Had she brought a date? They looked as if they knew each other when he considered how they moved together—and the way she smiled at whoever the hell he was.

“Del, I wasn’t expecting you tonight.” Parker strode over, kissed his cheek.

“I just dropped by to ...Who is that?”

“Who?”

“With Laurel. Dancing.”

Bemused, Parker glanced over, picked Laurel out of the crowd. “I’m not sure.”

“She didn’t bring him?”

“No. He’s one of the guests. We’re doing a kind of after-engagement, prewedding reception. Long story.”

“Since when do you dance at your events?”

“It depends on the circumstances.” She slid her eyes toward Del, said, “Hmm,” quietly under the sway of music and chattering voices. “They look good together.”

He only shrugged, slipped his hands into his pockets. “It’s not smart for you to encourage guests to hit on you.”

“Encourage is a debatable word. In any case, Laurel can handle herself. Oh, I love when they do the traditional dance,” she added when the music changed. “It’s so happy. Look at Laurel! She’s got it.”

“She’s always been good on her feet,” Del muttered.

She was laughing, and apparently having no problem with the footwork or rhythm. She looked different, he thought. How he couldn’t exactly say. No, that wasn’t it; he was looking at her differently. He was looking at her through that kiss. It changed things—and the change made him uneasy.

“I should do another walk-through.”

“What?”

“I need to do another walk-through,” Parker repeated, tilting her head to study him closely.

His brows drew together. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing.You can mix and mingle if you want. Nobody in this crowd will care. Or if you want something to eat besides dessert, you can go down to the kitchen.”

He started to say he didn’t want anything, but realized it wasn’t quite true. He didn’t know what he wanted. “Maybe. I just dropped by. I didn’t know you were all working tonight. Or most of you,” he corrected as Laurel circled by.

“Last-minute thing. We’ve got about another hour. You can go to the parlor if you want, and wait for me.”

“I’ll probably head on.”

“Well, if you change your mind, I’ll see you later.”

He decided he wanted a beer, and if he wanted one without the obligation of helping out, he’d need to get one out of the family kitchen rather than one of the event bars.

He should just go home and have a beer, he told himself as he started downstairs. But he didn’t want to go home, not when he was thinking about Laurel dancing as if she’d been born on Corfu. He’d just get a beer, then find Jack, hang out for an hour. Carter was bound to be around somewhere, too. He’d have a beer and find both of them, have some hang-out time with friends.

Men.

The best way to take your mind off women was to sit down and have a beer with men.

He backtracked to the family kitchen, and found a cold Sam Adams in the fridge. Just what the doctor ordered, he decided. After opening it, he looked out the window again to see if he could spot either of his friends. But on the terrace, lit by candles and colored lights now, strangers gathered.

He sipped the beer and brooded. Why the hell was he so restless? There were a dozen things he could be doing other than standing here in an empty kitchen, drinking a beer and looking out the window at strangers.

He should go home, catch up on some work. Or screw the work and watch some ESPN. He’d left it too late to call anyone for a date, for dinner or drinks—and the damn thing was, he just didn’t feel like being alone.

Carrying her shoes, her tired feet soundless, Laurel walked into the kitchen. Alone was exactly what she was after. Instead, she saw Del, standing at the window looking, to her mind, like the loneliest man in the world.

Which didn’t fit, she knew. She never thought of Del as lonely He knew everyone, and had a life so full of people she often wondered why he didn’t run off somewhere just for a breath of solitude.

But now, he seemed entirely alone, completely separate, and quietly sad.

Part of her wanted to go to him, put her arms around him, and comfort away whatever put that look on his face. Instead, she went into survival mode and started to back out of the room.

He turned, saw her.

“Sorry. I didn’t know you were here. Do you need Parker?”

“No. I saw Parker upstairs.” He lifted his eyebrows at her bare feet. “I guess all that dancing’s hard on the feet.”

“Hmm? Oh ... Not that much dancing, but when it comes at the end of a day like this, it’s cumulative.” Since he was here, and so was she, Laurel decided to get it over with and apologize. “I’ve only got a few, but since you’re here I want to say I was over the line the other night. I shouldn’t have jumped all over you like that.”

Bad choice of words, she thought. “I understand you feel a certain sense of ... duty,” she decided, though the word wanted to stick in her throat. “I wish you wouldn’t, and I can’t help being irritated by it any more than you can help feeling it. So it’s pointless to fight about it.”

“Uh-huh.”

“If that’s the best you can do, I’m just going to consider it bygones.”

He lifted a finger as he took another sip of beer. And watched her. “Not quite. I’m wondering why your irritation took the particular form it did.”

“Look, you were being you, and it got under my skin, so I said some things I shouldn’t have said. The way people do when they’re irritated.”

“I’m not talking about what you said so much as what you did.”

“It’s all of a piece. I was mad; I’m sorry. Take it or leave it.” Now he smiled, and she felt the low burn of temper in her belly.

“You’ve been mad at me before. You’ve never kissed me like that.”

“It’s like my feet.”

“Sorry?”

“It’s cumulative. It’s annoying when you put on the ‘Del knows best’ act, and since that’s been going on for years, the annoyance built up and so ... It was to prove a point.”