by Whitley Cox
Every ounce of apprehension and nervousness that Lowenna had when she’d first walked into the dance studio evaporated. She shut her eyes and leaned her cheek against the top of Willow’s head.
“She has that effect on everyone,” he said with a chuckle. “She’s like a drug.”
Lowenna didn’t bother opening her eyes, but she nodded and pressed her nose against Willow’s downy soft hair, inhaling her sweet baby scent. “She really is,” she murmured.
“Ah, there you two are.” Her bump preceded the rest of her as Violet came around the corner. Their dance instructor had informed Lowenna that she was due the first week of March with her first baby, so that explained the bassinet Mason had mentioned. Violet was probably getting ready for when her own baby would join her at work.
A pang in the hollow where her uterus had once been had Lowenna hugging Willow tighter against her. Would she ever get to hold a baby of her very own this way? Cancer had stripped her of so much, and as much as she was thankful to still have her life, she still mourned all that she’d lost. All that she would never know.
“She’s out,” Mason whispered, craning his neck around Lowenna to check in on his daughter. “You’ve got the magic touch. Want to help me put her down?”
“Bassinet’s in the back office,” Violet said, pointing down the hallway. “I have the baby monitor all set up, so we’ll be able to hear her and see her if she wakes up. You may want to close the door though, as the music can be quite loud.”
Mason nodded, and his hand fell to the small of Lowenna’s back. The heat of his palm was searing, even through the cotton layers of her shirt and cardigan. Or perhaps that was just the raging inferno inside her at the memory of his kiss one long week ago.
Had it really been a week since she’d seen him?
It felt like so much longer.
With a gentle but strong amount of pressure, he led her down the short corridor toward Violet’s back office. “Willow can sleep just about anywhere,” he whispered. “But she seems to really like you. Zonked right out.”
“Well, as long as she didn’t start screaming when you put her in my arms,” she whispered back, taking his cue and turning right into a small, dark office.
Were babies like dogs? Were they excellent judges of character? If Willow had started screaming in her arms, would Mason have rescinded on their arrangement? God, she hoped not. She’d gone and removed her ad from Craigslist. And thank God for that. The amount of creepers that she’d had to weed through each night to get at a few decent ones she responded to had been exhausting. Some of them even replied to the ad with dick pics. As if that was what would sway her?
“Right here,” Mason said, stepping around behind her and standing on the side of a small but what looked to be state-of-the-art bassinet. “Just lay her down on her back.”
“She won’t wake up?”
He shrugged. “She might, but I’ll probably be able to get her back down if she does.”
Lowenna took in a deep breath, cradled Willow’s tiny baby head in her palm, then leaned over into the bassinet. When she felt the bed beneath her hand, she gently pulled it out from under the baby’s head.
“It’s okay.”
She could tell he was trying not to laugh from how slow and hesitant she was acting.
“You got this,” he went on. “Easy does it.”
Lowenna released her other hand from under Willow’s butt, then slowly pulled it out of the bassinet. She stood back up, took a step back and threw her hands in the air, releasing the breath from her lungs in a deep whoosh.
Mason grinned that devilish smile that made her core instantly tighten. “Great job,” he mouthed before glancing back down at his daughter.
She nodded, then headed out into the lit hallway. “I’ll meet you in the studio,” she mouthed back.
His eyes flicked to hers and he murmured a “Mhmm,” before his gaze fell once again to his sleeping daughter.
As much as Lowenna wanted to stay in that room and watch Willow sleep, she also had to get out of there. Her heart physically ached the longer she held that baby. She hadn’t held a baby in a really long time, and it was because she knew what it would do to her. She knew how it would pull at the strings of her heart until they were so tight they nearly snapped and she would be reminded of all the things she might never have.
And that’s exactly what holding Willow did.
Yet, despite that, Willow also brought Lowenna a sense of peace and joy she hadn’t expected, and it softened the blow of her pain just a touch. It was a strange feeling to say the least. An ache and a calm all at once. Strange and confusing.
She entered the brightly lit dance studio to find the glowing Violet in a pair of black tights and a dark gray tank top standing in front of a very handsome man with light brown hair, both of them smiling. His hands were on her belly.
Lowenna took a deep breath, swallowed past the lump in her throat and tossed on the biggest smile she could muster. “Ready to dance?” she asked, clenching her molars together before her chin could tremble.
Both Violet and the man swiveled their heads in her direction. He dropped his hands from her belly immediately and took a step back, his face changing instantly to an expression Lowenna knew all too well.
Pity.
He knew.
Mason must have told him.
Her smile faltered a touch, but she forced the corners of her mouth up until they damn near reached her ears. “Teach me your moves, oh guru of the tutu.” God, now she was trying too hard. She cringed inwardly.
Violet’s green eyes sparkled, and she smiled. “Absolutely.” Her eyes flicked up from Lowenna’s face to behind her. Lowenna could see in the room full of mirrors that Mason had joined them. “Shoes off, Mase,” Violet said.
“That way you don’t crush your partner’s toes,” the other man said, winking at Lowenna. He approached her with his hand outstretched. “Adam Eastwood, Violet’s partner and a friend of Mason’s.”
She took his hand. “Lowenna Chambers. Nice to meet you. Thank you for agreeing to hold private dance lessons for us so late in the evening.”
His shake was strong. “Not a problem at all.” He released her hand and took a step back, his gaze less that of pity now and more of determination. “We’re going to get you two dancing like Fred and Ginger in no time. Mop the floor with those motherfuckers.”
Mason was busy removing his shoes and socks in the corner.
“It’s not a competition, dear,” Violet said blandly. She faced Lowenna. “Though, unless both you and Mason have two left feet and are as uncoordinated as drunk toddlers, you’ll be better dancers than your sister and her fiancé in no time. They’re both terrible … particularly him though. I don’t want to use the word hopeless, but I’m getting to that point.”
Lowenna’s mouth twitched as she fought back a smile. “Yeah, Brody was never a good dancer, and my sister tried in grade school, but she just couldn’t figure it out. The dance instructor suggested she try an instrument instead.”
Adam and Mason both snorted.
“That’s like telling somebody they have a face for radio,” Adam said with a chuckle, wandering over to the big stereo system in the corner of the room. “Shall we start?”
“Yes, let’s,” Violet said, covering her mouth with her hand to hide her yawn.
Lowenna removed her cardigan and tucked it to the side of the room. That’s when she noticed that her palms practically dripped with sweat. Was it because she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her kiss last week with Mason? Or that they would soon be pressed body to body and holding hands? And now those hands were sweaty as hell.
Great!
She made to wipe them on her pants, but his big, hard, warm body right next to her made her lose her train of thought. He offered her his hand, and she took it.
He wasn’t smiling.
Why?
“I lied,” he whispered as they made their way into the middle of the dance fl
oor. “I can’t just not dance. I’m actually pretty awful at it. But I promise to try my hardest for you, okay?”
Unease drifted behind his eyes as he stared at her, waiting for her response.
That’s when she realized his palms were sweaty too.
“That’s all I can ask,” she said, placing her hand on his shoulder at the same time he wrapped his other hand around her waist. “Besides, how much worse than my sister and Brody can we be?”
“Ouch!” Lowenna winced.
Mason sucked in a breath and took a step back. “Sorry.” Fuck, he was messing all of this up. How many times had he stepped on her toes now? He’d lost count. Thank God they were in bare feet, that was all he could say. If he’d been in his shoes, the poor woman would probably have a couple of broken toes by now, or at the very least her feet would be black and blue.
“It’s okay,” she murmured over the music.
Violet and Adam had decided to teach them the box step first, because apparently it was simple. Not quite.
Their dance instructors were beside them looking like a couple of professionals, in sync with each other and smiling ear to ear. They looked a bit goofy though, standing so far away from each other but still holding hands, what with Violet’s baby bump between them taking up real estate.
“Let’s switch partners for a bit,” Violet announced, pulling away from Adam. “It might be easier if we have some one-on-one support.” She made her way toward Mason and waited for him and Lowenna to disengage.
His heart sank just a touch when Lowenna pulled her hand from his and turned to Adam, whose smile was big and friendly.
Violet took Lowenna’s place, stepping away from Mason just a bit to accommodate the baby. “You look sad,” she said with a chuckle. “Am I not the woman you’d like to be holding hands with right now?” She took the lead, which was weird and awkward for Mason at first, but eventually he got the hang of allowing the woman to lead as she set them off across the room.
Truth be told, Mason had always had a tiny bit of a crush on his best friend’s little sister. Violet was certainly a beauty and sweet as could be. But Mitch probably would have killed Mason if he’d made a play for Violet back in high school. And now, Vi was happy with Adam, expecting a baby, and Mason had his sights set on the chocolatier currently smiling and floating around the room with Adam.
“I can see that I’m not.” Violet’s comment interrupted his thoughts.
He brought his gaze back down to her face. “Sorry, Vi.” He shook his head. “Maybe I need to go check on Willow.”
Violet rolled her green eyes, amusement tilting the corner of her mouth up. “She’s fine. The baby monitor is on the side over there, and we’d see little red lines shooting up the side if there was any noise in the room. She’s fast asleep.”
He shoved his tongue into his cheek and nodded once.
“Eyes on me,” Vi ordered. “If you intend to impress your lady friend, you need to focus more on your dancing. I’m not saying you’re terrible, but you’re not great either.”
Mason moved his gaze once again from Lowenna and Adam back down to Violet’s face. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
She laughed, just as her bump knocked his belly. “You’ll get there. Unlike my other clients, I wouldn’t describe you two as hopeless, just not in sync … yet. But we have time. This is only the first lesson. You’re back here Thursday.”
Mason’s hands were sweaty, and he was struggling to keep himself focused on Violet and not let his gaze wander around the room following Adam and Lowenna, who, by the way, seemed to be dancing beautifully.
So it was just him.
He was the dud on the dance floor.
“Look down,” Violet ordered. “Watch our feet.”
Mason did as he was told.
“Right. Good. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four. Smooth movements. Don’t overthink it. Let your body move with the music, move with my body. Keep your steps tight and light. As if the floor is made of eggshells.” She nodded. “There you go. That’s better.”
Mason did what he was told as best he could.
“Ouch!”
“Fuck!”
He’d stepped on her foot.
“It’s okay.”
They paused, regrouped and once again took off into the steps.
“You got it. Good job,” Vi encouraged.
She really was the best teacher. So patient, so positive.
She was going to make one hell of an amazing mother.
Mason groaned. “Thanks. I’m really sorry about your foot. I’m sure Lowenna’s feet are going to be covered in bruises by the time we’re done.”
Violet giggled. “I think she’s a pretty tough cookie.” She glanced away from Mason. “Looks like Adam’s not the person she’s interested in dancing with either.”
Mason’s head snapped around so fast, he was sure he’d feel that in the morning. Lowenna’s gray eyes were on him as Adam twirled her around the room. They were pinned to him, focused and intense.
What did that mean?
Violet cleared her throat. “Shall we switch back?”
Mason released Violet as if she’d suddenly told him she had a contagious disease, which only earned him another laugh from his pregnant dance partner.
“I can see you agree,” she said blithely, rubbing her belly as she wandered away from Mason and back to Adam. “Okay, guys, watch us for a moment. Watch our feet.” She took Adam’s hand, and the two of them effortlessly took off around the dance floor.
“They’re incredible,” Lowenna breathed next to him.
The woman smelled amazing. Like chocolate and spice. A heady and intoxicating combination. He resisted the urge to wrap his arm around her waist and pull her into his side.
They weren’t together, and he wasn’t even her pretend boyfriend yet.
When did she want him to start pretending? Won’t her family and the wedding guests be suspicious if she suddenly shows up to the wedding with a boyfriend they haven’t met or heard anything about?
Should he start pretending now?
“Have they been dancing together long?” she asked, turning to face him and breaking him from the never-ending carousel of confusing thoughts spinning through his brain.
He shook his head, not bothering to watch Violet and Adam but instead giving the woman in front of him his undivided attention. “No, not very long actually. Only since last spring.”
Her unique gray eyes flared open. “You’d think they’ve been dancing together for years the way they move so seamlessly.” Her throat bobbed on a swallow, and she turned her head back to watch their instructors float around the room. “I’d love to get to that point with a person, where it’s no longer work, where your bodies just come together and do what they do best.”
Do what they do best.
Was that an innuendo?
Normally, Mason was good at reading a woman’s cues. He knew whether they were interested in him in a matter of minutes. The flush of their cheeks, the batting of their lashes, the flare of the nostrils, hair tucked behind the ear in a flirty way. And he’d certainly been on the receiving end of a fair few fuck-me eyes, particularly working at the bar. But he couldn’t get a read on Lowenna. Was she interested in him as more than just a date for hire, or was it all in his head?
Fuck, not even in high school or junior high had a woman confused him or frazzled him this much.
Nor has a woman beguiled you this much either.
“Come on, you two,” Violet encouraged, she and Adam dancing right past them. “Start dancing again.”
Mason slyly slid his sweaty palms over his pants before reaching for her hand. “Shall we?”
Her smile could have lit up a thousand cities. She placed her hand in his and stepped into his space, bringing her spicy, chocolaty scent with her. “We shall.”
Mason began to lead them around the room, taking extra care not to step on her bright red painted toes. Even her feet were hot,
and he’d never been a big foot guy. But if he were, Lowenna’s would be in the spank bank for sure.
She cleared her throat, which caused him to lift his head up from where he’d been staring down between their bodies, focused on their feet and his not stepping on hers.
“You okay?” she asked, concern in her eyes and a half smile curving up on her lips.
He nodded and grunted, tugging her just a touch closer to him. He didn’t miss the flare of her nostrils when her breasts knocked his chest. Was that a sign?
“Just don’t want to step on your feet,” he said, trying to keep the step counts in his head while talking.
She smiled again, and her hand on his shoulder squeezed. “I have faith we’ll figure this out. It’s only day one, right?” Hope glimmered back at him in her silver-gray orbs.
Only day one.
“We’ve got five weeks and nine more dance lessons before the wedding. That’s loads of time to sort out your two left feet.” Her giggle made his cock jump, and he subtly inched his pelvis away from her in case she felt it. Or in case his cock had some harebrained idea to suddenly join the dance party.
“Five weeks,” he muttered. “Nine more dance lessons.”
“Ouch.”
Fuck.
Their steps faltered and their dancing stopped when he stepped on her toe.
“Sorry,” he murmured, wincing at the pained expression on her face.
“It’s okay.”
Letting out an exhale and cursing his awkwardness, he led them off, back into the dance steps, counting the steps once again in his head.
He had a month, give or take, to prove to Lowenna that he could be more than just a date for hire. More than just arm candy to one-up her sister and prove to her ex-husband she didn’t need him.
He had a month to woo her.
He had a month to make her his date for Valentine’s for real, with zero strings attached, zero contract, and zero money exchanging hands.
Hell, he had a month to get her to fall in love with him, because over the past few weeks watching her interview those men, Mason had damn near fallen in love with her, and black and blue toes or not, no way was he letting her go.
