Fifteen minutes later he stood in the hallway at Hope Presbyterian Church. The same hallway he’d run from weeks before. Class had already begun because he had spent too long in that parking lot arguing with himself.
He heard Amara’s voice, and this time instead of a threat, he heard it as a life preserver. Something tossed to help a drowning man. And he was definitely drowning – in functional illiteracy and love for this amazing and beautiful woman.
And it was time to tell her about both.
He sucked in a long breath and blew it out before stepping into the classroom. All eyes, including Amara’s, turned toward him.
“Ryan? What are you doing here? Is something wrong?”
Yes. Something was very wrong.
He nodded in her direction, then opened his mouth to speak. “I need to…because I…can’t…” Despite multiple rehearsals during the ride from the convenience store to the church, the words came with difficulty.
He swallowed once, twice and began again. “I’m…”
“It’s okay. I understand.” Her voice was low and calming. “Come in and have a seat.”
At the end of class, the other students filed out of the room while Ryan hung back in his seat near the rear of the room. He fingered the workbook Amara had given him, then flipped through the pages that might as well have been in a foreign language.
“I imagine it took a lot of courage for you to come in here tonight.” Amara’s voice was barely audible. “This explains a lot. And for what it’s worth, I’m proud of you for coming. After last weekend I wasn’t sure you’d ever speak to me again. And I surely didn’t expect you here.”
“Not speak to you? Why wouldn’t I? I thought you probably hated me for…you know.”
She sat across the table from him and folded her hands in front of her. For several minutes neither of them spoke.
“I guess we both kept secrets we shouldn’t have. I thought you didn’t want to join me at the café after the contest because of the diabetes. You wouldn’t be the first person to shy away from me because of it. Some people actually think they can catch it from me and—”
“Oh, no,” Ryan interrupted. “No. After I couldn’t help you at the contest I was too embarrassed to be around you. I actually came here a couple weeks ago to join the class and when I heard your voice I turned around and left for the same reason – embarrassment. But I can’t ignore it any more. I can’t risk another person paying a price for my pride. I hope you’ll let me stay.”
“For the class?” she asked.
Ryan reached across the table, grasped her hand and put it to his lips. He kissed her palm before clasping her hand between his two larger ones.
“Yeah. And for good.”
A puzzled look creased her forehead. “What do you mean? For good?”
“I mean, I hope we can either pick up from where we left off or even start all over again because I’m falling for you. Falling bad. And I hope I can make you feel the same about me.”
Her smile made his heart do flips in his chest.
“Of course you can stay in the class. And you don’t have to do anything to make me care for you.”
She paused, and Ryan’s heart went from flips to flops, thinking he had blown his chance with her.
“Because I already do.”
Epilogue
One year later
Ryan shuffled his feet against the wooden dance floor. The smooth surface stretched out before him, covering a section of beach at Casa Blanca Resort & Spa. At his side, Amara squeezed his hand.
“Deep breaths,” she whispered. “You’re going to be great.”
“Easy for you to say. You already know this dance. I’ve only had ten days of practice.”
“It’s not my fault you got that invitation from Elliott.”
The whirlwind trip had come about at the last minute. Elliott Becker had telephoned him five nights earlier with an invitation to join him on a flight to the west coast on Nate Ivory’s plane and attend the Home Run Derby and All-Star game.
The view from a sky box was terrific, but the invitation to visit both dugouts had been the highlight of the visit. Armed with what he had learned in Amara’s class, not to mention all the after-hours sessions they had, he had been able to travel without having to rely on anyone else to translate or decipher anything. Thanks to the prize money he had donated to Hope Presbyterian, the literacy program had doubled in size, with another expansion in the works.
Now he and Amara were participating in the exhibition dance segment of the second annual Dancing on the Sand competition. The other two couples in last year’s top three had already performed, and they were waiting to be announced. The Bucks’ own Ace Spade was reprising his role as emcee.
“And it’s not my fault you forced me to go, either.”
As they assumed their starting pose, Amara bracketed his face with both palms, and the wide gold band on her left hand felt cool against his cheek. “I did not force you to go. And let’s pay attention to the dance, okay? Relax. And breathe. And if all else fails, remember what I told you about the tango.
Ryan narrowed his eyes. “Tango on if you get all tangled up? But we’re not dancing the tango this time.”
This year, instead of the lusty dance they had performed the year before, they had been assigned the waltz, the dance of love - appropriate since they were deeply in love and celebrating three months of marriage.
Before she could reply, Ace’s voice boomed over the PA system. “Dancing the waltz, is last year’s second place team, Ryan Kidd and his lovely partner, Amara Perez.”
Ryan threw back his head and howled. “Yo, Ace! She’s a Kidd now, too.” He held up Amara’s hand and the band glinted in the spotlight. The crowd applauded, and Amara blushed.
“Let’s get this dance out of the way, okay?” he whispered in her ear. “Because when it’s over, I’m going to waltz you right out of here and into that villa Elliott Becker is letting us use for the weekend. And we can do a little dancing on that king-size—”
“Dance like nobody’s watching. That’s what I told you.”
A year ago he’d been there to impress the judges. This year?
“I’m only dancing for you, sweetheart. You’re the only judge I’ll ever need. The only one.”
About the Author
After discovering romance novels quite by accident, Marilyn revived an interest in writing. Since 2006 she's had nearly 50 short stories and feature articles published in the confessions and romance magazines, and in 2013 she sold her first book. She is an active member of Romance Writers of America and her local RWA chapter, Heart of Dixie Romance Writers. Her involvement on the local and national levels has combined to give her a great love of the romance genre as well as developing friendships that span the globe.
In addition to reading and writing, Marilyn loves watching TV crime dramas, cooking for one and gardening in a few pots on her patio. She justifies all those TV hours by having a crochet hook in her hand and creating hats and scarves for the homeless. Her motto is “Have passport, will travel,” and she is always ready to add another location to the list of 32 states and 21 foreign countries she has visited.
A native of North Carolina, Marilyn arrived in Huntsville, Alabama by way of Frankfurt, Germany. She has lived in Alabama longer than anywhere else and calls it home. She raised two great sons and now loves to dote on her two terrific granddaughters, a task made easier by her recent retirement from the day job.
Sign up for Marilyn’s newsletter
to learn about new releases, special events and other author news,
or connect with Marilyn online!
Facebook
Street Team
Twitter
Instagram
Other Works by Marilyn Baxter
Better as a Memory
Tea for Two
Direct Deposit
Picture This
Barefoot Bay Kindle World: When You Touch Me
Heart o
f Stone
Dancing on the Sand Page 9
