Chapter 24
That had been a mistake.
Devyn pushed through the door of Lauren’s house, regrets and second thoughts multiplying with each minute that had passed since she’d dropped Aaron off.
Why, oh why, hadn’t she taken the out he’d given her on the wedding invitation?
“You’re back sooner than I expected.” Lauren looked up from their father’s recliner in the living room. “How did the dance lesson go?”
Devyn slowed her pace but kept walking. “It went okay.”
“Is that all I’m going to get?” Her sister muted the sound on the old sitcom she was watching and twisted toward her.
Devyn sighed.
Apparently Lauren was in the mood to discuss the dance lesson, even if she wasn’t.
She paused to offer a few more details. “He was a quick study. We got through the lesson fast. He should be set for the wedding.”
“That’s great. I’m sure he appreciated your willingness to help him out.”
No question about it.
“Uh-huh.” She started walking again.
“Hey.”
She halted. Angled back to find Lauren watching her.
“Why do I get the feeling something didn’t go as planned?”
Her sister was far too perceptive.
“There was a glitch.” Or two.
“What happened?”
Devyn hesitated.
Sharing the events of the evening before she had an opportunity to process them hadn’t been in her plans, but maybe talking through the situation would help her sort out her conflicted emotions.
“Isabel and Ben bailed.” She gave Lauren an abbreviated recap of the duo’s brownie-induced early departure.
“So you and Aaron were alone for the lesson.” A speculative gleam glinted in her eyes. “How did it go?”
“No issues. He didn’t have any difficulty picking up the steps.”
“That’s not what I mean, and you know it. Did things get . . . cozy?”
“No. We were both polite and professional.” She shifted her weight. Adjusted the strap of her tote bag on her shoulder. “But as I was dropping him off, he did invite me to go to the wedding with him.” May as well spit it out. She’d have to share that piece of news sooner or later.
Lauren’s eyes rounded. “He asked you out on a date?”
“It’s not exactly a date.”
“Of course it’s a date.”
“No. It’s more like a favor. He said he’d be more comfortable with a familiar partner for the dance he has to do.”
Her sister stared at her. “Get real, Devyn. A guy doesn’t invite a woman to spend a whole evening with him for the sake of a three-minute dance he sounds more than capable of pulling off.”
That was true.
“Fine. It’s a date. But we both agreed it would be foolish to let a few sparks short-circuit our common sense.”
Lauren’s eyebrows shot up. “You two talked about sparks?”
“Sure. Why not? I mean, we’re mature adults. It’s silly to dance around the elephant in the room.”
Her sister’s lips bowed. “That conjures up a very funny image.”
“I’m glad you see the humor in this.” Devyn crossed to the couch and plopped down. Hugged one of the throw pillows against her chest.
“Did you accept?”
“Yes, but in hindsight I think that was a bad idea. Even if we stay hands-off except for the dance, I’ll be spending a whole evening getting to know him and talking about all the stuff people talk about on dates. What if I start to fall for him?”
“Start?” Lauren tittered. “Sister dear, you’re already halfway there.”
She squeezed the pillow tighter, her heart kicking into double time. “Don’t be ridiculous. We only met three weeks ago. Besides, sparks aren’t a reliable basis for love.”
“They’re not a bad starting place, though.”
“Maybe not.” She could concede that much. “But it’s safer to ignore them unless there’s potential.”
“That’s easier said than done. Take it from someone who wore rose-colored glasses for too long after the sparks sputtered.” Lauren wrinkled her nose. “Still, this is only one date, not a long-term commitment. If you keep the conversation general and lighthearted, you should be safe.”
“That was the plan for tonight too, and look how that turned out.” Devyn dropped her head onto the back of the couch and stared at the ceiling. “I’m tempted to cancel.”
“Chicken.”
She twisted her neck and frowned at Lauren. “I’m not a chicken.”
“No?”
“No.” She wasn’t. This was about being smart, not scared. “I’ve taken plenty of chances in my career, but those were calculated risks. The odds were decent they’d pay off.”
“How do you know this one won’t?”
“Lauren. I have to be back in New York by mid-August for rehearsals for the fall season. That’s only seven weeks away. How could anything positive possibly come of letting myself get interested in Aaron?”
“You never know.”
“Yes, I do. He works in a lumber mill in Hope Harbor. I dance in New York. His career is here, mine is there. That’s not a recipe for a positive outcome.”
Lauren pushed the recliner upright. Stood. “You know, for a creative type, you’re not being very imaginative.”
“This isn’t about imagination. It’s about reality.”
“Reality can be altered.”
“How?”
“I have no idea in this case, but it seems like you’re putting too many limits on your options.”
“There aren’t many options at this stage of my career.
” She blew out a frustrated breath. “There isn’t a job for principal dancers in this part of the world, nor are there any world-class ballet companies.
And New York would be a long commute. On the flip side, there aren’t any lumber mills around New York City even if Aaron was inclined to relocate, which I doubt. This is his home.”
“It used to be yours too.”
And still was, deep in her heart.
But that didn’t make her present dilemma any easier to deal with.
“It’s an impossible situation, Lauren. For at least a few more years, my base is in New York, and extended long-distance relationships are hard to sustain.
Nor would it be fair to Isabel for me to pop in and out of her life.
” She sighed. “So I’ll go to the wedding, but after that, I need to keep my distance. ”
“You have to do what you have to do.” Her sister fluffed up the pillow on the chair and set the remote on the table beside it. “But remember, you’re in Hope Harbor. And in a town with a name like that, anything is possible. Sleep well.”
Quiet fell in the house after Lauren disappeared into her room, and Devyn stood. Stretched. Did a few shoulder rolls and neck turns.
For once her go-to tension remedy didn’t help. Thanks to her upcoming date with a hot lumber guy, whose muscled chest and strong hands and sexy aftershave would invade her personal space during the wedding dance.
However . . . it was possible the sparks between them would sputter and die out with extended contact. Attraction based on hormones didn’t have much staying power.
Unfortunately, though, it appeared there was a whole lot to like about Aaron Steele beyond his well-developed pecs and impressive biceps and an enticing hint of five-o’clock shadow her fingertips itched to explore.
But she could be wrong. Maybe after a whole evening in his company, the sizzle would fizzle.
If it didn’t?
She was in big trouble.
Was that blood on the back of the priest’s arm?
“Father Murphy.” Diane touched his shoulder as the cast milled about before the Oklahoma singing rehearsal on Tuesday night. “Did you cut yourself?”
He twisted the arm she indicated and examined it over his shoulder.
Heaved a sigh. “No. That’s paint. I stopped by the high school this afternoon to lend a hand with the sets.
I don’t think they trusted me with a hammer and nails, so they handed me a brush.
I was supposed to paint a lantern red, but considering the smear on my arm, I’m not certain they should have trusted me with that job, either. ”
“I’ll second that.” Reverend Baker joined them. “Brush-wielding is not your forte, my friend. The electric switch plates you painted when you volunteered to help me spruce up my guest room are still peeling.”
“That wasn’t my fault. You didn’t tell me to sand them before I put on the primer.”
“Everyone knows you have to degloss plastic if you want paint to adhere.” The minister rolled his eyes. “Take my advice. Stick to gardening. You’re better with a spade than a paintbrush—or a golf club, for that matter.”
“Hey. I beat you last Thursday on the links, didn’t I?”
“I was under the weather.”
“Excuses, excuses.” He flipped a hand at the minister. “Did you come over here for a purpose, or just to harass me?”
“I came to say hello to Diane.” He shifted away from his fellow cleric and toward her. “Are you enjoying being part of the show?”
“Very much.” Not to mention the sideshow these two always put on whenever they were together.
“Excellent. I’m happy our paths are crossing more here and at church. We’ve missed you and Martin at Grace Christian. I was delighted to see him a week ago Sunday at the early service.”
Diane stared at him.
Martin had gone to church?
“I had a chance to chat with him this afternoon too, at the high school, when he dropped by to lend a hand with the set building. Caught him as he was preparing to jump into the fray. It was kind of him to donate the lumber.” Father Murphy clasped his hands behind his back and rocked forward, onto his toes.
What in the world . . . ?
“You have paint on your arm.” Reverend Baker leaned closer to examine the long streak that began at the priest’s elbow.
“I know. Diane alerted me.”
“Let me get you a rag from the supply closet. If you dampen it in the men’s room and add a little soap, you should be able to clean up in a jiffy.”
“Thanks. Much appreciated.”
As the minister hurried off, Father Murphy grinned after him. “He’s a good man—but don’t ever tell him I said that. And speaking of good men . . . I was delighted to hear about Martin’s trip to Austin.”
Diane blinked.
Sweet mercy. Was she in an alternate universe?
“Um . . . I didn’t know about that. I haven’t talked to Lucas in a few days.”