed and twirled around, putting an arm around his shoulders as he pulled her closer with an arm around her waist. The man was smooth, Eric had to give him that. Angry-dark-haired girl glared at Skip and stalked over to the bar, leaving Eric to approach the blonde in the silly hat.
    “Hey there.” He leaned in close enough to let her know he was behind her. Spinning around, she grinned at him, and his heart stopped a bit. To say she was beautiful wouldn’t quite be right—she was too much all at once to be beautiful
    What she was? She was stunning, tall and athletic, brown eyes sparkling and a hint of dimples flashing in her cheeks. Well, sometimes being a wingman wasn’t such a raw deal. He grinned. “Wanna dance?”
    She nodded enthusiastically, and he pulled her in to settle her hips against his, swaying with her movements from behind. Maybe if he stayed behind her, she wouldn’t notice what a godawful dancer he was.
    The beat of the music was sensual, and she rolled her head back to lean on his shoulder, a strand of golden hair stuck to her face where sweat beaded. Her hands found his, slid them down her hips to her thighs as she ground back against him. He felt his body tightening in response as her bottom pressed into the zipper of his jeans. Letting go of a little of his self-control, he loosened his movements and let his body respond to her.
    Soon, he was sweating too, and his body was hard in response to the sensual dancing. By the time she spun and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, his whole body was singing with lust. He caught her hips and pulled them tight to his own, chasing them in heated little circles, a profoundly erotic imitation of something he hadn’t done in far too long a time—a fact he suddenly had hope of remedying.
    He wasn’t the one-night-stand type, but common sense was quickly losing a battle with a far less sensible part of him that was willing to chase a pretty smile and a cascade of perfect hair all the way to a blistering end game.
    They danced for what seemed like an eternity, him watching her grin and pout and swing her hair with the