Mitch laughed. “He’s pretty bad too, but I wasn’t talking about Will.”
The tingling on her neck intensified. “Who did you mean?”
“Your date. He looked about ready to challenge me to a duel when I sat down earlier. And he’s glared at us ever since we started dancing.”
“You’ve had too much wine, Mitch. You’re imagining things. Warren and I are friends.”
Mitch chuckled. “You’re either blind or dumb if you believe that, Ruth.”
She contemplated stomping on his toe as punishment for the insult. Instead she scowled at him. “You used to be the kind twin. What happened?”
“You know I wasn’t being mean.” He tickled her side, but she refused to smile. “I’ve been watching him. He hasn’t stopped looking at you since I sat down. And if looks could kill, you’d be standing with a corpse right now.”
If she only had eyes in the back of her head. She couldn’t imagine Warren acting the way Mitch described. At the same time, she’d known Mitch a long time. He loved to joke, but he would never be cruel or make up a story that would hurt someone’s feelings.
“All I can say is I’m glad this dance is almost over. Please don’t be offended if I don’t ask you to dance again tonight.”
“I won’t hold it against you. But I still think you’ve had too much wine. Stick with water for the rest of the night.”
The singer hit the last high note, and the music stopped. Mitch dropped his hands, but he didn’t lead her back to their table. “Since you don’t believe me, why don’t we test my theory?”
“How?” She wasn’t sure she believed Mitch, but she’d go along with him anyway.
“Follow my lead.” He pulled her against his side, his arm around her waist. Then he walked them across the dance floor as another song started.
Mitch placed his lips close to her ear. “What did I tell you? He looks about ready to kill me.”
She nodded. Even from where they stood, she noticed Warren’s clenched jaw and the cold stare he directed toward Mitch. Neither of which made any sense. Why would he act jealous? His reaction had to be caused by something else.
“Still think I’ve had too much wine?” Mitch asked, his voice a low whisper.
She didn’t have a good answer, so she shrugged.
When they reached their table, Warren stood without any hesitation.
“I’m going to see if my mom wants to dance. My father hates dancing, so she’ll never get him out there tonight.” Mitch removed his hand from her waist. “I’ll talk to you later, Ruth.” He extended his hand toward Warren. “It was nice meeting you, Warren.”
Warren shook hands with Mitch and then pulled out her chair.
“Have fun, Mitch. I’ll talk to you later.”
With a wave, Mitch walked away, leaving Ruth and Warren alone.
“You and Mitch seem like good friends.” Warren no longer clenched his jaw, but his shoulders remained tense.
“We are. He’s a funny guy. Mitch is the exact opposite of his brother. Will is one of the most serious people I have ever met.” She inched her hand closer to his on the table. While she wouldn’t reach out and join their hands herself, she hoped he’d do it.
“Since you and Helen are so close, I’m surprised she never got you to go out with Mitch. Didn’t you say she wanted the two of you together?”
“Trust me, it’s not for lack of trying on her part.” Ruth shifted a little closer to Warren. “I could never be with Mitch. He’s a great guy and I like him, but he’s too much of a joker. It’s okay sometimes, but I don’t think he ever takes anything seriously.” Of course that wasn’t the only reason she’d never go out with him, but she wasn’t going to tell Warren that she suspected Mitch was gay.
Warren’s shoulders relaxed. “I agree. There is a time and place for everything.”
The fast song the DJ played ended and another slow ballad began. Once again Warren’s hand took hold of hers. “Would you like to dance?”
Heck yes. Her insides jumped with excitement. A dance meant she’d be in his arms. “I’d love to.”
He’d suffered through enough dance lessons to know the exact distance deemed appropriate between dance partners. Tonight he ignored that knowledge. Without a thought to the guests and what they might think, he pulled her close. When he’d agreed to accompany her today, he intended to keep his feelings under lock and key. Tomorrow during dinner he’d reveal how he felt and hope she returned his affections. Somewhere along the way, his plan went off the rails. He hadn’t been able to help himself, much to his disgust. Normally, he contained his emotions no matter the situation. Regardless of how upset, angry, or nervous he was, others never noticed it. On more than one occasion his father commented how such a quality would serve him well in the boardroom and in politics.