Loving Jessie by Dallas Schulze Page B

glanced at the last bite of cake on his plate and grinned. “You can hardly blame me for your lack of willpower.”
    “I’m considering an exorcism,” Reilly said darkly.
    “For me or the cake?”
    “I think it should be exorcized,” Matt said. “If it’s devil’s food.” He threw up one hand in laughing defense when his companions groaned. “Sorry.”
    “You should be,” Reilly grumbled.
    Standing there with the two of them, Jessie felt something shift inside her, a slow easing of a kind of emptiness she hadn’t even realized was there. Her grandfather’s death had left her alone, but she hadn’t realized just how lonely she’d felt until this moment, when she realized that she still had family, though it was of the heart rather than by blood.
    Reilly sighed as he finished the last bite of cake and set the plate aside. He gave Jessie a reproachful look. “I figure I’m going to have to run an extra fifteen miles next week just to work off all those calories.”
    “Poor baby.” Her grin made the sympathy decidedly suspect, and she laughed when he scowled at her.
    “Just for that, you can help me work off the calories.”
    Jessie shook her head. “I’m not going running with you. No way. Last time I went running with you, you tried to kill me. You made me run off a cliff.”
    “That was ten years ago, and it wasn’t a cliff. It was just a little wash, and I thought you knew it was there.”
    “I was picking gravel out of my knees for a month.”
    “You weren’t supposed to slide down it on your knees.”
    “Now you tell me.” She shook her head. “I don’t care how many calories were in that cake, I’m not going running with you.”
    “I had something more immediate in mind.” He cocked his head toward the living room, where Sloopy had given way to Little Eva urging everyone to do the Loco-Motion. Jessie’s eyes widened, and she shook her head, laughing. “Oh no. You’re not going to drag me out there to make a fool of myself.”
    “You owe me, Jess.” Grinning, Reilly caught her hand and tugged her toward the living room. “If you don’t help me work off some calories, I’ll have to buy a new wardrobe, and I’ll bill you for it.”
    “Reilly, I haven’t danced in ages. I don’t remember how.”
    “It’s just like riding a bike,” he said, ignoring her laughing protests.
    “Can’t I just ride a bike instead?” Jessie threw Matt a pleading look. “Do something.”
    “I’ll come watch,” he offered, following them across the hall.
    “Traitor,” she accused, but she was smiling when Reilly pulled her onto the floor just as the song changed and the plaintive inquiry of “Do You Love Me” echoed in the room. Matt heard Jessie laugh as Reilly swung her into his arms.
    It wasn’t the first time he’d seen them dance together, he reminded himself. He’d been present at more than one of their practice sessions—God, had it been more than ten years ago? But for some reason, this time, he was aware of how…sexual some of the moves were. Idiot. Why do you think they call it dirty dancing? When Reilly set his hands on Jessie’s hips and pulled her against him so that they were pressed pelvis to pelvis, Matt was startled by the urge to yank her away from him. It was bad enough that he’d been thinking about her underwear. Now Reilly had his damned hands all over her.
    “They look good together.”
    He hadn’t been aware of Dana’s approach until she spoke. He turned his head to look at her, struck as he was each time he saw her by the sheer beauty of her. But it was an impersonal admiration, the same way he couldn’t help but notice a beautiful sunset or admire a striking piece of artwork. He didn’t give so much as a thought to her underwear. There was probably a message there, he thought uneasily, before turning his attention back to the small dance floor.
    “They should look good together,” he said, responding to Dana’s comment. “Reilly taught her to dance.