So the Heart Can Dance (A Hidden Beauty Novel Book 2)

by Mary Crawford

  As we scramble to our feet, Tara looks thoroughly confused. “Of course I’m okay. It’s not like I’m made of glass or anything. We’re not even climbing rocks yet. That barely counts as a fall.”

  I hold up my thumb for her to see the blood that’s quickly drying. “See, you’re bleeding. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” I explain as I pull pine needles out of her hair.

  “Aidan, I don’t even think this counts as being hurt. I’ve done worse damage just by sneezing. Will you please just relax so we can have some fun? I’m beginning to miss the whoopee cushions. Despite what it looks like, I am a big girl and I can take care of myself,” Tara asserts.

  I hook my fingers in her belt loops. Honestly, I would really like to let them roam elsewhere. From our impromptu getting-to-know-you session. I know that she’s hiding some very nice curves on that tall, athletic frame. I would love to confirm my findings with more research. So I pull her a few inches closer, I lean down, and I murmur in her ear, “I know you can do it by yourself, but what if you didn’t have to? I’d like to be on Team Tara.”

  What if I don’t have to do it all on my own? That’s a concept I can’t even wrap my brain around. I’ve been on my own for so long. I am not sure I can process what that would mean. After my dad died, my mom was there physically, but her heart and mind were already gone in search of my dad. What would it mean, if I could lean on someone else for a change?

  My heart hammers as I think about the implications. The grown-up version of Aidan is incredibly hot and much to my surprise, when I was in his arms, fear was not my first response. I felt comfort, security, and the thrill of desire. Only after that comes the usual dose of apprehension. I’m used to my heart pounding and my hands sweating in the presence of men, but with Aidan, I feel like a flock of wild butterflies has taken up residence in my stomach. These feelings are new and different, and terrifying on a whole new level.

  Suddenly, he pulls me closer and reminds me that he’s already on “Team Tara”. I didn’t even know I had a team, but the fact that he is willing to back me speaks volumes.

  “I think I’d like that very much,” I whisper. “I’m kind of new to the world of teammates. The last one I had was your brother.”

  A slow smile crosses Aidan’s face as he processes what I just told him. “I’ll be happy to show you the ropes,” Aidan winks.

  “Do I start with something like this?” I ask, standing on my tiptoes to place a light kiss on Aidan’s cheek.

  Aidan looks stunned for a second. After he recovers his power of speech, he answers, “Very nice, Gracie. But we may need to work on your aim a little.”

  I shake my head in mock dismay. “Perhaps my aim was just fine, AJ, and the problem is your need for instant gratification” I tease as I stick my tongue out at him.

  I watch, intrigued, as Aidan’s affable countenance gets intense. His eyes darken as he watches my mouth. I nervously lick my lips, and that elicits a groan from Aidan.

  “Tara, if I told you how long I’ve been hoping you would kiss me, it would scare the living daylights out of you,” Aidan confesses softly as he tucks some stray hair behind my ear.

  He turns bright red, as only a red-head truly can, and it cracks me up. It doesn’t fit how brash and inappropriate he can be at other times.

  “I’m not sure why you’re embarrassed Aidan, I figured out you had a crush on me a really long time ago,” I reply matter-of-factly.

  Aidan sighs. “Yeah, I guess I was never that hard to read, was I?”

  “Don’t worry about it. I think it’s very sweet and it earns you extra brownie points. So don’t try to deny it now,” I chide gently.

  Aidan’s eyes light up with laughter as he suggests, “So it’s not instant gratification at all. I’ve been waiting a really, really long time to kiss you, and patience like that should be richly rewarded.”

  I chortle. Who knew I could still chortle? “I have to admit, somewhere in there is a logical argument. I’m not quite sure where, but I’ll give you extra points for creativity and good use of nostalgia.”

  Aidan’s eyes widen. “Just to be clear, Tara, are you saying what I think you’re saying? May I kiss you on the lips?” he asks solemnly.

  I nod. Suddenly, I’m too nervous to speak and my hands are as cold as ice. Finally I whisper, “Please be gentle. I’m so scared. What if I freak out and turn into a basket case?”

  Aidan walks me over to a tree stump. He sets down all of our belongings and lifts me up to sit on top of the sun-warmed surface. He climbs up and sits beside me.

  Aidan leans in and says, “Whatever happens, we’ll work through it together. I promise. Don’t let that creep take your happiness for one more day.”

  “Okay,” I agree with a touch of false bravado.

  “Okay?” Aidan repeats. “I’ll take that as my license to do this—” With little warning, Aidan, gently places a whisper soft kiss on my lips.

  This is not how I remember kissing. This is so much better. A moan escapes the back of my throat. Weirdly, I need him to kiss me harder. I never expected to feel this way. I’m so confused.

  “Wow,” I breathe. My heart is still racing, but my responses are no longer driven entirely by fear.

  “Wow good, or wow bad?” Aidan asks, clearly amused by the expression on my face.

  “Would you be upset if I told you I don’t really know the answer yet?” I ask, befuddled by my body’s responses.

  “Gracie, why would you think I would be upset? Under the best of circumstances, a relationship is like a dance. Couples need to feel each other out and figure out how to work as a team. It’s going to be especially true in our case. Contrary to every Disney movie ever written, it’s not going to be perfect from the word go. There are going to be some ups and downs and bumpy spots.”

  “I just don’t want you to be frustrated with me. My emotions are so chaotic, I don’t always make myself clear. Sometimes I know what I want, but I don’t know how to get there,” I trail off, feeling a little crazy with my rambling explanation.

  “Tara, relax.” Aidan soothes as he drops a kiss on my forehead. “We don’t have to figure out all of this today, tomorrow, or even next month. Besides, we’ve got a leg up on everyone else. We already know we make great friends. Everything else is just a bonus.”

  Reflexively, I fold my legs up to my chest as I try to compose myself and calm my wildly beating heart.

  “Stop thinking so hard. I can practically hear the gears in your head turning,” Aidan gently chides. “Hikes are for communing with nature–-and kissing—not for thinking so much.”

  Even the kiss he meant to be comforting makes my skin tingle. I draw in a deep breath and change the subject. “When are we stopping for lunch? I’m starving,” I ask as my stomach lets out a loud growl.

  Aidan grins at me. “I forgot that you have the metabolism of a hummingbird. Don’t worry, though. I’ve got you covered,” he says as we resume walking.

  Just then we round a corner and encounter a small meadow with an outcropping of trees. Aidan gives me a small bow and winks. “Will today’s facilities meet your dining expectations?” he asks facetiously.

  Dropping into a deep dancer’s curtsy, I practically touch my toes with my nose as I reply, “Why yes, I do believe I would like to sit over by the large shade tree.” Aidan sticks his elbow out like an old-fashioned gentleman from a Rodgers and Hammerstein musical and holds my hand on his forearm so that he can function as my escort. When we reach a shady spot, he pulls a survival blanket out of his backpack and lays it on the ground. He motions for me to sit. When I have, he starts to remove bowls of food from his backpack and arrange them on the blanket.

  He is whistling a song I remember him singing in a talent show when we were kids. I had completely forgotten about his total adoration of Broadway tunes. He knew them all forward and backwards. He was always a great singer. I suppose it would be rude to ask if he can still sing. It’s so weird, knowing so much about him as he was, yet realizi
ng I may not know the man he’s become at all.

  I look up and notice Aidan studying me with a bemused expression on his face. “You were not paying attention, were you? I asked you if you wanted regular chicken salad or something spicy like Indian curry or Thai.” I look around and see that Aidan has laid out a mind-boggling amount of food.

  “How in the world did you fit all that in your backpack? I’ll never be able to eat all of it!”

  Aidan throws his head back and laughs. “I never intended you to. Did you think I was going to starve? You have to leave me some crumbs at least,” he teases.

  He holds up a bite of an exotic looking chicken salad for me to try. I try to delicately take a bite, but unfortunately, my stomach decides to loudly announce my hunger with a plaintive growl. Whatever is in it, that bite of food is amazingly good. “Was it the Thai or the Indian?” I ask. “How did you even know that I like Thai food? It’s a pretty weird thing to guess about somebody.”

  Aidan raises his eyebrow at me. “Oh, I don’t know. You always had a thing for spicy food. You were the only kid who knew what kimchi was and actually ate it. Remember the time Rory dared me to eat those extra hot Slim Jim jerky sticks? He couldn’t even eat them. You ate two and wanted to know what the fuss was about. So I figured you probably still like spicy food, but I also anticipated your palate may have matured some. Thai and Indian curry seemed like a good bet. Just in case that didn’t work out, I brought cherries and fresh strawberries dipped in chocolate.”

  For a moment, I’m stunned into silence. I can’t believe how much thought and preparation he put into a single lunch. This wasn’t something he just threw together at the last minute; he took the time to really think about my likes and dislikes. I don’t think I’ve had anybody care so much about what I think or want in a really long time. It’s disconcerting. I’m used to observing other people and giving my opinion only when absolutely necessary. One of my favorite things about being an interpreter is fading into the background, like a piece of furniture.

  “I’m not sure you should’ve gone to all this trouble just for me,” I mutter.

  “Why wouldn’t I, Tara Grace Windsong Isamu? For a long time, as a kid, you were my best friend. Now we’ve reconnected and what I see in front of me is still my best friend. Why would I treat you differently today?”

  When he puts it as starkly as that, it’s hard to justify my fears. From his perspective, nothing much has changed. I’d like that to be true for me as well. I want to pick up where we left off, if possible, and pretend nothing has changed. The best way to start, I suppose, is with baby steps. I admit with a sigh, “You’re right. I’m just really rusty at this dating thing. So let me try again. ‘Aidan, the Thai chicken was delicious. I can’t wait to see what else you brought.’ Better?”

  Aidan grins approvingly. “Much better! Now, do you prefer a nice a orderly approach to lunch or are you a rebel at heart, with a yearning to start with dessert?”

  I pause to think for a moment before answering, “I do love strawberries, but I’m more of a delayed gratification kind of gal.”

  Aidan looks like I just told him Santa Claus has died. His shoulders slump. “I was afraid you would say that. We’ll play it your way this time. But first, I have to do one little thing.” He removes my baseball cap and sets it on the blanket beside me. He cups my face in his hands, and kisses me. At first I’m startled. But there’s no aggression or anger, just pleasure. Lots of pleasure. Soon, I hear myself mewing for more.

  Aidan breaks the kiss and murmurs in my ear, “I am not a delayed gratification kind of guy, but that was certainly my kind of appetizer.”

  The combination of his sexy words and his kiss send a wave of heat to my core. It’s been so long since I’ve had the unadulterated pleasure of a good old-fashioned flirting session that I’ve forgotten how much fun it is.

  “Good things happen when you feed me, Aidan,” I respond, flipping my ponytail to the other side of my head for reasons that totally escape me.

  “Just how good, Gracie?” he responds with an exaggerated leer.

  “Well, you never know—” I trail off, blushing hotly as I realize what a double entendre I’ve just left hanging there.

  “Hmm... I guess it’s a lucky thing for me that you have such fast metabolism,” Aidan winks.

  I really wish the rest of the Girlfriend Posse were here. Kiera would know how to get herself out of this situation. She’d be one of the guys with her girl-next-door charm, while Heather performs verbal gymnastics better than anyone I’ve ever met. Without a doubt, she would find the perfect thing to say to relieve the tension and have everyone in stitches. Me? Not so much. All of this feels really awkward. My brain has gone on vacation and I can’t think of anything funny to say. In fact, I can’t think of anything to say, at all. I feel as useless as the dried pine needles that I’m absentmindedly weaving together.

  Aidan notices my impromptu craft project and remarks, “Hey, that’s really cool. How did you learn to do that?”

  I give him a surprised look. “Did you forget about my heritage? Learning to weave baskets is mandatory cultural education among Native Americans.”

  “You are a woman of many talents, Tara Grace Windsong,” Aidan observes.

  We spend the next few minutes talking about his friend Delores and her obsession with Pinterest and all things arts and crafts. While we eat lunch, Aidan mentions that he sometimes uses pictures to illustrate his song ideas. When he lost his hearing, Dolores encouraged him to use drawing as a way to capture his thoughts so that he could write the lyrics.

  An odd thought occurred to me. “I wonder how she knew, when you were eleven, how important music would be to your life even though you were deaf. A lot of people would’ve tried to keep you away from the world of music. It could have been painful for you, trying to continue any involvement with music.”

  “I don’t really know how she knew music was like food for me. I couldn’t live without it. Yet, for a while there, I couldn’t live with it, either. Music and I eventually had to reach some sort of truce. When I started researching cochlear implants and realized that they were a viable option for me, I started practicing the motions of playing the piano before I could even hear it. Talk about a leap of faith,” Aidan explains with a chuckle.

  “Still, it’s amazing that she was so supportive of all that.”

  Aidan gets a faraway look in his eyes. I can tell he’s remembering a painful time from the distant past that he’d probably rather forget.

  “I didn’t leave her much choice. I didn’t tell her what I was planning to do, but I did all the research on my own and contacted the National Institutes of Health and every implant manufacturer I could find, trying to be included in a study,” he replies.

  I’m almost afraid to ask, but curiosity gets the best of me. “What did she say?”

  Aidan smiles. “Oh, she was very typically Delores. As a pediatric nurse, she had a million and one questions about its safety and effectiveness. However, what I didn’t know at the time was that she was doing all the same research so that she could bring music back into my life.”

  “What did your parents think of all this?” I ask, fascinated by the whole saga.

  “Are you kidding?” He asks with an edge of sarcasm. “My parents jumped all over the opportunity to turn me back into the magical normal boy they once had.”

  “Well, that’s just ridiculous!” I seethe. “You are their son. They should love you regardless of whether you can hear. It shouldn’t matter if you’re some famous concert pianist or not.”

  Aidan kisses the back of my hand. “That’s what I’ve always loved about you, Gracie; you’ve always been my biggest fan.”

  I look around the old restaurant with its dilapidated seventies decor and stir my coffee to cool it down. Squirming in my seat, I try to avoid the scrutiny of my friends by changing the subject. “Why are we even talking about me? We should be talking about Kiera. She just came back from her honeymoon. H
er stories will be far more interesting than mine.”

  Heather arches an eyebrow to indicate that she’s on to me. “Oh, don’t worry, I plan to get to Mrs. Newlywed over here, but first I want to hear your story. Don’t even try to change the subject,” she demands as she narrows her eyes.

  Kiera grabs my hand with the stirring stick to make me stop and simply holds on to my hands with both of hers. “Tara, I know you thought I wasn’t paying attention at the wedding. But my head wasn’t so far in the clouds that I couldn’t tell you really like this guy. Didn’t you send a text during your date to say it was going really well? So what happened? Why do you look like someone kicked your puppy?” she asks, looking puzzled.

  I’m not even sure I can explain this in a way that they can understand. So I take a moment to sort through my thoughts. “The date was everything that I ever hoped a first date would be—even if it was really our second date. He was sweet, charming, and attentive. He was funny and irreverent. He remembered I like spicy food and strawberry-flavored Crush. How obscure is that?”

  “That sounds great,” Heather interjects. “What’s the problem?”

  I’ve been analyzing the situation for three days. Running it over and over in my head, I can only reach one conclusion. I sigh in frustration as I reply, “Me. I’m the problem. We had a great lunch. He fed me chocolate covered strawberries and black cherries — which is amazingly sexy, by the way. Then he took me on a rock climbing adventure. As crazy as it sounds, even when we were hanging off the side of a cliff on a skinny little rope, I felt completely safe because he was with me. He had to have his hands all over my body to help me and keep me safe, but he was very discreet and never lewd or disrespectful.”

  At this point, Kiera pipes up, “Well, I should hope so. Because if he hurts you, he’s going to have to deal with Jeff, Ty and probably William. I’m sure they all gave him all sorts of warnings at the wedding. Aidan strikes me as a pretty smart guy. I’m pretty certain he doesn’t want to tick off a former Oregon Supreme Court Justice and a police officer.”