Why Don’t You Stay? … Forever: McLaughlin Brothers, Book 2

by Ashley Jennifer

  Reuben dances well, better than I’ve ever witnessed him do. He never misses a step, his entrechat—jumping up straight and switching his feet back and forth in midair—makes him look light and floating, as though gravity doesn’t apply to him. Whenever he has to catch me, he does it without a slip. He holds me like a rock for my deep arabesques, and his spins are fast and perfect.

  We finish with what’s called a fish dive—both my legs point back up in the air, with my chest forward and my arm extended to the floor, while Reuben supports me via his thigh and arm with seeming effortlessness.

  It’s an elegant pose, and a trusting one. If he drops me, I’ll land flat on my face and possibly be injured.

  We pull it off without a hitch, thus ending the first half of the show.

  The crowd explodes into a standing ovation. Reuben takes his bows without apology, and he gestures to me, giving me full dues. The applause comes on even stronger.

  When the curtain closes, Reuben drops my hand and bolts from the stage. I follow more slowly to catch my breath. I need to keep my energy high for the second half.

  I find Reuben in the hall behind the stage talking to guys in suits I don’t recognize. They have dancers’ builds, but I can tell they stopped dancing a while ago. Probably are ballet connoisseurs now.

  Ben enters from the stage wings, and I smile at him. My heart always lightens when I see him coming.

  “Here’s Erin,” Reuben is saying.

  The men in suits turn to me. Reuben is smiling like a maniac, and the men greet me with interest.

  “Your talent is amazing,” one says to me. “Congratulations. Have you thought about taking it to a larger company? Say in Los Angeles?”

  “Not really,” I say. “I like dancing with Clarice.”

  Reuben grabs my hand and pulls me to his side, ignoring Ben. “She’s modest, I told you.”

  “Well, you two make an awesome pair,” says the second guy. “Reuben is trying to convince us to extend the offer to you, and we told him we’d have to see you perform first. But wow. He’s right.”

  “Offer?” I shake free of Reuben and move to Ben, who’s beside me like a rock.

  The suits look blank. “He didn’t tell you?” asks the first guy.

  “Wanted it to be a surprise,” Reuben says to me quickly. “So you wouldn’t be disappointed if they weren’t interested.”

  Ben rumbles from beside me, “Disappointed about what?”

  “We’re recruiting Reuben,” the second guy says. “Or trying to. He’s got feelers out, he says, but we spotted him first.” He sounds proud.

  “Recruiting?” I glance from one face to the other—the two suit guys excited, Ben scowling, Dean, who is hovering on the edge of the conversation, furious, and Reuben, both triumphant and shamefaced.

  The first suit pulls a card from his pocket and hands it to me. “This is us. We’re not the biggest company in L.A., but we’re well known and award-winning. All the best talent wants to dance with us. We’ve decided to sign Reuben, but you’d fit in well, Erin. Consider it.”

  The card reads Giles Hutton, President, Central Los Angeles Premier Ballet.

  I stare at Reuben, the light dawning. “This is why you wanted to have a bigger part in the show …”

  Because he knew these guys were coming, knew they had the potential to offer him a job. So he could kick the dust of Clarice’s company off his feet, as he’s always wanted to, after using it to make him look good.

  It’s why he’s been so nice to me, why he sucked up to Ben to talk me in to dancing with him. Why he’s been the model professional dancer all week. The smarmy varmint.

  “You—”

  Ben cuts me off. “That’s great, man,” he says to Reuben. “Congratulations.”

  I gape at him, and so does Dean.

  “We’re thrilled,” second suit guy says. “Well, we’ll leave you to get on with it. See you after the show, Barrow.”

  Reuben nods to them, shaking their hands. They shake my hand too, the second man squeezing it. “Think about it.” He winks, then moves on.

  The three of us are left with Reuben. We face him in silence, watching Reuben grow red under his makeup.

  Reuben lifts his hands defensively. “Hey, I need the job. I’m not getting stuck in this hellhole the rest of my life.”

  Sounds much more like the Reuben I know.

  Dean advances on him. “You little prick. You used Erin to make yourself look good—anyone who dances with her does. She knows how to make you shine. I should break your legs—then no more dancing for you, boyo.”

  Reuben takes a worried step back. Dean is about to follow, but Ben stops him.

  “No. It’s all good.” Ben gives Dean a hard look, as if saying, Work with me. “I’m glad for you, Reuben. You go kick ass in L.A.”

  Reuben, preening at the sudden support, sends Dean a lofty glance. “I will. Now I have costume change. See you onstage.”

  “The shit …” Dean begins as Reuben hurries away.

  I’ve caught on to what Ben’s doing, and I relax. “No, let him go,” I say. “He’s an asshole and a user and always will be, but if we go with it, then he’ll be an asshole user in another state.”

  “Damn straight,” Ben says. He twines his fingers through mine.

  Dean’s face smooths out. “Ah, I get it.” He points at Ben and chuckles. “You’re crafty. Great. I’ll go help him pack.”

  He takes off down the hall, leaving me relatively alone with Ben.

  Ben turns to me, his gaze pinning me until my heart starts fluttering. “What?” I whisper.

  He leans closer. “I want to kiss you. All over. And not stop.”

  “I’d smear my makeup on you,” I say softly.

  “Don’t care.” Ben releases my hand and takes a deliberate step back. “I should go. You still have half a show to do.” He grins. “Make sure Dean doesn’t trip Reuben up there.”

  “I will. I want him gone.” I move to Ben and kiss his cheek, leaving a scarlet streak on it.

  I want to say, I love you, Ben, but I turn away, running on light feet to my dressing room.

  * * *

  Ben

  When I return to my seat, Ryan informs me I have a swipe of lipstick on my cheek, but I have more important things to care about right now. Ryan gives me a bolstering half-hug and lets me go, knowing what’s to come.

  It’s show time.

  Chapter Eleven

  Ben

  The second half of the performance passes without me noticing much of it. I’ve seen the show several times now, and I note more places where they’ve changed things to add Reuben.

  Dean, I can tell, is pissed off at him. The dance where Dean’s supposed to be aggressive to Reuben is believable. Reuben shrinks from him, and I don’t think he’s acting.

  Mostly I’m only interested in Erin. She’s gliding around the stage as though she’s air itself. At one point she’s on tiptoe, spinning and spinning, one leg bent then kicking out, bent then out. Austin elbows me.

  “Doesn’t she get dizzy?” he murmurs.

  “She knows what she’s doing,” I growl at him.

  “She’s awesome.” Austin’s admiration softens my irritation.

  She is awesome. Beautiful. Kind. Funny. Generous. I know I’m madly in love with her. Have been for a while.

  The show ends with Erin’s finale with Dean. They put everything they have into it tonight, and when Erin finishes with her graceful bow, the theater comes apart. Everyone’s on their feet cheering her, Dean, the company, even Reuben. Dean brings out Clarice, who gets her own applause, and flowers are carried to the stage, including a bouquet from me and one from my family.

  The curtain should be coming down, but Dean shakes his head at the guy who works the curtain, and it stays open.

  That’s my cue. As Erin shoots Dean a puzzled look, I leave my seat and push my way to the aisle.

  Of my family, only Ryan knows what I’m doing. He gives me a thump on the back a
s I pass him. The rest of the family watches me in perplexity and some annoyance. I think I’ve stepped on Zach’s toes.

  Dean hurries on strong feet to the edge of the stage and escorts me up onto it. Erin gives us both a what-the-hell? stare. The rest of the dancers and Clarice pause, curious.

  As I approach Erin, Dean makes a sharp signal to someone in the wings, and music begins to play out of the sound system. The audience, who are slowly filing out, turn back to the stage in surprise.

  I take Erin’s hands. The song playing is the one we’d danced to at the club, where she’d showed me how even a guy with two left feet could enjoy the music. I grin at her and start to move.

  Erin resists at first, then she shakes her head in bemusement and starts to dance with me. We do the arm-to-arm thing where she floats from one side of me to the other, and we finish up with her spinning around me.

  She cups my face as she had at the club, and I sink down on one knee.

  The music fades, Dean signaling as we’d discussed. I remain on one knee, taking Erin’s hands.

  “You’re beautiful,” I tell her, then I raise my voice so it will carry to the back of the theater.

  “Erin Dixon, will you marry me?”

  Erin’s mouth pops open. Her eyes are outlined in up-swooping strokes, her lips with the curves of a happy woodland creature. Her makeup wars with her real face, which is tight with shock.

  The audience is holding its breath. Austin’s “Whoa …” becomes lost in the rustle of expectation.

  Erin’s hands are cold in mine, in spite of her pulse pounding against my fingers. Her chest moves rapidly, her breath fast.

  She’s going to say no. I swallow, my blood turning to ice. She’ll withdraw, shake her head, and walk away, and that will be that.

  Erin closes her mouth, then her lips part again.

  “Yes,” she whispers. Then, “Yes!” She shouts it loud.

  As I nearly fall on my ass in relief, Erin is on my lap, her arms flung around me. She kisses me fervently, no worry about smearing me with makeup now.

  The cheering and applause surge as I hold Erin close, her body on mine. Our mouths meet in kisses that turn deep, intense. We’re holding each other hard, ignoring the shrieks and happy cries from our family and friends.

  The sounds become strangely muffled, and finally, Erin raises her head. The curtain has closed, turning the stage into a stuffy tent with a rosin-dotted floor and cardboard scenery.

  Erin slides from my lap to her feet and holds my hands while I stand.

  “I love you,” I say to her.

  Erin puts her arms around me again, resting her head on my shoulder. Tears streak her cheeks, becoming sooty puddles on her chin.

  “I love you, Ben. I do so much.”

  I hold her, and nothing else matters.

  As soon as we ease apart, knowing we have to leave the stage sometime, Dean is beside us.

  “That was wonderful.” He wipes his eyes. “Look, you made me cry like a big galoot.”

  I hold out my hand. “Thanks for your help.” I’d had to recruit Dean, or I couldn’t have pulled this off. He’s kept the secret well.

  Erin blinks, and Dean grabs me and squeezes me in a huge bear hug. As I gasp for breath, he releases me and seizes Erin in turn.

  “Dean—” Erin’s voice cuts off as Dean squashes her, and she rocks when he lets her go. “You were in on this?”

  “Sure.” Dean grins. “The look on your face …” His eyes screw up and he swipes at them with the back of his hand. “Here I go again. You two are coming to the after party—don’t you dare try not to. Drinks are on me.”

  He charges down the hall, a force of nature. That’s Dean.

  I take Erin’s hands again. “Thank you for not saying no.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Erin pulls me to her. “I think I need to show you how much I wouldn’t say no.”

  I warm inside, my worries falling away. “Sounds like something I’ll enjoy.”

  “Me too.”

  Clattering feet and voices let us know it will be a while before Erin and I can celebrate on our own. Falling in love and taking that love to til-death-us-do-part makes us a piece of something larger than ourselves.

  “Here they come,” I say, as my brothers, their ladies, and my parents surge toward us, my Great Aunt Mary’s new guy escorting her up the stairs. “My family.”

  “My family too now,” Erin says with a sunny smile. “Which is no bad thing.”

  They’re around us, all talking at once. Ryan is smug—he’s the one who helped me figure out the grand gesture. Mom has her arms outstretched, the happiest I’ve ever seen her. Now she’s hugging Erin like she’ll never let go. Erin is passed around, and I lose track of her.

  But it’s all right. She’ll be there when I need her. We are us now.

  * * *

  Erin

  Somehow we make it through the after-party and all the toasts, the McLaughlins coming along, no gathering complete without them. I talk, smile, and laugh until I’m exhausted.

  Even Reuben is congratulatory. I’m still annoyed with him for using me—again—but that anger has been swallowed by my present happiness. Reuben acts contrite, and genuinely glad for Ben and me, but I’m relieved he’ll once more be gone from my life.

  Dean gets drunk off his ass and gives me a big kiss on the mouth. He tries to give Ben one too, but Ben manages to evade him. Dean laughs as though he’s never had so much fun.

  It’s very late before Ben and I break away and head home. Virginia hugs me one more time before I go.

  “Welcome to the family, honey,” she says. “I’m so happy I could spit. But I won’t.” She pulls me aside and lowers her voice. “I meant to announce this tonight, as a surprise, but Ben upstaged me, so I’ll just tell you. I called the temp agency on Friday and said I wanted you permanently—you’ll now be working directly for us. That is, if you still want the job.”

  I stare at her in astonishment, then I do a spontaneous leap. “Yes!” I shout. My job is perfect—it’s low-stress and lets me focus on dance, and I enjoy being part of the McLaughlins’ business. “You’re wonderful. Thank you.”

  I must have had a little too much of the champagne Alan splurged on, because I’d never have gushed that way to my boss otherwise. Virginia laughs and hugs me again.

  When Ben and I finally reach my house, all is quiet. Ben halts his truck in my driveway, and we sit still for a time, reveling in the silence.

  “Want me to go?” Ben asks softly. “It’s been a big night. I understand if you’re overwhelmed—”

  I haul myself across the seat and crush his lips to mine. “Stay,” I murmur. His answering smile is all I need.

  We finally go inside, kissing as soon as the door is closed. We kiss in the foyer, the living room, and then down the hall to the bedroom. My aunt smiles from her picture on the mantel, happy for us too.

  We kiss in the bedroom, and shed our clothes. Soon we’re on my bed, wrapped in each other, bathed in moonlight.

  “Sure you don’t want me to go home?” Ben jokes as he slides inside me, my world opening and flooding me with euphoria.

  “No.” I groan the word, and hold him close. “Please stay. Forever …”

  “I can do that.”

  Our words drift away—no more need for speech.

  I’m with Ben, the man I love. We come together in a perfect dance, two partners well matched as we float away on love, happiness, and an effervescent wave of pleasure.

  Epilogue

  One month later

  Austin

  I know she’ll be here. I’m bracing for it, but when I walk into the church for Abby and Zach’s wedding rehearsal and see the beautiful woman in the tight blue dress, my tongue gets stuck in my throat.

  Brooke Marsh. My ex.

  The sheath dress shows off her legs, bare for the June heat. Her arms, which used to wrap languidly around me, are likewise bare. Her black hair is long and sleek, hanging in a satin swat
h halfway down her back, complementing her dark eyes.

  Brooke greets me cordially, even as a tightening around her mouth betrays her tension. What we had together was a long time ago, and we’ve both moved on. Right?

  Sure.

  I’m a groomsman for Zach, and Brooke is a bridesmaid for Abby. Fortunately we aren’t slated to walk out together after the ceremony—my brother and soon-to-be sis-in-law are more shrewd than that. No trying to slyly pair us up—I’ll be escorting Cheri, another of Abby’s friends.

  The rehearsal begins soon after I arrive, the minister taking us through the process. Mom looks like she wants to cry, but bears up. She’s had Ryan married off, now Zach, and in the fall, it’ll be Ben. The youngest son, me, is the only one still unattached.

  We go to dinner afterward at a nearby restaurant. Mom won’t let me skip it, so I show up. Besides, I want to support Zach.

  I’m gallant to Abby’s friend Cheri, who I can tell is not interested in me other than as her friend’s new brother-in-law. Brooke, paired up with Zach’s friend Nate, laughs, flicking back her smooth hair in the way I remember so well. A little pain starts in my chest, and it’s not from the stuffed jalapeños.

  I manage to avoid being one-on-one with Brooke until the dinner is breaking up. The restaurant has a courtyard with a fountain, a cool space after the sun goes down. I step out to catch my breath, believing the courtyard empty.

  I hear a rustle, and there’s Brooke, rising hastily from an iron bench where she’s been sitting under a spread of oleander. The heavy scent from the blossoms blends with the night.

  We face each other. Brooke is as beautiful as I remember. I try to recall the bad times with her, the arguments, the wild words, the raw impatience.

  But all I can think of is how hot we’d been together.