by LuAnn McLane
“Should I wear a cup?”
Ava frowned. “A cup?”
“Never mind. Got it. Well, I guess we should get started.”
“Oh, um . . .” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “I’m afraid we’re just about out of time.”
“Huh?” Jesse shook his head and Ava felt heat creep into her cheeks. “We haven’t even started dancing.”
Ava lifted one shoulder. “I have a class beginning pretty soon. I, uh, didn’t think you’d stay very long,” Ava admitted.
“Are you serious or just trying to get rid of me?”
Ava gave him another little shrug but winced. Everything about this first meeting was going horribly wrong—namely, the fact that he was still standing there looking put off but sexy as hell. She wondered if he’d be angry at her for having wasted his time; in truth, he had the right to be seriously pissed.
“I’m guessing both.”
“I’m . . . sorry.” Ava nibbled on her bottom lip. She watched Jesse tilt his head to the side as if considering how to respond. Her stomach did a funny little drop and she reluctantly acknowledged that if he did decide to quit, she’d be relieved on some levels but disappointed on others, and that spelled danger.
Jesse finally sighed. “You don’t have to apologize, Ava. I get that you were sort of forced into having a hip-hop dancer rather than a seasoned ballroom dancer for this, and that’s not really fair to you either. Obviously, it’s going to take a lot more instruction for you to teach the dance steps to me rather than to someone else who’s been professionally trained.”
Ava shrugged, wondering how much of her personal life he knew about. “No, this is all my fault. I didn’t behave very professionally. I want you to know that’s not like me at all.” She wondered how she could explain that the main reason she’d wanted him gone was not because of his lack of ballroom experience, but because she was insanely attracted to him. Just having him say her name sent a little thrill down her spine.
“Look, don’t take this the wrong way . . .”
“In my experience, whenever someone says that, I pretty much know something I won’t like is coming.” Ava sighed.
“Instead of being so stressed about this event, why don’t you just kick back and have fun with it? I mean, I know we’re being judged, but because I’m not a ballroom dancer, it kinda takes some of the pressure off, right? This is for charity, after all.”
Ava frowned, not knowing how to respond. He made a good point, but she wasn’t ready to give in.
“And I might not be able to do a perfect tango, but I know how to memorize a routine.” Jesse bestowed that smile on her again. “I’ve done it more than a couple of times.”
“I know you have.” Ava inhaled a deep breath, wondering if she should address the kiss again, but she just couldn’t muster up the courage.
“So then, are you still determined to run me off?” He took a step closer and her heart thudded.
“I . . . guess not quite as determined.”
“Not exactly what I was hoping for.”
Ava glanced at the clock. She really didn’t want him to be here when her students arrived.
“But I guess I’ll take it,” Jesse added.
Ava gave him a small smile. Although she wasn’t famous in the way that Jesse Heart was, she was well-known in the world of professional ballroom dancing. Her new position teaching at a rather small school in a quaint seaside town was well worth the loss of her usual city salary for the added privacy, although she knew that even here she was fodder for gossip. She understood that people knew her fiancé had dumped her for another woman who happened to be a rival dancer back in Chicago, adding insult to injury in a public and painful way. Dancing with a famous boy-band heartthrob wasn’t the best way to keep her life on the down low.
“So?”
“Okay then, we can begin again tomorrow morning,” Ava finally said. “The most important thing is raising money for the school, and I realize having you onboard will help a lot. It’s just that it’ll take a lot more work, since you don’t have formal ballroom dance training.”
“I know.”
“You have to be serious.”
“Ah, I struggle with that one.”
“So I’ve heard.” Ava knew the personalities of Jesse and his brothers, or at least what they presented to the public.
Jesse shrugged but then shot her a grin. “It’s part of my charm.”
Ava had a difficult time not smiling back. “And one more thing.”
Jesse raised his eyebrows.
Ava cleared her throat. “About the kiss?”
“Yeah?”
“It can’t happen again, understood? I need your word on that.”
Jesse gave her a level look and nibbled on his lip. He opened his mouth as if to answer, but the door burst open and several laughing, chattering students rushed into the room, pulling up short when they spotted Jesse. Mouths dropped open and a couple of squeals penetrated the sudden silence. Although this group of students would have been grade-school age when Heartbeat was popular, they clearly knew Jesse’s identity. Cell phones appeared, aimed and ready for pictures. Great.
Ava decided to just roll with it. “Ladies, I want you to meet Jesse Heart. He’s graciously agreed to be my dance partner for the upcoming dance competition aimed at raising funds for the center.” Ava swept a hand in Jesse’s direction and he gave the girls his killer smile.
“Can we take some selfies?” Courtney, always outgoing, asked.
Ava glanced at Jesse.
“Ladies, I don’t want to disrupt your class,” Jesse said, and smiling faces fell.
Ava barely avoided doing an eye roll. “Look, we can take one group photo with Jesse and I’ll send it in a group message. That will have to do.” Although there was a collective group grumble, they nodded, vying for front-row positions when Jesse walked over to join them. He was a good sport, posing for several shots before giving them a wave. “Happy dancing,” he said, giving the girls a charming smile.
Jesse looked Ava’s way when he reached the door. “See you tomorrow.” He gave her a little salute.
Ava nodded and then turned back to her class.
“You’re so lucky,” hair-twirling Jenny gushed. “Jesse Heart is super hot.” All the girls nodded in agreement.
“It’s a professional thing,” Ava said, wanting to make it clear that there wasn’t anything between her and the sexy Heart brother. “Okay.” She briskly changed the subject. “Let’s stretch.” Although she excelled in ballroom dancing, Ava also taught freestyle interpretive dancing. She loved the creative process and the freedom that was so different from the strict rules of ballroom dancing. But today, because her mind kept drifting to Jesse, the class seemed to last forever.
Once the girls were gone, Ava dabbed at the sheen of sweat on her face. She unpacked her light lunch and then settled in at her desk in her small office to work on the choreography for the three dances she would be performing with Jesse. She tried to concentrate, but her traitorous thoughts kept going back to the kiss. She told herself that her intense reaction stemmed from the lack of romance in her life. Seriously, how long had it been since she’d been kissed?
Way too long, she thought, unable to stop the idea from bouncing around her brain. Maybe it was time to stop allowing the pain inflicted upon her by Anthony to rule her life. Why should he have that power?
The answer was simple: he shouldn’t.
Perhaps she shouldn’t have insisted that the kiss from Jesse couldn’t be repeated. “No,” Ava whispered aloud, reminding herself that she should remain professional. The last thing she needed was more gossip about her love life. But maybe she should be grateful that Jesse had reawakened her desire for a man’s touch. After all, she was by nature a sensual person—that was one of the reasons she adored ballroom dancing. The passion, the tug-of-war between the sexes, and the story that a dance told were what had drawn her to dancing in the first place.
And oh, h
ow she missed making love.
Ava closed her eyes and groaned. After a moment of reliving her kiss with Jesse, she tapped her spoon on the side of the yogurt carton she was holding and let her mind go where she knew it shouldn’t. Ava pursed her lips. She’d thought she’d been good in bed when she was with her fiancé. She enjoyed sex and had rarely turned Anthony down, so he hadn’t had any reason to complain or look elsewhere.
Or had he?
Ava’s heart started to pound and she placed a hand to her chest. Wait, maybe she only thought she was a good lover. Dear God, was she boring in the sack? She absentmindedly took a bite of her yogurt. But then her eyes widened and she had difficulty swallowing the bits of strawberry. She and Anthony had been together for five years and she’d never strayed, so maybe she sucked and didn’t know it. Ava squinted while she thought back to her love life before Anthony, but because she’d been consumed with her dance career, she hadn’t dated much before him.
Frowning, Ava squeezed the plastic carton hard, angry with herself for wasting her time on self-pity. She’d analyzed their relationship too many times already, often wondering if he’d cheated the entire time. She’d suspected, but Anthony was a smooth talker, and Ava tended to believe in people.
Still deep in thought, Ava polished off the rest of the yogurt and then licked the spoon.
And then . . . a small, naughty voice in her head whispered: Maybe having a steamy love affair with Jesse Heart is just what you need to get over Anthony Grecco for good. She licked her bottom lip, considering the possibility before giving herself a mental shake. No, she needed to stick to no guys, no romance, no sex, until she felt completely healed. She wouldn’t shed any more tears over someone who didn’t deserve it.
Proud of her decision, she opened her laptop and started making notes for the dance competition. But as she imagined performing a sensual tango, thoughts of a certain boy-band hottie kept interrupting her concentration. “Jesse Heart.” Ava sighed. She sat back in her chair and tapped her fingernails on the desktop. Maybe she should give in to her desire for him? Jesse sure seemed willing . . . no . . . yes . . . damn! “Ugh.”
Ava disliked indecision. Up until Anthony had broken her heart, she’d lived her life with confidence, rarely questioning her instincts. But then Ava shook her head and let out a mirthless chuckle. Instincts? Who was she kidding? She’d been horribly wrong about Anthony, even though she’d trusted him completely.
Pinching her fingers to the bridge of her nose, she then glanced at her cell phone. The urge to call her mother had her fingers inching toward her phone, but then she pulled back. Her mother had disliked Anthony from the beginning, warning Ava that she simply couldn’t trust him. “There’s something in his eyes,” her mother had said in her thick Italian accent. “He’s too slick, too smooth, Ava Concetta.” She tapped her chest. “I feel it here,” she’d added, looking to Ava’s father for support. “Thomas, back me up on this! It’s your daughter’s life we’re talking about!”
“Sophia, it’s not our place to decide who our Ava marries,” her father had responded simply, but looking back on it, Ava could tell that her father wasn’t sold on Anthony Grecco either.
Unfortunately, Ava had taken her mother’s dire warning with a grain of salt—perhaps because she’d wanted to prove her wrong. She glanced at her cell phone again and sighed, but her damned pride got in the way of picking it up.
After analyzing what had gone wrong, Ava had wondered if her relationship with Anthony was based more on dancing than on love from the very beginning. After all, they’d been paired together at a dance class, praised by the instructor for being sheer perfection together. Dating had seemed like a natural progression after they’d started traveling from competition to competition.
With a groan, Ava leaned her elbows on the desk and held her head in her hands. Anthony had complained that their passion didn’t carry over from the dance floor to the bedroom and had gone so far as to video them making love to prove his point. Ava had been horrified that he’d made the video without her approval, and she’d demanded that he delete it. Even if their love life was somehow lacking, that didn’t give Anthony the right to cheat, to humiliate her. So, after years of countless hours of practice, Ava had made the choice to leave the world of competitive ballroom dancing and simply teach.
The round clock on the wall indicated that her lunch hour was nearly over. Her next class was a low-impact fitness dance class for senior citizens that she thoroughly enjoyed. Most of them showed up in old-school leotards and leggings and were full of wisecracks and laughter— they were worse than teenagers. Ava would give up on discipline during the class and allow herself an hour of fun.
After tossing her trash into the garbage bin, Ava pushed back from her desk. And just like that, an image of Jesse Heart popped into her brain. She thought again of their toe-curling kiss and nearly groaned . . . and then she sat up straight when a thought hit her so hard that she sucked in a breath. Kissing Anthony Grecco had never curled her toes.
Ava shook her head, trying to dislodge the interesting yet disturbing thought about Anthony verses Jesse. Wait, no, her toe-curling reaction had to stem from the fact that she hadn’t been kissed in forever. Pent-up passion had to be the culprit, along with her tainted memory of Anthony. One of the most difficult parts of her breakup with Anthony had been where to put the memories that had been happy—or so they had been before his cheating had ruined them forever.
And yet . . . curiosity bumped around in her brain. Of course, Jesse Heart was incredibly sexy, she reasoned, so melting into the kiss was a normal response. Yeah, that had to be it . . . a purely physical reaction, nothing more, and certainly not to be repeated. Ever. Any passion between them would be left on the dance floor.
Ava dusted her hands together. There, now that she had that decision out of the way, she could have fun with her next dance class.
CHAPTER THREE
STEP UP
Jesse backed away from Ava and threw his hands up in surrender. “You’re going too fast again.”
“The Argentine tango is eight basic steps,” Ava replied in a patient tone that grated on Jesse’s frayed nerves. “You get tangled up when you step on the outside and cross me. Just do it without thinking so much.”
“I’m afraid I’ll trip you.”
“Let’s try again.”
“We’ve tried it a million times over this past week and I’m still messing up. Can’t we do another dance? Something less complicated? Less dramatic?”
“You’ll get the hang of it,” Ava said, but he could still hear the frustration in her voice. “And sorry, but ballroom dancing is full of drama.”
“I need a drink of water.”
“Okay, sure, stay hydrated or you might cramp up.” Ava nodded briskly and pointed to a small fridge at the back of the room. “There’s also Gatorade, if you prefer.”
“Thanks.”
“Don’t be long. I have a class coming soon and we have some serious work to do.”
“Thank you, Captain Obvious.” Jesse waved a hand over his head as he walked across the polished dance floor. He jerked open the small fridge door so hard that everything inside clanged together. He spotted her ultra-healthy organic lunch and his stomach growled. Having skipped breakfast as usual, he was so hungry that even her nonfat yogurt looked enticing. Well . . . almost. He spotted a purple Gatorade and pulled it from the shelf, reaching at the same time for the cell phone he’d set in a small basket on top of the fridge to see if he had any messages.
“And don’t cheat and check your cell phone,” Ava called over to him. “I want you to maintain your concentration.”
Jesse inched his fingers toward the phone, but when she cleared her throat he pulled his hand back and sighed. Realizing it would be rude to flip her off, Jesse merely nodded while he unscrewed the lid off the Gatorade. Maintaining concentration was Jesse’s enemy. Not only did he get easily distracted by, well, basically everything, but Ava’s sexy dance atti
re and the floral scent of her perfume were driving him nuts, especially since the Argentine tango required him to have her in a close hold. The struggle was real.
Adding to the challenge, Jesse was a visual learner. When Arabella showed him the dance moves for Heartbeat, he could watch and learn. But dancing with Ava as a partner and learning the dance steps in real time was altogether different. Worrying about his posture while trying to remember the steps had him constantly tied in knots. This ballroom dance thing was just damned confusing. And rehearsing at seven o’clock in the morning before her classes began was just sheer torture. How could his brain function with only two cups of coffee? Who in the hell could do the tango this early in the morning?
Jesse chugged the cold Gatorade so fast that he got brain freeze. With a groan, he wondered what he’d gotten himself into and tossed the empty bottle into the recycling bin with more force than necessary. They’d been at it for nearly two hours, and Jesse didn’t feel as if he knew the basic steps much better than he had a week ago. He blew out a sigh, plucked at his sweaty shirt, and then finally walked back over to where Ava stood waiting—calm, cool, and gorgeous as always.
“Okay, then.” Ava lifted her eyebrows and raised her chin. “Ready?”
No, he wasn’t ready. “As I’ll ever be.” Jesse rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the mounting tension. “Aren’t there some instructional videos I could watch, or something?”
Ava tilted her head to the side, making her long, dark ponytail slip over her shoulder. That silky hair of hers kept hitting his shoulder, brushing his cheek . . . basically driving him crazy all morning. “I thought you were a hands-on learner?”
Jesse swallowed hard, thinking he sure as hell wanted to get his hands on . . . her. He shrugged. “I thought so too,” he said glumly, shoving his fingers through his damp hair.
Ava frowned. “Look, as soon as you have the eight basic steps down, I can add some bling.”
