He saw where her eyes wandered, to the dance floor, and remembered the last significant moment they shared together at the wedding. She had asked him to dance and he, having not been drunk enough to not care about what present company would think, declined. He had regretted it.
He downed the last bit of his drink.
"I believe I owe you a dance," he set his empty glass on the bar and held out his hand.
At worst, people were going to think he was just another one of those men that saw the the young women as objects to be ogled at. He could live with that.