Chapter 23 #2
“This is my favorite swing number.” She rejoined him and held out her hands again. “Let’s start with the basic triple swing to get into the rhythm, then I’ll call out the steps. Dive in whenever you’re ready.”
He picked up the beat and launched into the triple swing step, and as Devyn called out the other moves, he transitioned into them with only minor missteps.
By the time the song ended, he was grinning. “That was actually fun.”
She disengaged and hurried over to the chair to shut off her phone, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling. “I agree. It’s been ages since I’ve done a swing dance. And I can’t believe how fast you picked up the steps. You also have impeccable rhythm.”
“I don’t know about that. I had a few fumbles.”
“But you got back on track immediately. A lot of people can’t do that. I think you’re ready for the command performance at the wedding.”
Yeah, he was. Best of all, he’d survived the lesson without a major testosterone spike.
If they left now, in ten minutes, he’d be home free.
Except dangerous words suddenly spilled out of his mouth. “What do I do if whoever I get paired up with at the wedding wants to use the traditional dance position? That could be tricky.”
As the question hung in the air between them, his heart skipped a beat.
What on earth had prompted that?
He’d made it through the whole session without getting too up-close-and-personal. He should be hightailing it out of here as fast as possible and thanking his lucky stars he’d escaped unscathed.
Instead, he was angling for an invitation to get cozy.
It didn’t make sense.
“Well . . .” Devyn moistened her lips. Folded her arms. “I suppose that could happen, but all the steps are the same. I guess we could run through the moves again in the closed position if it would make you feel more comfortable, though.”
It would likely do just the opposite.
Yet this could be his only chance to hold her in his arms, and after watching her from afar these past few weeks . . . after all the sparks that had flown between them . . . the temptation to go for it was suddenly too strong to resist.
“I think it could be helpful.” Despite his attempt to sound nonchalant, his reply came out a tad husky.
After a brief hesitation, she walked toward him. “Okay.”
He held out his arms.
She stepped into them.
And as he slipped his right hand around her impossibly small waist and clasped her right hand with his left, he stopped breathing.
At this proximity, the seven- or eight-inch height difference between them was even more pronounced. As were the intriguing silver flecks in her blue irises. And she had a tiny freckle beside her soft-looking lips—which were moving.
Uh-oh.
She was talking.
With an effort, he tuned back in.
“. . . and see how it goes.”
He’d missed too much of her comment to fake a reply.
“Sorry. Could you say that again? I was, uh, distracted for a minute.” He tried to ignore the warmth seeping through his shirt and into his skin from the hand she’d placed on his shoulder.
A faint hint of pink crept across her cheeks. “I suggested that we start with a few triples, then instead of me calling out steps, you take over since I won’t be there to give directions on Friday.”
Unless he asked her to go with him.
A shock wave rippled through him as that notion popped into his mind.
Bad idea.
Even if the RSVP deadline wasn’t until tomorrow and he could technically still add a plus-one.
Even if having her with him would alleviate his worries about dancing with a stranger.
Even if the thought of a whole evening in the company of this caring, beautiful woman set off a tingle in his nerve endings.
But if he succumbed to temptation, he’d be playing with fire.
“Aaron?” She examined his face. “Does that work?”
“Yeah. Let’s give it a try.”
She counted them in, and after a few basics, she let him take the lead.
For a guy with two left feet, he managed to hold his own. In all likelihood due more to Devyn’s skill than his. She seemed to anticipate what he was going to do, and with her natural grace she’d make any partner look good.
After he ran through all the moves a few times, he stopped. Not by choice, but they couldn’t dance together all night, given his limited repertoire of steps.
“You did great.” She eased out of his arms, and he let her go. Reluctantly. “You ready to call it a night?”
No.
But what excuse could he dredge up to prolong this encounter?
“Yes. I should get home and check on Isabel.”
“Give me a minute to gather up my stuff.” She strode over to her bag. Sat on the chair beside it and exchanged her ballet slippers for street shoes. “This didn’t take as long as I expected. You have natural ability, and you’re a fast learner.”
“You’re being kind.”
“Truthful.” She gave him a judicious scan. “You’ve had a bad dancing experience, haven’t you?”
This woman was way too insightful.
He slipped his fingers into his pockets. “My wife wasn’t impressed with my dancing skills.”
“Was she a professional dancer?”
“No.”
“Then I have better credentials to judge your dancing ability.” She flashed him a smile. “But I’m sure she admired many other things about you.”
“Actually . . . no. Not as time went by. We, uh, didn’t have the best relationship.”
Devyn slid her ballet slippers into her bag and gave him her full attention. “I’m sorry.”
He offered her a stiff shrug. “We had work/life balance issues. She was willing to put in an extreme number of hours to advance in her career. I wasn’t. I wanted more family time. That’s why I left the corporate world for the mill job.”
That was more than he’d ever told anyone other than Reverend Baker about his marital problems.
Yet somehow it felt right to give this woman a peek into the marriage that had failed to live up to his hoped-for happily-ever-after.
“I imagine that was tough. I understand having a demanding job and the sacrifices required to succeed, but as I get older, I’m recognizing how important it is to carve out time in your life for the people you love.”
“Like you did with Lauren.”
Devyn’s lips twisted into a wry smile as she slung her bag over her shoulder and stood.
“Don’t give me too much credit. I didn’t have any real plans for the summer, so coming wasn’t a huge hardship.
But to be honest, I wasn’t sure what kind of reception I’d get.
We haven’t been very close. Thankfully, though, our relationship is improving. ”
“Then you’re glad you made the trip?”
“Very much so.” Her gaze latched onto his for a second before she jerked it away to rummage through her bag for her keys. “If you like, I can close up and meet you by the door.”
What he’d like was to extend this conversation for another hour. Learn more about her family and training and her life in New York. Ask about her favorite songs and movies and food. Find out about the places she’d traveled and the activities she enjoyed during her free hours.
In other words, get to know her better.
But that wasn’t going to happen tonight. She was ready to go, and he should get home to Isabel.
“I’ll wait for you there.”
Three minutes later, when she joined him by the door, he pushed it open for her. “Why do you get stuck with the lock-up chores after every rehearsal?”
“We decided the group should sing rather than dance first.” She struck out for the car, and he fell in beside her. “Otherwise, Shaun would have to deal with flagging energy levels. I don’t know if you’ve paid much attention, but I keep everyone moving out there.”
“I noticed.” He circled the Focus and opened the driver side door for her. Once she slid inside, he took his place in the passenger seat and gave her the simple directions to his house.
“It’s too bad Isabel missed the swing dance lesson. She was excited about learning the steps with Ben.”
“I could try to teach them to her.”
“Excellent idea. That will keep you in practice.”
“Dancing with a nine-year-old isn’t the same as dancing with an adult, though. The height difference is a challenge.”
“But the footwork is the same. And you’ll have an adult partner at the wedding.” She motioned to the next street. “Is this where I turn?”
“Yes.”
He took a deep breath.
If he wanted to get to know Devyn, the ideal opportunity was staring him in the face—if he was willing to play with fire and ask her to the wedding.
Except it wasn’t really playing with fire.
After all, they were both logical people.
Smart enough to know that letting anything get out of hand would be foolish.
And if they both kept that top of mind, what would be the harm in spending a few hours together?
They’d enjoy a meal, share a dance or two, talk.
It would be a pleasant interlude to break up his usual routine.
It was worth a shot.
He swallowed. Wrapped his fingers around his seat belt. Held on tight. “Speaking of adult partners . . . the idea of dancing with a stranger is a bit unnerving for a neophyte triple-stepper. Is there any way I could convince you to go to the wedding with me? Be my partner for that first dance?”
The car swerved ever so slightly before she made a course correction.
It was impossible to read her expression in the darkness, but the note of caution in her voice was crystal clear when she spoke. “Can I be honest?”
His stomach clenched.
She didn’t want to spend an evening with him.
Meaning he’d either misinterpreted her interest or she had far more self-discipline than he did in terms of clamping down on feelings so they didn’t dictate actions.
Whatever her reason for declining, he should be grateful she was nixing a date that could lead to complications.
“Of course.”
“I’d like to go with you. But unless my social skills are rustier than I thought, there are sparks between us that could be dangerous, given our lives and livelihoods and locations. We could get burned.”
The lady didn’t beat around the bush or play games.
Refreshing.
“Can I be honest?”
“Yes.”
“We’re tracking the same direction. I have similar concerns. But dancing with a stranger is off-putting, and the appeal of having a partner I know overrode logic. Forget I asked.”
A few moments of silence passed.
“To tell you the truth, I’d rather not.” She exhaled, her words slow and deliberate.
“I mean, if we agree to keep things light and view the wedding as nothing more than an opportunity to have a pleasant evening out, maybe we should consider it.” She pulled up in front of his house, a note of longing in her tone underneath the caution.
That was heady stuff.
And too hard to resist.
“I’m on board with that plan.” He tried not to sound like an overeager, hormone-infused teenager.
She angled toward him. “Let me give you my cell number and you can text me the details.”
Before she could change her mind, he whipped out his phone and entered the digits as she recited them. “I’ll be in touch. Thank you again for the lesson.”
“It was my pleasure. Give Isabel a hug for me.”
“I’ll do that.” He slipped from the car, lifted a hand in farewell, and wandered inside as she drove away—all the while wishing Devyn had given him a hug.
He expelled the air from his lungs while he dug for his keys.
Those were the kind of thoughts he needed to corral before he picked her up for their unexpected date. Otherwise, the situation could get out of hand.
Fast.
Leaving them both with big regrets . . . and hurting hearts.