by MK Schiller
TIN MAN’S DANCE
MK SCHILLER
Kissing Bridge Series
Tin Man’s Dance
Copyright © October 2014 by MK Schiller
All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser ONLY. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without express prior written permission from MK Schiller. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
Cover Artist: FrinaArt
Published by: ALL THE WORDS LLC
www.mkschillerauthor.com
ISBN:
This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental
For all the brave Service Men and Women.
Thank you for your courage, your sacrifice, and keeping us safe.
You are all real heroes.
Tin Man’s Dance
MK Schiller
The one time Lilly Franklin rewards herself with a front-row concert ticket is turning into an epic fail. Not to mention the tall, cocky boy who claims her front-row seat is all wicked smiles, long legs and tug-worthy hair. Well, he's messing with the wrong girl. But as the night wears on, Lily starts to see a softer side of former marine, James “Hutch” Hutchinson. A side that makes her shed her loner inhibitions along with her clothes.
There is a difference between trouble and troubled. In Hutch, she has found both.
Hutch lost more than a leg in the Iraqi dessert. Returning to school on the GI Bill wasn’t exactly in the plans…but plans change. Now he only wants to meet the mysterious dancer, but he’s forgotten how to talk to women, especially one as graceful as Lilly. So armed with a plan that even a twelve-year-old would laugh at, he steals Lilly’s seat.
Only fair since she stole his heart first.
But Lilly has plans, too. As if Hutch’s life wasn’t already a sh*t storm of sacrifice.
How can he give up the one thing that’s made him feel real?
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Excerpt – The Do Over
MK Schiller
Chapter 1
Hutch
I never planned on college, but with a GI bill burning a hole in my back pocket, Uncle Sam’s blessing, and nothing better to do, here I was. Well, that along with Mom’s encouragement and my brother’s insistence I’d enjoy myself.
I didn’t exactly fit in—a twenty-four-year-old freshman in a small college town trying to obtain a degree in English Lit, the only subject I didn’t suck at in high school. At one time, higher education was on my radar, but I planned on a Big Ten school and being a part of the football program…a big part. But life happens, choices were made, and detours taken so here I am.
I never expected to end up in this Martha Stewart version of a bachelor pad that belonged in the glossy pages of the kind of catalog I wouldn’t wrap fish in, let alone read. Hayden owned the condo. Well, at least his parent’s did. Hayden, roommate number one, who I referred to as “spoiled rich boy.” Not just in my head, but aloud, too. The crazy thing was, he identified himself that way. I liked that about him. Noah, roommate number two, was more like me—a working stiff trying to get a leg up in the world. Then there was Gage, roommate number three, who mostly kept to himself.
I usually jogged outside, but the rain had changed my plans today. Rain fucked with my joints and caused my scars to sting. I ran on Hayden’s treadmill instead, listening as he jabbered on about parties, girls and well…party girls while he lifted weights. As usual, he switched gears as smoothly as my manual clunker.
“C’mon Hutch, I scored an extra ticket.”
“Richie Rich, do you peg me as the type of dude who wants to attend a dance recital?”
He placed another weight onto his bar. “I want people to be there for my sister. My parents can’t make it. Not a lot of people go to these events, especially when it’s competing with a campus football game.”
I never thought of Hayden as the kind of guy that looked out for others. Still, I had no desire to go. She wasn’t my sister, after all. In fact, I’d planned on hanging out with some other buddies tonight. It was gonna be a rager with Jose Cuervo supplying the drinks, Jimi Hendrix providing the tunes, and Albert Camus’ The Stranger bringing in the entertainment portion of the evening. I’m not an alcoholic, but lonely and numb were two sides of the same coin. Lately, I’d grown very close to ole Jose.
“There will be hot girls there,” Hayden added, wiggling his brows.
“I’m not interested in girls.”
My reflexes ran slower these days. Hayden titled his head to the side, a flicker of understanding or rather misunderstanding forming on his features. “Oh, sorry man. I didn’t realize you were gay.”
Shit.
“I’m not gay,” I said, an octave too loud. “I’m just not interested in girls right now.”
“It’s cool man. You don’t have to hide.”
I sighed and revved up the speed on the mill, searching the room for my phone. “I have plans tonight.”
“Oh yeah, with who?”
With three dudes.
I stopped the treadmill to readjust. “Can you hand me the lube?” I asked, gesturing toward the tube on the table beside Hayden.
Okay…so that sounded gay.
Hayden tossed it to me. I sat on the workout bench and applied a generous amount where I felt the limb tightening on me. The front of my shirt was drenched in sweat, thanks to the ten-mile run, but I still had another five to reach my goal.
“I watch you stay in every night while everyone else is having a good time. We’re in college, G.I. Joe. You need to get out there sometime.”
Hayden didn’t fool me. Obviously, he didn’t want to go alone, and he’d already run through his gamut of friends until my name popped up. In truth, I should go. I owed Hayden a lot. If I wasn’t living here, I’d be uncomfortable as hell, cramped in a tiny dorm room. Plus, there were some very nice amenities at Casa Richie Rich. Every creature comfort a man could want. I may only be twenty-four, but my mental age had me wondering if I should apply for social security benefits.
I thought about it. Why the hell not? At least I’d have something to tell Colton when he came to visit. He often ribbed me about my self-imposed exile from society.
“Yeah, okay. What time?”
Hayden, blinked a few times before staring at me as if waiting for a punch line. If he didn’t quit being so annoying, he might just get a punch right to the gut.
“Seriously?”
“Don’t push it.”
He nodded. “Seven. I’ll leave your ticket at Will Call.”
Chapter 2
Hutch
The student theatre was a small venue, the seats designed for girls and scrawny dudes. I felt like fucking Gulliver in Lilliput. I looked over the program once more. Shit, how did Richie Rich manage to talk me into coming to this modern dance deal?
Hayden and I warred over the armrest. I finally
conceded, slumping low in my seat. After a few performances, he shoved me awake.
“What?”
“What do you think of that girl?” Hayden pointed toward the back of the stage where a chorus of identical looking dancers lined up. “That’s my sister.”
“The one in the black pants?”
“Um…no, that’s a dude.”
“Oh.” Squinting my eyes, I saw that he was indeed correct.
“The girl on the right.” Ten girls pranced in some kind of menacing Riverdance jig.
I didn’t want to spend the next fifteen minutes trying to figure out who she was. “Sure.”
I tried to feign interest, but I just wasn’t into it.
“The girl in the blue has a nice ass,” I commented just to make impolite conversation.
“That’s my sister.”
“Man, I’m sorry.” Someone shushed us. Thank God, cause my mouth was best when locked.
“It’s okay. Do you want an intro?”
Smooth move, Richie Rich. “Are you trying to set me up?”
“Well, I figured an ex-Marine...”
Did he honestly think Devil Dogs were good dating material? “First off, there is no such thing as an ex-Marine, and secondly, I have no interest in seeing anyone right now.”
“Suit yourself.”
The applause woke me, signaling the finished act. I yawned, wondering how many Goddamn routines I’d have to suffer through. My left leg fell asleep, which was a terrible thing possible in my world because my right one wouldn’t work on its own.
“Now, performing their East meets West choreographed Snake Dance, please welcome Lilly Franklin and Joseph Bernard.”
A shirtless dude in sparkly orange Aladdin pajamas was on his knees before a large wicker basket. He faked played a flute as some kind of Bollywood music started up. I sighed, sinking back into my seat.
The basket popped open.
Out came the kind of girl that can only spell trouble for a guy like me. You know how you think you hear normally then your ears pop, and you realize you hadn’t been? Well, that’s what happened to me, except with my eyes.
The girl twisted her body like a snake, but that was the only thing reptilian about her. She untied the long pink scarf around her waist and wrapped it around the guy, pulling him closer to her. He grasped her waist and picked her up in one swift move. An iridescent light blue, body-hugging tank top and purple pants, similar to his but much tighter and shorter, showed off her beautiful body. You’d think all those competing colors would wash out her natural beauty, but they didn’t.
Her shiny black hair, twisted into several long braids contrasted with her pale skin. She swung her hips and tapped her feet as if her body naturally moved that way. I borrowed a pair of binoculars from the couple behind me. She wasn’t tight skin over bones. Naw, this girl had curves to spare. She was voluptuous with full hips, round breasts and a plump ass…the way a woman should be.
They performed a high octane, energy-filled dance. The kind of thing I wouldn’t find remotely interesting, except that I did. I didn’t understand the high-speed foreign lyrics, but the story required no translation. It was about a charming girl who refused to be charmed despite the pathetic guy’s lame attempts. I should heed the warning.
I struggled with an odd balance of jealousy, awe, and fear when he picked her up, held her high into the air, and swung her legs across his shoulders. He held her with an intimacy that made me feel like a voyeur intruding on their private moment.
You drop her, Aladdin Pants, and I’ll kick your ass.
She was fearless, though, her body wrapping around him in effortless grace. I could only imagine the years of practice required to perfect that kind of deceit. When he put her down, she fell to her knees. I almost stood, worried she’d hurt herself, but it was all part of the act. She rotated the stage in a perfect circle in that position until she bounced back up on her feet. God, her knees had to be sore as hell. That kind of stamina was nothing short of…stimulating. Yeah, my dirty mind just went there.
Hayden’s elbow connected to my arm. “Glad something got your attention. So you interested in the guy?”
“Shut up, Van Snooty, I’m not gay.”
Someone else shushed us. Thankfully, I was able to watch the last few leaps without interruption, not that anything could tear my mind away from the stage now.
I gave her a standing ovation…or at least one part of my anatomy did.
“You ready to bail?” Hayden asked, gathering his coat. “We’ve been here long enough to meet the obligation.”
“I’m gonna stick around for a while.”
I wouldn’t give up a minute of looking at her. I had glanced at the program out of boredom when we first got here. Time well spent. Lilly Franklin was also the finale.
I had to wait through a fucking intermission and five more routines to see her again. No doubt she needed the rest after the first dance.
The latter half of the program consisted of individual performances. The auditorium was almost empty after the intermission, allowing me to snatch a seat in the front row. I wondered what it was that made me stay. I’m no romantic. Hell, as long as I’m being honest, I don’t mind admitting I was compiling masturbation material for the lonely nights that awaited me.
She was just a pretty girl who could dance. That was all. I repeated my mantra until she appeared on the stage again. She wore a blue silk robe that stopped above the knees. She padded to the microphone her chest heaving. Are you nervous, Lilly?
“Thank you all for coming tonight.” She placed her hand above her eyes and scanned the audience. “Especially those of you who stayed. Tonight is my final performance on this stage. I choreographed it myself. I’m grateful for all the opportunities I’ve received at the Modern Dance Program here at Dewhurst. I wanted to thank all my instructors. I also need to give special credit to Colton Keyes. His song, Finding My Way Home, has always been very special to me.” She graced the audience with a coy smile.
“Sometimes you hear a song, and you think it’s written for you.” She swallowed, the microphone magnifying it to a gulp. A pink blush spread across her chest, confirming my suspicions that she hadn’t meant to say something so personal. “Anyway, that’s the reason I chose this song for my final act. I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention Colton Keyes is coming to this very stage next week. Thank you.”
She walked back into the shadows. I blinked, wondering if I’d heard her right. Was she actually going to dance to my little brother’s song? And not just any song, but the one I helped him write, in a weird way.
The familiar rhythm started up. The robe was gone. She wore a lace camisole—what I’ve heard referred to as a baby doll dress. Her long jet-black hair was loose and flowing behind her with each graceful movement. Her body was muscular and feminine, lithe and toned.
I mouthed the lyrics as she moved to them, giving the words a physical presence. I understood for the first time what people meant when they said “poetry in motion.” That’s what Lilly Franklin was — a poet, an artist, a creative in a conformist world.
The man died, but the boy still lives.
A Tin Man in disguise, ruled by bad decisions and lousy ambitions
Waiting for the sun to shine.
If you’re going to send me something,
Send me soap to wash away these sins,
Send me a coat to keep me warm against the wind,
Send me a boat, so I can sail to a warmer place,
Most of all, send me hope.
I need a little more…to make my way back home.
She climbed onto this fake staircase leading to nowhere, the only prop on the stage. As she lept backward into the air, my heart soared with her, beating with raw, pounding panic. Defying gravity, she landed on her feet with a flawless finish. This wasn’t a dance. I was watching pure physical emotion she shared with me…with all of us.
“Man, I wouldn’t mind those long legs wrapped around me,” some frat boy
next to me commented when she took her bow.
I clapped so loud I almost missed it. I cut him a glare, trying to stifle my growl. “Have some respect.”
He opened his mouth to say something else, probably something that would make my clenched fist spring to action. I moved a step closer to him, the nonverbal threat clear in my stance, which was at least a foot taller than his. He backed away. “Sorry, man, just appreciating beauty in its best form.”
I grabbed a fistful of his shirt. “Appreciate it silently, asshole.” I pushed him back. He was smart enough to keep his mouth shut.
I couldn’t blame him, though. Wasn’t he doing the same thing I was? We were both leering at her.
Chapter 3
Hutch
I left that night. I thought about staying afterward and asking her out for coffee, but the truth was I didn’t know how to talk to girls anymore, especially not a girl like her.
I knew I was handsome…at least all the visible parts of me. I was lucky in that way. I’d had a ton of offers since arriving to school. I would credit my former Marine status for part of that. It was like catnip for girls, but I didn’t advertise it. I’d always been successful when it came to females…or at least I was. But I wasn’t the same person anymore. I didn’t have the confidence to approach her.
I met my brother at Blues and BBQ, a local joint that served the best wings on the planet. Judging from the number of plates he’d consumed, my brother agreed.
“You gonna finish that, Tin Man?” Colton asked, eyeing my plate.
“Hell yeah,” I said, pulling my plate closer. The kid could eat. “Why do you call me that? It’s kind of degrading.”
Colton wiped his mouth with a napkin and managed to rub the sauce across his whole face. I flung a few wet naps in his direction. Man, I’d changed this kid’s diapers once. Now, even though he was eighteen, I still found myself cleaning up after him.
