The only thing stopping the sweat trickling all the way down Merci’s back was her dance partner’s hand. It was nice, strong hand that was firmly pressed into the center of her back, but it had to be soaking wet by now - so damn embarrassing.
His breath was warm against her cheek. It smelled of mint and hot chocolate. Merci closed her eyes and smiled, but then opened them again. What had she eaten for lunch? A hamburger. Did it have onions on it? She couldn’t remember to save her life. Just don’t say anything and he’ll never know you have bad breath.
“You’re thinking too way much for a simple waltz.”
Merci looked up in time to see a small smile play at the corners of his mouth. “I don’t waltz every day.” Like never.
“Do you always sweat so much?” His eyes crinkled but the smile didn’t reach his lips this time.
“Only when I waltz, besides you’re holding me much too close for comfort.” She tried pulling back but his firm hold didn’t give even a fraction of an inch. She might have been annoyed, but she liked a man who took control.
“It’s a safety precaution.” This time the suppressed smile broke through and revealed white, even teeth - and a deep dimple in his right cheek.
What the hell was he talking about? “Safety?”
“You were stepping on my feet.” He softened that statement with a wink
Merci huffed and looked over her dance partner’s shoulder. They danced for a short time before she broke the silence. “What’s your name?” You probably should have asked him that before agreeing to dance with him.
Good Lord. “What were your parents thinking?” Oops. That might have been a little too direct.
My friends call me, Walt.”
Merci sniffled. “I don’t blame them.”
“Do you come here often?”
“Every Wednesday, after work.”
Walt stopped by her car. “Maybe you’ll hit my shopping cart again next week too.”
“It was an accident.” Sometime during their waltz a crowd had gathered and was watching their exchange with amused interest.
“If I ask you to dance again next Wednesday, will you accept?”
“I sweated into your hand, and…” Merci glanced around at the onlookers, “maybe a parking lot isn’t the best place for waltzing.”
Walt brushed his lips across her knuckles. “Same time, same place?”