stars.
Fascinated, she rippled the water with her fingers and watched the stars become streaks of light, like a thousand comets dashing across the liquid surface. Then she looked up and found that she was standing under a bowl of stars reaching all the way to the horizon. Overcome with thebeauty of it, she reached her arms up to the sky. “Hallelujah!”
“Amen, sister!” Bowie called back.
“Have you chowhounds looked up from your plates long enough to notice all these stars?” Andi asked.
“They’re gorgeous, Andi,” Nicole said.
“But nothing compared to you, my sweet Nicole,” Bowie said.
“Cool it, Bowie. I’m not dancing with you, and that’s that.”
“It’s as if Liberace swirled his cape over the sky,” Andi said, staring upward until her neck hurt.
“Let me know if you see Elvis walking across the lake,” Bowie said. “In the meantime, I’m putting on a dance tape. Despite my heavy-lidded wifelet, the Lake Mead Jefferson Houseboat Party is just getting started.”
As Andi dipped napkins in the lake, the sound of marimbas and guitars filled the air. She smiled as she listened to Bowie trying to get Nicole to dance with him.
“Aw, come on, Nic. One little turn around the sand,” Bowie coaxed.
“Forget it, Fred Astaire. Head on down the line.”
Andi turned just as Bowie gyrated rhythmically over to where Chance sat.
“May I have this dance?” he asked, still holding his beer in one hand.
To Andi’s amazement, Chance got to his feet. Taking occasional swigs of his beer, he started executing a credible cha-cha with his brother.
“Ooh, have we got style!” Bowie cried. “Have we got rhythm!”
“Have you drunk way too much beer!” Nicole said, laughing.
Andi stood, the wet napkins dripping on her bare feet,almost afraid to move for fear the spell Chance was under would break and he’d make some excuse to go type reports again.
“Come on, Andi!” Bowie called, whirling in her direction and snatching the wet napkins. “Cut in.”
Breathless and smiling, she entered the dance in Bowie’s place. All she could see of Chance’s face in the dim light was the white flash of his grin as he matched his steps to hers. They didn’t touch, yet they seemed to know when to pivot, when to turn in time with each other, as if they’d been dancing this way for years.
The small space between their bodies crackled and snapped in time to the rhythm. Andi forgot everything but the music and the sensuous movements of the man across from her. His transformation, no matter how temporary, had completely captured her imagination.
Then the music changed to something slower and more languorous.
Vaguely she heard Bowie’s plea and Nicole’s weary agreement to dance the slow number with him. One dance.
For a heart-stopping moment, neither Chance nor Andi moved. Then he stepped forward and drew her slowly into his arms, the empty beer can cradled against the small of her back as he wrapped both arms around her in the casual dance position of lovers. She wound her arms around his neck and breathed in the tangy scent of beer mixed with his sexy aftershave.
Their bodies moved with the lazy rhythm of the music, but she could feel the rapid tattoo of his heart against her breast, and her own heart was racing out of control. Of course, they’d just been doing a very athletic cha-cha. Of course, that was the reason. Not.
She lifted her head to look up at him. He gazed downat her. She could barely see his shadowed eyes, yet she knew he was looking intently into her face. All that intensity he’d focused on his business was now trained on her like a laser, and she had trouble breathing. The twist of desire in her stomach grew stronger with each moment she spent swaying in his arms.
His head dipped lower. Her lips parted in anticipation. She closed her eyes.
Then another set of arms enfolded both of them. “Just carry on,” Bowie said, one arm around each of them as he swayed with the dance
Fascinated, she rippled the water with her fingers and watched the stars become streaks of light, like a thousand comets dashing across the liquid surface. Then she looked up and found that she was standing under a bowl of stars reaching all the way to the horizon. Overcome with thebeauty of it, she reached her arms up to the sky. “Hallelujah!”
“Amen, sister!” Bowie called back.
“Have you chowhounds looked up from your plates long enough to notice all these stars?” Andi asked.
“They’re gorgeous, Andi,” Nicole said.
“But nothing compared to you, my sweet Nicole,” Bowie said.
“Cool it, Bowie. I’m not dancing with you, and that’s that.”
“It’s as if Liberace swirled his cape over the sky,” Andi said, staring upward until her neck hurt.
“Let me know if you see Elvis walking across the lake,” Bowie said. “In the meantime, I’m putting on a dance tape. Despite my heavy-lidded wifelet, the Lake Mead Jefferson Houseboat Party is just getting started.”
As Andi dipped napkins in the lake, the sound of marimbas and guitars filled the air. She smiled as she listened to Bowie trying to get Nicole to dance with him.
“Aw, come on, Nic. One little turn around the sand,” Bowie coaxed.
“Forget it, Fred Astaire. Head on down the line.”
Andi turned just as Bowie gyrated rhythmically over to where Chance sat.
“May I have this dance?” he asked, still holding his beer in one hand.
To Andi’s amazement, Chance got to his feet. Taking occasional swigs of his beer, he started executing a credible cha-cha with his brother.
“Ooh, have we got style!” Bowie cried. “Have we got rhythm!”
“Have you drunk way too much beer!” Nicole said, laughing.
Andi stood, the wet napkins dripping on her bare feet,almost afraid to move for fear the spell Chance was under would break and he’d make some excuse to go type reports again.
“Come on, Andi!” Bowie called, whirling in her direction and snatching the wet napkins. “Cut in.”
Breathless and smiling, she entered the dance in Bowie’s place. All she could see of Chance’s face in the dim light was the white flash of his grin as he matched his steps to hers. They didn’t touch, yet they seemed to know when to pivot, when to turn in time with each other, as if they’d been dancing this way for years.
The small space between their bodies crackled and snapped in time to the rhythm. Andi forgot everything but the music and the sensuous movements of the man across from her. His transformation, no matter how temporary, had completely captured her imagination.
Then the music changed to something slower and more languorous.
Vaguely she heard Bowie’s plea and Nicole’s weary agreement to dance the slow number with him. One dance.
For a heart-stopping moment, neither Chance nor Andi moved. Then he stepped forward and drew her slowly into his arms, the empty beer can cradled against the small of her back as he wrapped both arms around her in the casual dance position of lovers. She wound her arms around his neck and breathed in the tangy scent of beer mixed with his sexy aftershave.
Their bodies moved with the lazy rhythm of the music, but she could feel the rapid tattoo of his heart against her breast, and her own heart was racing out of control. Of course, they’d just been doing a very athletic cha-cha. Of course, that was the reason. Not.
She lifted her head to look up at him. He gazed downat her. She could barely see his shadowed eyes, yet she knew he was looking intently into her face. All that intensity he’d focused on his business was now trained on her like a laser, and she had trouble breathing. The twist of desire in her stomach grew stronger with each moment she spent swaying in his arms.
His head dipped lower. Her lips parted in anticipation. She closed her eyes.
Then another set of arms enfolded both of them. “Just carry on,” Bowie said, one arm around each of them as he swayed with the dance
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