Yesterday afternoon, FIGHTING FOR ELENA broke Amazon’s Top 100 in Paid Romantic Suspense and Kindle Romantic Suspense. That wouldn’t have happened without y’all! Thank you, thank you!!!! And here it is Wednesday so it is time for words and the theme/word of the day is **SPACE.** This is the beginning of one of my favorite scenes so I hope you enjoy it too. Also, as a fave, it might have been previously posted. Too bad. Enjoy it again! 😉
****
He flipped on his blinker and let go of her hand to turn into the parking lot at Randy’s. A few cars were parked near the entrance. The place was always packed on the weekends, but this was a weeknight. People in these parts worked for a living and that usually meant rising early so late nights were rare. He parked, swung out of the truck and hustled around to open Elena’s door. She’d learned to wait on him after their first foray to the grocery store in Bandera. Pops grinned. That had been quite the disagreement. His pretty Elena was a feminist.

“Why are you grinning?” she asked.

He wisely shook his head and held out his hand to help her step down. She’d changed into a dress with a flirty skirt and heels. She had some great legs and he let his admiration show. She snorted and rolled her eyes.

“Men,” she muttered.

Holding her hand, he led her inside. Randy, the owner, occupied the space behind the bar and Pops gave him a head nod in greeting. Several of the regulars turned to check out the new arrivals. He escorted Elena to a table and held her chair. “You trust me?”

Elena gave him a side-eyed look. “About what?” That got her another grin. She liked it when she got that grin. “Fine. I trust you.”

“Good.”

He swaggered off to the bar and Randy met him. “Two chili cheeseburgers, fries, and Coronas.”

Randy eyed Elena before returning his attention to Pops. “You know what you’re doing?”

Laughing, he shook his head. “Not a clue, man. Not a clue.”

While Randy ducked into the back kitchen to place the order with his cook, Pops went to the jukebox and studied the song selections. He found a Marc Anthony song and hoped it would have the right beat. Then he plugged in Dierks Bentley and finally, a Jason Aldean. By the time those three songs were over, their burgers would be ready. As the notes of the first song drifted from the speakers, he moved to the middle of the cleared space that doubled as a dance floor. Then he looked at Elena and extended his right hand. When she simply stared, he curled his fingers in invitation.

With a nervous smile, she pushed back the chair, stood, and walked toward him, her steps hesitant. When she reached him, she placed her hand in his and he drew her close—right as the salsa beat hit. And just as Rosie had said, dancing was just like riding a horse. Once you learned, you never forgot how. The moment Elena figured out he could dance, she was all in—hips melded to his, body swaying, feet moving. When he swung her out, that flirty skirt lifted in the breeze and the glimpses he got of her thighs were enough to make him consider getting their food to go.
****
I do like a man who knows his way around the dance floor. What about y’all? And have you read the book? If so, what’s your favorite scene? And writers, any space-y words to share?