Strictly Come Dating

by Kathryn Freeman

  ‘Ooh, he’s turned up again.’ Shirley or Pauline, he couldn’t remember who was who, they both had short white hair, portly middles and faces that looked like they’d spent most of their years laughing. Anyway, one of them gave him a wink. ‘I’m bagging you for the first dance. Don’t see why Maggie should get you all to herself.’

  He looked at Maggie, silently pleading with her to intervene, but instead of the sympathy he was hoping for, her face lit up with amusement. ‘No problem, Shirley. It’s only fair we share Seb around.’

  He was starting to feel like a piece of, well, not exactly meat. Maybe some sort of cake. Something these women fancied nibbling on. Involuntarily, a shudder went through him and Maggie smirked, as if she could read his mind.

  Belinda chose that moment to make her entrance, and within minutes Seb found his left arm stretching round a sizeable body, his eyes looking into a pair of slightly sunken brown eyes, crow’s feet radiating from their outer edge.

  This definitely wasn’t what he’d had in mind when he’d begun his epic bus trip.

  Then again, though she didn’t make his heart pump, or his hormones dance, Shirley did at least make the foxtrot memorable.

  ‘Shirley, your hand shouldn’t, at any point, need to be on Seb’s backside,’ Belinda admonished as she did her inspection.

  Shirley cackled. ‘You’re such a spoilsport.’ Seb felt a light squeeze on his right buttock before her hand, thankfully, moved back to the top of his arm.

  Over Shirley’s shoulder, he caught Maggie’s eye and she gave him a pained look as the guy she was dancing with spun her too forcibly. ‘You need to rescue me,’ he mouthed to her.

  ‘You need to rescue me,’ she mouthed back, before she was jerked away from his line of vision.

  ‘Shirley.’ Seb gave the woman in his arms his best smile. ‘Do you fancy helping me out?’

  ‘Of course, love.’

  ‘The thing is, I’ve not come here just to learn to dance.’

  ‘Ooh, I knew it. You’ve come to pick up a girl. And look no further, dear. I may not have the body of one any more, but inside.’ She patted her eye-wateringly large chest. ‘Inside I’m twenty-one and game for anything.’

  He felt the blood drain from his face. ‘That’s a great offer, Shirley, really, but what I meant is I’ve come here to learn to dance with Maggie.’

  ‘Maggie?’ Shirley looked over at Maggie, and then back at him. ‘What’s she got that I haven’t?’ He must have looked as flustered as he felt, because she let out a loud belly laugh. ‘Look at your face. I’m too much for you to handle, eh?’ She glanced again at Maggie. ‘Well, you certainly make a handsome couple.’

  ‘Oh no, we’re not a couple.’ Christ, he couldn’t have Shirley getting the wrong end of the stick. ‘She’s way out of my league.’

  ‘She’s a beauty, all right. If you want her though, lad, you can’t be thinking like that. You need to pull your finger out and fight for her.’ She chuckled, giving his bicep a quick squeeze. ‘Seems to me you’ve got the right equipment.’

  ‘I’ll bear that in mind.’ This was like wading through a treacle-filed bog. Still, he needed her on his side, so he kept smiling. ‘First, though, before I do all that err… fighting… Maggie’s helping me out with a dance competition I’m organising for the youth centre. She’s agreed to be my partner and, well, frankly, we need all the practice we can get. Practice together,’ he emphasised, just in case Shirley had missed the point.

  Eyeing him shrewdly, Shirley nodded. ‘I like your thinking. Get her to dance with you first, then she’ll be putty in your hands. Us ladies do love being taken for a twirl by a strong man.’ Before he could correct her – and he wasn’t absolutely sure she was on the wrong path – Shirley let go of him and marched over to Maggie and her dance partner. ‘Charlie, time to let go of that lovely young lady and partner up with this old bird.’

  Charlie looked distinctly unhappy at the prospect, and Seb had a smidgen of sympathy for him. Dancing with Maggie was probably the highlight of his year. Thankfully Shirley wasn’t the sort of lady who took no for an answer, and two minutes later, Seb found his hand resting on the slim back of a sexy thirty-something-year-old, while gazing into a pair of dancing grey eyes.

  ‘Whatever you said, thank you,’ she whispered.

  ‘I promised her I’d take her home and massage her feet.’ Maggie’s eyes flew open, her expression horrified, and Seb laughed, though privately he wondered if she’d be even more horrified with their actual conversation. Including the ‘putty in his hands’ part. ‘Chill, I told her we had a competition coming up and we needed the practice.’

  As if to prove it, he stumbled over the first few steps, wincing as she winced. ‘Crap, did I get your toe?’

  ‘It’s fine.’ She gave him a reassuring smile. ‘Relax, or, what is it you said, chill?’

  ‘Yeah, either works.’ But he could feel the warmth of her skin against his palm, as if the blouse she wore wasn’t there. And then there was the occasional brush of her breasts against his chest, the press of her thighs on his. It was heaven, and it was torture. As if that wasn’t bad enough, his groin was twitching, excited to feel the object of his increasing obsession within such close proximity.

  No, he couldn’t think about this. He had to talk, to distract himself. He cleared his throat. ‘So, have you thought about what dance you want to do for the competition?’

  ‘I kind of assumed we’d do the simplest, like the waltz?’

  Her hesitancy about something he knew she loved drove him nuts. ‘Oh no. No way.’ After navigating round a couple who needed hazard warning lights they were so off track, he bent so he could look into her eyes. ‘We’re not going with the dance you think we should do, we’re going with the dance you want to do.’ He smiled as she eyed him warily. ‘So get thinking, Dr Peterson.’

  If it happened on two successive weeks, did it mean it was becoming a habit? Maggie pondered the question as she drove Seb home. Again. She could hardly leave him to catch the bus though, could she? And what she definitely didn’t want to do was put him off going again next week.

  Admitting that was hard, but dancing with Seb was… An involuntary sigh escaped her. Dancing with him was delicious. Even the basic steps they were doing now, had never felt so intimate, so… okay, she had to admit it, so sexy. But why? Was it his physique, the cute smiles he kept shooting her when he mucked up, the heavenly smell of him? Maybe it was the natural rhythm he showed, once he relaxed into it. She needed it to be something she could easily explain, because then she could reassure herself what she felt was just a simple law of attraction: female to young, handsome male. ‘Is Belinda right?’ Maggie asked as she turned into Sarah’s road. ‘Have you danced before?’

  He shrugged the powerful shoulders she enjoyed placing her hands on. ‘I’ve not had lessons but I did a short stint as a cruise worker, and as part of that I was told some basics so I could smooch when needed.’

  The image made her laugh. ‘Funny, I can see you doing that.’

  He slid her a look. ‘You can see me charming the rich old ladies, huh?’

  ‘You’ve got them all queuing up to dance with you at the studio.’

  ‘What about you?’ He asked as she pulled up outside Sarah’s house. ‘Could you see me charming you?’

  I’ve got an awful feeling you already have. ‘Why would you want to charm me?’

  He smiled, his eyes skipping over her face, before resting for a beat on her lips. ‘Who wouldn’t want to charm you?’

  Flutters rippled through her belly but she made herself remember why being attracted to someone wasn’t necessarily a good thing. ‘I can name one man who didn’t want to, at least not once he’d seen someone better.’

  Seb’s browns came together in a frown. ‘Your ex doesn’t count because any man who decided to up and leave you and your kids is clearly mentally deranged.’

  His words soothed her undernourished ego. ‘He’s got his own version of events
, but thank you.’

  ‘How long had you guys been together?’

  Maggie had to think, it had been so long since she’d talked about Paul. ‘Ten years. Long enough for us both to get on each other’s nerves, I guess.’ Though she’d never once considered throwing in the towel. Marriage had to be worked at, yet he’d not even wanted to try. Instead he’d decided to look at pastures new. ‘What about you. Have you been in a relationship long enough to get on a woman’s nerves?’

  He clutched a hand to his chest. ‘You wound me, but in answer to your question, I’ve not had the opportunity yet, no. Not that I’m against the concept – the relationship that is, not pissing women off.’ He hesitated a moment, fingers drumming on his thigh. ‘Can I ask why your marriage ended, or is that too personal?’

  It was too personal. Yet sitting in the intimacy of the car, a street light the only illumination, Maggie almost wanted to tell him. ‘I don’t think we’ve reached that level of friendship yet.’

  His soft laughter echoed round the interior. ‘Neat evade, though I didn’t miss the word yet. I can work with that.’ His eyes zeroed in on hers and he stilled for a moment before leaning towards her. Immediately her heart began to thump against her ribs but his mouth didn’t find hers, as she’d half dreaded, half hoped. Instead he whispered in her ear, his breath warm against her skin. ‘I meant what I said before. I like you, Maggie Peterson.’ Then he drew back and smiled. ‘Strictly Saturday is at yours this week?’

  Bemused, flustered, her heart galloping, she nodded.

  With that he opened the car door and eased himself out. As she watched his long, loping strides take him up the path, she wondered whether to be scared or just plain flattered by his words. Damn it, she was going with the second. She enjoyed his company, enjoyed dancing with him, and from the sound of things, he felt the same way. It wasn’t like the guy was going to make a move on her. He surely had his hands full with whoever he went clubbing with every Saturday night after Strictly.

  Putting her key in the door five minutes later, Maggie caught a glimpse of her face in the reflection on the glass, and was surprised to find she was smiling. That’s what dancing did. It was a happy place for her, though she had to admit a huge slice of the happy was down to the man she was dancing with.

  She’d only been inside a minute, just long enough to wave hello to Hannah, who was sitting watching television, when her mobile began to ring. And when she answered it, the voice greeting her at the other end wiped the smile right off her face.

  ‘Paul. What can I do for you?’

  ‘Where have you been?’ His tone was tight and irritated. ‘I tried the home number and the girl who answered said you were out.’

  ‘You lost the right to ask me questions like that three years ago.’

  ‘Not if my daughters are involved. It’s after nine o’clock on a school night.’

  Maggie let out an incredulous laugh. ‘You’re seriously questioning my parenting ability when you’ve not actually bothered to see them for two years?’

  Silence. Followed by a loud expulsion of breath. ‘You’re right, sorry.’

  ‘You spoke to Hannah, my nanny, who was looking after them,’ Maggie told him, because he was still their father. As for her own whereabouts, that was nothing to do with him.

  ‘Okay, yes, of course.’ Another sigh. ‘Look, I’m not phoning to fight. I know I’ve let the girls down recently—’

  ‘Two years isn’t recently, Paul.’

  ‘I’ve FaceTimed them,’ he countered, and she hated the arrogant way he said it. As if it was a perfectly acceptable alternative to actually seeing their father.

  ‘And when was the last time you did that?’ Another few beats of silence, and she imagined he was furiously glancing through the calendar on his diary. ‘I’ll save you trying to find the date. It was six months ago. And the time before that, it was five months ago.’

  ‘Shit, was it really?’

  He wasn’t a bad man. Many times Maggie had reminded herself of that. He’d just turned out to be astonishingly self-centred. ‘Yes, it really was.’

  ‘Time seems to have run away with me, what with buying a new place and a promotion at work.’

  ‘Congratulations.’

  ‘Thanks.’ He hesitated, probably because she’d been unable to put much warmth into the word. ‘Look, I know I’ve been a poor father since I… since we split up, but I want to rectify that. In fact that’s why I’m calling. I’d like to see Tabby and Penny.’

  Maggie felt a crushing weight on her chest, and she had to take the phone away from her ear for a moment so she could just focus on breathing. He was their father. He had every right to see them. Plus she wanted them to have a relationship with him. So why did the thought of them spending time with him hurt so much? ‘Will it just be you?’

  ‘Err, no. Isabelle will be with me.’

  And now she had her answer. Paul seeing them was fine. Paul and his new woman… that hurt. She wanted to tell him to go to hell. To slam the phone down on him, but how could she when he was their father? ‘Why the sudden urgency for her to meet them?’ The silence this time was so long, Maggie wondered if he’d heard her. But then he cleared his throat, and suddenly she had her answer. ‘You’re getting married,’ she stated flatly.

  Dimly she heard him say he’d wanted to tell her in person, and when her frozen mind couldn’t come up with a reply, she heard him say he’d phone another time.

  Then all she heard was the dial tone, and the sound of something in her chest shrivelling.

  Chapter Twelve

  Seb was worried about Maggie. The woman who’d opened the door to him and Sarah a few minutes ago for Strictly Saturday wasn’t the same woman he’d danced with on Wednesday. That woman had been flushed, her eyes shining. This woman looked pale, her eyes a flat grey.

  He glanced at Sarah, who shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I’ve not spoken to her all week.’

  ‘She was fine on Wednesday.’

  His sister gave him a sharp look. ‘You didn’t say anything to upset her, did you?’

  ‘No, of course not.’ But his gut twisted. Had she taken offence at what he’d said about liking her? Was this her way of telling him to back off?

  ‘Seb?’

  ‘I don’t think I said anything,’ he corrected. Unwilling to discuss it any further, he went to join the kids in the television room. Alice and Jack hadn’t arrived yet, so it was only Tabby and Penny, currently fighting over the remote control.

  ‘Mum said it was my go.’ Tabby put her hands on her hips and gave Penny a good old pout.

  ‘No, she didn’t,’ Penny argued. ‘She said to take it in turns. And you did it last night.’

  Seb coughed, drawing both of their attention. ‘Hello, ladies.’

  Tabby turned her pout on him. ‘Penny won’t let me put the TV on and it’s my turn.’

  He glanced at Penny, feeling like the referee in a fraught tennis match. ‘Whose turn do you think it is?’

  ‘It’s mine.’ Penny sighed, throwing the remote onto the sofa. ‘But fine, whatever. Tabby can do it.’

  Tabby snatched at it, grinning widely, and immediately after zapping it on began flicking through the channels. Penny went to sit quietly on the floor. Feeling for her, Seb went to sit next to her. ‘Do you want to see what I learned at the dance lesson on Wednesday?’

  She turned to look at him, her shoulders rising up and down in a shrug of indifference. ‘I guess.’

  He rose to his feet and held out his hand. ‘Come on then.’

  She stared at him. ‘What, you mean like you’re going to dance with me?’

  ‘How else can I show you?’

  Giving him a shy smile, she scrambled to her feet. ‘I can’t dance, though.’

  ‘Neither can I. That’s why I’m learning.’ He bent his head to whisper in her ear. ‘Don’t tell her I said this, but your mum is way better than me.’

  As he began to show Penny the basics, Tabby’s eyes left the
television. ‘I want a go.’

  ‘No problem.’ He nodded down to Penny. ‘But it’s your sister’s turn first.’

  Tabby gave a loud, dramatic huff. ‘I suppose that’s fair.’

  He couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing. Soon Penny did, too, and it wasn’t long before Tabby joined them, even though he wasn’t sure she knew why she was laughing.

  It was because he was distracted, the television playing noisily in the background, that he didn’t hear the front doorbell. The first he knew of Maggie’s visitors, was when they appeared in the doorway. A tall guy, around six foot high, dark hair flecked with grey and brown eyes that stared antagonistically at him. By his side was a pretty blonde woman who looked to be in her early thirties.

  Penny, whose right hand was in his left, her other hand on his arm, stilled. ‘Dad?’

  That’s when Tabby also decided to take notice of the visitors. Unlike her more cautious sister, Tabby ran over to her dad and flung her arms around his legs. Then she looked up at the woman next to him. ‘Who’s that?’

  It was only then Seb noticed Maggie, standing behind the man he presumed was her ex. ‘Girls, this is Isabelle. Dad’s friend.’

  ‘What about you, Penny? Don’t I get a hug?’ Paul gave his eldest daughter a tight smile before raising his eyes to Seb and giving him what could only be described as a death stare.

  Realising he was still holding Penny in a waltz, Seb let go of her hand and stepped back.

  Slowly Penny walked over to her father and tentatively put her arms around his waist. Paul, equally tentatively, kissed the top of her head.

  Then he stared hard in Seb’s direction. ‘While we’re making introductions, who are you?’

  Seb took a second to glance at Maggie. A second he wished he hadn’t wasted, because it gave Tabby the opportunity to jump straight in, feet first. ‘That’s Seb. He helps Penny with her homework and looks after us sometimes when Hannah is sick. And he dances with Mum.’ Having detonated that minefield of information, Tabby plonked herself back on the sofa. ‘And now we have to be quiet ’cos Strictly is about to start.’