by Lisa Plumley
“Why are Luke’s plans such a big secret, TJ? What am I missing here?”
Nada. She kept going.
“And why does Luke need to be super-successful to show up his dad? What’s the deal with that? Do they have some kind of rivalry going on?”
“Rivalry?” He scoffed.
“You’re right. Men probably outgrow that kind of stuff.”
“No, I’d say ‘rivalry’ is putting it lightly. Those two totally butt heads all the time.”
Just like her and her dad. Josie’s empathy for Luke grew.
“Luke doesn’t fit in with his family. He never has,” TJ said. “His relationship with his dad makes yours with your dad look like a walk in the park.”
“Geez, do they fire bazookas at each other, or something?”
“Just about.” He dropped Wild Berry crumbs on his T-shirt. Noticing, he gave a halfhearted sweep. “It gets pretty bad. I’ve been there for a couple of the arguments, including the last one.” He whistled. “It was a biggie.”
“What was it about?”
“Can’t say.”
“Who was right?”
He seemed taken aback by the question. “You know, a month or two ago, I’d have said Luke was. But by now I’m not so sure. Luke kinda shoots himself in the foot with a bazooka sometimes, if you know what I mean.”
Josie did. In the past, the same had been said about her.
“No wonder Luke got all bent out of shape when I started talking about his job at Blue Moon being almost over with.” She frowned, remembering their conversation. “He probably hasn’t saved up enough money for his mechanic’s shop yet. So he doesn’t want his job to be over with.”
“He definitely needs cashola,” TJ agreed.
“And there I was, practically rubbing his face in the fact that he’s running out of time.” It was so obvious. Josie couldn’t believe she hadn’t realized it before. “No wonder he didn’t want to talk about it.”
TJ gave a noncommittal sound.
His lack of enthusiasm for her theory didn’t bother Josie. Things were finally clicking together. Luke. Blue Moon. His hopes for the future, which were endangered by her being there—endangered by her dance school.
It was a mess, all right.
“I’m surprised Tallulah didn’t make some kind of accommodations for Luke to keep working here indefinitely. I mean, he is the handyman. It’s not his fault Tallulah decided to give the place away.”
“Yeah. Anyway, I should probably get back to fixing your Chevy. That starter’s a little tricky.”
“Do you think he’d take a job from me? I probably can’t match Tallulah’s salary, but I do have some money saved up—”
“No! Don’t offer Luke a job.” TJ looked uncomfortable, probably at having revealed any part of his friend’s secret. He shot a longing look toward her ailing car. “Men have, you know, pride. Luke won’t want pity.”
“It’s not pity, it’s practicality. He needs money. Before you know it, my dance school will be bringing in plenty.”
“Yeah. Right. Still…. Don’t say anything to Luke, okay? He’s, uh, sensitive about the situation with his dad. And he wouldn’t want you to know about his motorcycle mechanic’s shop plans. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll tell him I charmed it out of you.”
“No! Don’t tell him anything!”
“I’m kidding.” She gave TJ a teasing arm punch, feeling warmhearted toward him. In his own uncouth way, he’d tried to cheer her up—tried to help her. She appreciated that. “I won’t say anything. Luke’s secret is safe with me.”
Especially now that Josie knew the rest of the story—knew that pursuing her future had accidentally endangered his. She felt bad about that. It wasn’t something she’d seen coming, but now she could start fixing things. By contacting Tallulah, for instance, and finding out if she had another estate for Luke to work on. Or networking in town to see if the Donovan’s Corner Garage had any openings for mechanics. It could work.
Sure. It had to work. Because there was no way Josie could be happy if achieving her own dreams torpedoed Luke’s.
She glanced at TJ. He’d edged closer to her Chevy’s ailing engine, socket wrench in hand, looking as if he regretted their whole conversation. Thanks to him, though, Luke’s reluctance to confide his future plans felt entirely different to her now.
“You know, it’s kind of sweet, actually,” she mused. “You guys all think you have to be so tough for us, like Luke with his secret mechanic’s shop plans. When really, women don’t mind a little vulnerability. A little trust. A little faith.”
TJ shook his head. “Sure. You say that now. But it never turns out that way.”
“Of course it does.”
“Uh-uh,” TJ disagreed. “Women say they want all that crap. But then if we guys let our guard down for a minute—wham! You’re bailing out on us for a thick-necked jerk named Spike who bench-presses Buicks and smashes beer cans on his forehead.”
Josie laughed. “I think my friend Parker dated that guy.”
TJ looked vindicated. “See? Proves my point.”
“But she figured he was a fixer-upper. By the time Parker finished with him, Spike was picking out Chardonnay and wearing turtlenecks.”
“Whoa. That’s uncool.”
“Come on. Spike likes getting his eyebrows waxed now.”
“Hey.” He shot her a warning look. “Don’t make me regret telling you about Luke. I only did it because I thought you’d be good for him.”
“I will be,” Josie said seriously. “I promise.”
Then she gave TJ a hug and headed out the carriage house doors, ready to make her future and Luke’s merge—in the best way possible.
Chapter Fifteen
Over the next several days, Luke found himself busier than ever. First, with motorcycles. Second, with Ambrose. And third with Josie.
Word had gotten around about his carriage house “garage,” especially his expertise with vintage motorcycles, so he had all the repair work he could handle. His efforts to contact his aunt’s attorney continued, but his phone calls and e-mails went unanswered. And on top of everything else, he found every excuse to drive Josie to town on his Harley.
Doing so was an extra effort—and not strictly necessary, since TJ had already fixed the starter on her heap of a convertible—but it was worth it. Worth it for the feel of her plastered against him, hugging him from behind as they took the mountain curves. Worth it for her squeals of delight as he revved the engine. Worth it for the trust she gave him every time she climbed on his motorcycle.
Trust wasn’t something Luke took lightly. Not after what had happened with his father.
Josie’s mission to turn herself into Donovan’s Corner’s most respectable showgirl transplant wasn’t something she took lightly, either. Every day she climbed off his motorcycle and handed him his spare helmet. Every day she slicked back her hair—usually in a prim bun—and adjusted her baggy, buttoned-up clothes. Every day she told Luke she’d be fine.
“You don’t have to hang around. I can handle it.”
But every day, Luke stayed by her side anyway.
He was always glad he did. Because no matter what reputable activity she had planned—a charity drive, a networking lunch, or ordinary grocery shopping—some numbskull in town always felt compelled to badmouth her. That meant Luke needed to run interference….so his list of “injuries” grew. It wasn’t the best diversion, but it was all he had.
“I swear, Parker,” he heard Josie saying on her cell phone to her showgirl friend from Las Vegas, “it’s as if Luke’s gone klutzy or something. First that toe cramp at Hannah’s kindergarten, then a sprained thumb at the bank. And a pulled muscle after church, too. I don’t know what’s going on.”
Luke grinned. If he was lucky, she never would. If he was really lucky, people in town would quit dissing Josie before he was forced to dislocate a shoulder.
Unfortunately, though,
her campaign wasn’t that successful yet. Her dance school’s official debut loomed closer all the time, but the uptight residents of Donovan’s Corner didn’t seem ready to see Josie as anything but a scandal in the making.
Not that their die-hard skepticism stopped her. Undaunted, she outfitted herself in one dowdy getup after another. She carried a briefcase and baked cookies for the members of the Better Business Bureau—who seemed to grudgingly appreciate the gesture, if not the charbroiled results. She talked her heart out, tacked up flyers until her fingers ached, and tirelessly stumped for her dance school.
Her natural charm should have been enough. But if it wasn’t, Luke figured she had good odds of wearing down the naysayers through sheer stubbornness alone.
Overall, life was good. Josie didn’t ask him about the future again, and he didn’t volunteer the information. Why look a gift horse in the mouth? Instead, they simply spent their days together. They worked, they talked, they kissed. They ate cheeseburgers at Frank’s, raced along the pine forest back roads on his motorcycle, laughed over TJ’s cheesy kung-fu movie picks from the local video store.
Luke, despite knowing he shouldn’t, fell even harder for Josie. And the next time she danced, both he and TJ watched.
She was unbelievable. Lithe, limber, and dazzling in her precision. He’d never realized how much sheer athletic work went into dancing, but Josie made it look effortless. When she danced, she relaxed…and she came alive. As impossible as it seemed, Luke thought he’d never seen her look happier than while whirling in a series of complicated steps.
“Okay. That was my standard audition routine,” she announced, flushed and eager, when the first song ended. “This next bit is something I made up just for fun.”
While they watched, she performed again. She arched her back, she flung her arms in the air, she executed the trickiest moves with a smile. Somehow, even though Josie wore nothing but plain track pants and a tank top, she sparkled. Luke could almost see the spotlights and sequins and glitter. Or maybe that was just the natural glow all around her.
“Woo-hoo!” TJ yelled, applauding enthusiastically. He stuck his fingers in his mouth for a piercing wolf whistle. “Go, Josie! Go, Josie!”
“Cut it out.” Luke gave him a shove. “I’m not doing ‘the wave’ with you.”
“Buzzkill.”
But Josie only smiled wider, her body radiant with hard-earned sweat. She twirled to the other end of the ballroom to show them another move. Despite his grumblings to TJ, Luke couldn’t tear his gaze away. He thought she was magnificent.
Someone else did, too. Toward the end of that week, Josie earned her first student: her niece, Hannah.
Luke never would’ve credited Josie’s starchy sister, Jenna, with enough gumption to enroll her daughter in the town’s most notorious new dance school. Especially since doing so meant openly defying her posse of PTSO moms. But apparently rebel stubbornness genes ran in the family, because Jenna arrived at Blue Moon with baby Emily on one hip and Hannah’s hand in hers. She announced that dance class was in session.
“Go ahead, honey.” She nudged her daughter forward, then met Luke’s open surprise with a defiant tilt of her chin. “Hey, somebody’s got to start the stampede to this dance school.”
“Damned straight,” Luke agreed, approving.
Her loyalty touched him. It got to Josie, too, because she turned all weepy. Ten minutes of apology-filled hugging and blubbering passed (“No, I’m sorry!”) before both women pulled themselves together enough to get on with things. In the meantime, Luke and TJ were left to deal with Jenna’s befuddled offspring.
Luke wasn’t happy with the arrangement. For one thing, it potentially involved diaper changing. But by the time Jenna scooped a babbling, drooling Emily from his arms again, Luke had decided babies weren’t so bad after all. There was a lot to be said for a person who smiled that much. Especially when that person was toothless.
The lessons were on.
At five years old, Hannah was shy and a little pudgy. Her arms and legs flopped. Her brown bangs hung in her eyes. But even Luke—who didn’t know squat about kids—had to admit the girl was adorable. She bumbled into the ballroom, gawking at the crystal chandeliers overhead, wearing shorts and a T-shirt and a pair of padded knee socks.
“They’re her soccer socks,” he heard Jenna explain in an aside to Josie. “Hannah wanted some padding between her and the floor in case she fell down.” She leaned nearer, out of her daughter’s earshot. “She’s convinced she’ll fall. I’m afraid soccer hasn’t done much to improve her coordination.”
“That’s okay,” Josie said, shimmying toward Hannah. She wrapped her arm around the girl’s shoulders and gave her a sunny smile. “We’ll have fun, won’t we, kiddo?”
They seemed to. Especially judging by the expression on Hannah’s face when she emerged a half hour later, winded and disheveled—but ecstatic.
“Mom! Mom! I learned that new dance move! You know, the one I saw on TV!”
Jenna looked puzzled. “Which dance move?”
“The one in Britney’s video!” Hannah said. “Look!”
“One-two-three-four!” Josie said, cueing her.
Hannah performed a wobbly but decent series of steps while Josie kept time, the moves culminating in a hip thrust at the end—and a pouty over-the-shoulder look. It was vintage pint-sized sexpot, complete with a hair toss.
Jenna stared, openmouthed. “Uhhh…”
“Good, right, Mom?” Hannah asked breathlessly. She couldn’t have looked more thrilled with herself.
“It’s terrific. You nailed it!” Josie enthused. She gouged her elbows in Luke and TJ’s ribs to either side of her. “Look, these guys are speechless! Wasn’t it terrific, you two?”
“Awesome!” TJ said.
“Very dance-y,” Luke added. Ouch.
“Thank you, thank you!” Hannah jumped up and down. She seemed oblivious to her mother’s continued—stunned—silence. She twirled in place, her cheeks shining.
“Show your mom your other dance,” Josie encouraged.
“Okay!”
Hannah spun off to the center of the room. She assumed some sort of ready position, held her arms in a pose over her head, then took several tiptoed steps. She twirled again.
“It’s a movement from Swan Lake. Classical,” Josie explained. She beamed at her niece. “I like to start with something fun to catch a student’s interest—in this case, the Britney move—then move on to something more traditional.”
“Do it again! Do it again!” TJ yelled, enthralled.
They all gawked at him.
“Hey, I like ballet. Shoot me.”
With more encouragement, Hannah repeated the dance. Her movements—as obviously beginner as they were—actually held some sort of grace. It was a miracle, Luke thought. Like the Jets winning a playoff.
“Bravo!” came a voice from behind them. “Excellent!”
They all turned. Applauding, Nancy Day strode toward them in a yellow suit, high heels clacking, sunlight glinting from her jewelry. She must have let herself in, a ballsy move that didn’t surprise Luke. What did surprise him was the expression on her face. For the first time ever, she looked downright kind…and a little contrite.
“Grandma! Look! Look what I can do!” Hannah yelled.
Against all Luke’s expectations, the girl didn’t show off her Britney moves. Instead, she repeated the Swan Lake dance. He glanced at Josie, eyebrows raised, but she only shot him a pleased, knowing smile.
“Every girl has a little ballerina in her.”
He guessed so. Because now Hannah pirouetted all through the ballroom, hands overhead in an approximation of every cartoon ballerina he’d ever seen. Unlike Tom & Jerry, she looked pretty adept, even with those soccer socks on. He was impressed.
“That’s wonderful, Hannah,” Nancy Day called. “Good job!”
She glanced at Josie. Then frowned. “Don’t give me that look, Josie. I knew all along you’d make
a fine dance teacher.”
“Why, because I’m so bossy?”
“No.” A smile played around Nancy’s mouth. “Because you’re so talented. Now let’s see what you three have done to this place, shall we?”
She assumed the lead in a tour of the renovated mansion, covering the ground floor and then following the repaired staircase to the second floor. In every room, Nancy oooh-ed and aaah-ed over the changes Josie and Luke and TJ had made. She commented on the bathrooms’ honeycomb tile, on the gleaming mullioned windows, on the refurbished floorboards and wallpaper and paint and every other detail under the sun.
“Structurally, this place looks like a million bucks,” Nancy announced when they entered the kitchen. She leaned against the countertop beside Luke. “But aesthetically it’s missing something. Some sense of…hominess, I guess.”
“That’s because I haven’t put my personal stamp on it yet,” Josie told her. “Having this much space—for the first time in my life—is pretty overwhelming to deal with.”
“We decided to keep it neutral,” Luke agreed. “That way it’ll be easier to—”
Abruptly, he cut himself short.
Easier to sell the place later. It had been right on the tip of his tongue. Damn it. What was the matter with him? A person would think he wanted his secret out in the open. All this family togetherness—and all those Hallmark moments with Hannah and Emily—must have worn down his usual wariness.
“—easier to rent out some of the rooms in the east wing,” Josie finished for him, not looking up as she fiddled with the microwave. “Right, Luke?”
She slapped a nuked hot dog on a fluffy bun and slid it across the table to Hannah. The girl chowed down.
“You want to rent some of the rooms?” Nancy asked, seeming more interested by the minute.
“Yes,” Josie said, still bustling around. She filled the coffeemaker’s basket with Arabica beans, then added water and turned on the unit. “I mean, let’s face it. This place is too big for me, and I’ll probably need an income to tide me over until my dance school takes off.” At that, she smiled gratefully at her sister. “My savings aren’t going to last forever, and the renovation fund Tallulah gave me is just about tapped out.”
