by Kate Kisset
“None of my grandparents are living.” Scarlett nudged his arm. “I thought people got tired when they got older, but these grannies have an awful lot of energy.”
Jake had to laugh. “You think?” He wrapped his other hand around hers and rested it on his leg. “So, the annual Valentine Sweetheart charity auction comes around.” He peeked at Scarlett, feeling some of his tension diminish. “It’s a benefit our station puts on every year for Bay Area schools. Television, radio, and sports personalities are auctioned off for dates on Valentine’s day. Highest bidder wins. No biggie.” Jake bowed his head, chuckling under his breath, and then looked over. “I love that you’re listening to this.”
Scarlett locked onto his gaze. “You got it.”
He rubbed the back of his neck again and sighed. “So, I'm standing on stage in front of a sold-out crowd at the San Francisco Fairmont with a spotlight shining on my face. I have a wager with our weather guy that I'll go for more than he does... And the price continues to go higher and higher until we have a winner. House lights go up, and who do I see at the back of the room in red sequins, giggling and waving heart-shaped paddles? My great-aunt and grandmother. They bought me against my will.”
“Ohmygod.”
“They were bidding against each other, driving the price up, which is fine for Bay Area schools, but lousy for me. They bid so high no one else would make an offer. Either way, I’d lose. Now ChiChi owns me, all because I refused to dance with her way back in December. Do you know how much razzing I got? On the air? On Twitter? It’s still being retweeted, every damn day, for a grand total of twelve thousand thirty-six times.”
He made a fist and talked into it like a microphone. He dropped his pitch in that fake-broadcaster tone he despised. “This is Joe Blow reporting. Jake Martelli is so desperate, his nonna and auntie had to buy him at the Sweetheart Auction.”
Scarlett squeezed his hand and snuggled a little closer. “This is the reason I prefer to work with animals who have four legs and not two.”
He leaned closer, amazed at how relaxed he felt talking to her, and dumbfounded to discover Scarlett seemed to care about his ridiculous situation. “The story made the local papers. It’s all over the internet. I take it you’re not on Twitter…”
“And you’d be right.” The brim of her hat moved up and down. “Although I should be, I’m not into social media at all.”
She’s so refreshing. Melting, Jake turned to Scarlett so he could look into her eyes. They had changed from chocolate to warm cognac in the sun. “Do you know how much I love”—Stop. Urgent. The Force is strong—“that…you’re not on Twitter?”
CHAPTER FOUR
The family of butterflies taking up residence in her stomach took off again. Another day, another him. Scarlett locked her car and grinned at the charming neighborhood. Pink roses, heavy with blossoms, gushed over pristine white picket fences. Neat rows of lush grapevines adorned several front yards. Under the warm sun, the honeybees were having a field day.
Transitioning her Davis veterinary practice to St. Helena wouldn’t be a cake walk, but it wouldn’t be an insurmountable trek, either. After a sixth day of interviewing potential partners to join her in taking over Dr. Huntington’s practice, Scarlett heaved a sigh of relief. She felt positive her last interviewee would call her back tomorrow and sign on. But the most exciting component of her journey back to St. Helena had nothing to do with her career.
From the moment she told Jake she wanted to remain at the guesthouse, they’d eaten breakfast together every morning. Jake also went out of his way to have dinner with her every night so they could share news of their day. Scarlett imagined they were sort of like a married couple who hadn’t kissed yet. Although she wasn’t complaining.
The staccato beat of horns blared through the front door, stopping Scarlett in her tracks. An orchestra stopped—then picked up, wailing louder in a clipped rhythm. Moving the pink box of pastries to her other arm, Scarlett shoved the key in the lock and gingerly opened the door. She didn’t want to interrupt the party, but Danishes didn’t last long in the heat.
Jake, wearing the same sexy jeans and tee from that morning, stood barefoot in the living room, holding air. With his back stick-straight and arm extended, he stepped, counting, “One, two, three--and four. Slow, slow, quick-quick, slow.” He swiveled, dipping his imaginary friend so low her head would’ve hit the floor, and then looked up.
“I didn’t think you’d be home yet,” he grinned, quickly straightening and smoothing the front of his shirt. “If this is going to bother you, I’ll turn it off.”
“Don’t mind me.” She raised her voice over the music. Scarlett held up the box of pastries. “Just passing through with tomorrow’s breakfast.” She hurried into the kitchen and put the box on the counter. The music volume lowered, and she strolled back to the living room. No way would she miss this…
With the remote in his hand and his arms folded across his chest, Jake peered at the giant flat screen. Scarlett stood beside him and crossed her arms, too. “What are we watching?”
Before he answered, ChiChi and Jake careened across the gigantic screen in a series of steps that took her breath away. It wasn’t a dance she’d seen before, not even at the most drunken wedding. She couldn't describe it. Scarlett bit down on her lip and tried like hell not to laugh.
“See?” Jake asked, dead serious, pausing the frame. “It’s that step right there.” He pointed. “I have to work on it.”
Scarlett only nodded, because if she opened her mouth, she’d howl. Don’t say a word. Don’t say a word. “Is ChiChi going to wear the feather boa during the competition?”
“Not sure,” he said, thoughtfully examining the video.
“The pirate’s hat?” Scarlett asked, still managing to maintain a straight face.
“Maybe.” He turned from the screen and gave her a little smile. “The camerawork isn’t bad, though. The grannies hired a professional to record every session and make three copies daily so they can study the DVD, and I can practice with it.” He blew out a sigh. “Not good.”
“Wait.” Scarlett squinted for a better look at a petite woman dressed in a George Harrison outfit from the seventies, sitting in the far-right corner of the screen. “Is your grandmother holding a stick?”
“That is the riding crop she used to swat my back every time it wasn’t straight this morning.” Chuckling, he tunneled his fingers through his thick, rich brown hair.
No wonder he’s on television.
“I won’t survive this. The only thing good about that dance is the camerawork. And the only thing good about today is you.”
Speechless.
“Hey.” Jake brushed her arm with his hand, sending shivers from her scalp to her toes. Taken off guard, Scarlett kept her head down. Heat from his stare burned a hole in the top of her head. “I don’t suppose you’d like to help me practice?” His voice was husky and low
Shaking her head, Scarlett backed away. “Um. No.” She took another step backward, turned, and hightailed it to the kitchen. “Not the girl for the job,” she called out from the island.
“It’s not a job.” Jake put his hands on his hips and stared her down from the living room. “It’s only a dance.”
“Would you like a sandwich? I'll help by providing nourishment for you while you practice.” She opened the fridge in search of cold cuts. It’s not that she didn’t want to help him. If she wasn't such a terrible dancer, she would. Jake looked dejected, staring at her with those big, puppy-dog eyes.
“If you really wanted to help me, you wouldn’t hide in the kitchen.”
Holy hell. She closed the refrigerator and came back to the living room. “I’m a terrible dancer, Jake, and I’m not exaggerating.” She touched his hand. “Don’t be mad, come on.”
“It would help if I could count the steps holding a warm body.”
“Nice.” She trooped over to the sofa, grabbed a pillow, and threw it at him.
Jake mo
ved to the side, and the cushion hit the floor. “I’m sorry. You know what I meant. It’s just impossible for me to get the feel of holding a partner without actually holding one.
“How ’bout this?” Jake rubbed his Adam’s apple, looking exceptionally cute while flustered. “I’ll make breakfast and dinner every night you’re here if you just go through one dance with me.” He raised his eyebrows. “Yes? Or we can go out to a nice, relaxing restaurant, and you can fill me in on how it went with your potential partners today. Unless…” He frowned. “Did it go okay today?”
“It did, thank you.” She beamed, touched he remembered. “I met someone today who’s a top contender. In fact, they were both good candidates.” She hugged her arms. “And we don’t need breakfast, because I went to Pricilla’s and picked up your favorite mascarpone Danishes since you were out.” She grinned. “See how helpful I am?”
“You bought Danishes?” He smiled, and his eyes warmed. “For me?”
She nodded, getting a little thrill from his reaction. “Right out of the oven. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to make a sandwich.” Before she could leave, Jake grabbed her hand and pulled her back.
“I don’t bite.” Holding both of her hands, he positioned her in front of him. “Unless you want me to.” He winked.
Her face heated another twenty degrees. They hadn’t kissed yet, and his touch made her freakishly nervous. She hadn’t dated anyone since her ex broke off their engagement, and her self-confidence when it came to men was shot. Not wanting to stand there blushing like an idiot, she pulled her hands away and retreated to the kitchen.
“I need to be able to at least fake the first part of the dance before tomorrow’s lesson,” Jake explained, trailing her into the kitchen. He sat on a stool across from her.
The man is persistent; I’ll give him that. Scarlett put her elbow on the counter and propped her chin in her hand. He had no idea how handsome he was. Jake could walk onto a dance floor alone, just stand there, and win. “You’re telling me this is a life-and-death situation?”
“Yes. The grannies finally fessed up the full story this morning. I’m dancing in St. Helena’s first annual Summer Solstice Starlight Dance. That’s why ChiChi and Nonna bought me at the auction. They’ve been plotting since December, as I suspected.”
“Hmm. The name is a mouthful, but it sounds fun. I promise to come cheer you on.”
Jake put a hand up. “I don’t think you understand the gravity of this situation. My aunt is on the warpath. She’s even bypassing the city council and funding this shindig herself. Choosing the time, location, food, music, dances, and making up her own rules. With the help of my nonna and her foxy posse, or whatever ChiChi calls her buddies, they’re keeping everything on the down low so no one will have any idea what to expect.”
Scarlett shrugged, promising herself she’d never complain about her family again. Compared to Jake’s clan, they were a cinch to deal with…but then again, they weren’t Italian.
“It was my innocent nonna’s idea, by the way, to not reveal there’s a dance competition until the last minute. She doesn’t want the opposition to have time to practice.”
“Deidre Potter won’t know what hit her.”
“Exactly. So, please?” He reached across the counter for her.
She took a deep breath and grabbed his hand. “Fine. One dance.”
“It’ll be fun,” he promised, leading her to the center of the living room. “Stay right there.” Jake pushed the coffee table off to the side and grabbed the remote. “It’s a tango mashup so we need to start from the beginning.” He hit a button on the gizmo.
Brady trotted into the room and jumped on the sofa for a ringside view.
“I’ll probably step on your toes.” Scarlett pondered the images scrolling backward on the screen with a sense of doom.
“And I won’t mind.” Jake pointed the remote at the TV, hit a button again, and the screen froze. He hustled back to her, looking rumpled, frustrated, pleased with himself, and sexy as hell. “So you”—he placed her arm over his—“wrap this arm over mine and, for now, put your hand on my shoulder.”
On second thought, dancing isn’t so bad. Scarlett took a deep breath. “Okay.” She placed her hand on the soft fabric of his T-shirt, hyperaware of the solid mass underneath. A zap of electricity zinged through her.
“And I put my hand around your waist, like this.”
The contact of Jake’s strong hand pressing on her lower back triggered another flutter of tingles.
“Are you sure this is the right position for a tango?” she asked. “Aren’t I supposed to clench a rose between my teeth and glare at you over my shoulder?”
“Ah, so you do know something about dancing.”
“Only from watching Dancing with the Stars,” she muttered.
“Now, I hold your hand up, here, at about a forty-five-degree angle.”
“You learned something from ChiChi…”
“Then I scoot closer to you like this.”
Hey, now… Scarlett instinctively stepped back. How was she supposed to concentrate?
Jake pressed against her back, bringing her closer. Warmth from his chest radiated through her. He smelled crazy good. Scarlett angled her nose a little closer to him and hoped he didn’t notice.
“We’re doing an augmented Cha-Cha-and-ChiChi-ized version of an eight-step Argentine tango,” he explained. “We’re going to be in contact the whole time, and I’ll either push you,” he demonstrated with a nudge against her back, “or pull you.” He stepped forward while nudging her waist, and she followed. “Just like that.”
“Listen,” she confessed peering up at him. “I don’t want you to get your hopes up here. I’m a vet. Dancing with cats or iguanas is more my style. Seriously, I’m not a dancer.”
“It’s okay. Neither am I.” His breath whispered across her forehead. “Remember the movie Scent of a Woman? Pacino was blind in that and still managed to do the tango. We’ll be fine.”
She laughed, getting a little relief from her nervous energy.
“It’s crazy.” Jake’s lips grazed her shoulder, and she wished she’d worn a spaghetti strap, instead of a T-shirt. “Sara,” he explained, “the one Deluca who’s a professional dancer, is on vacation. ChiChi couldn’t wait to schedule the dance until Sara and Trey got home because it has to happen on a night with a full moon.”
“With a sky full of stars, of course, because it’s the Summer Solstice Starlight Dance…”
“Now you get it.” Jake squeezed her hand.
“Where do you want my feet?”
“They should be together, weight on your right foot.”
Scarlett peeked down and brought her foot in a few inches. “Done.”
Jake cleared his throat. “Now. Just follow my lead. We’ll do it without the music first. Start with your left leg forward, that’s one.”
His hand nudged her into position.
“No problem,” she said to her toes.
“Now, to the side with your right.” He whispered in her ear, sending a chill down her spine. “That’s two… See? You’re a natural.”
“You’re making this very easy for me.” She grinned at his arm. The way he held her hand made his T-shirt bunch up around his biceps.
“Now, back with your left foot, three. Back with your other foot, four…”
He’s going to make a great father someday. Scarlett hated her mind went there, but Jake seemed exceptionally patient and good-natured. He didn’t complain or even tease when she accidently stepped on him or veered in the wrong direction. She followed every step while Jake’s strong hand nudged her forward, backward, and to the side.
“Do you feel comfortable with it?” Jake asked, leaning close and making her heart accelerate. Scarlett flashed on all the reasons she’d liked him the first time they met. Jake Martelli didn’t realize the power he had over women. He was the most unassuming man she’d ever met.
She nodded. “You’re a grea
t teacher.”
He cocked his head and shot her a mischievous grin. “Want to find out how our bodies really move together?”
She swallowed hard. Heat rushed to her cheeks. “Ooo…kayyy…” What did I just agree to?
“Let’s add some rhythm. The tango has a distinctive beat. It’s slow, slow, quick-quick, slow. Watch my feet, and say it with me. “Slow, slow, quick-quick, slow. See?”
Holy crap, was he graceful for such a tall man. “I see what you’re doing there. Slow, slow, quick-quick and slow…” And ohmygod, did he move. “I guess you were lying when you said you didn’t know how to dance, Casanova.”
He shrugged. “My parents made me take a few lessons as a kid.”
Scarlett wasn’t about to admit she also exaggerated about not knowing how to dance. True, it was ages ago, but she had a few lessons in college. She was being honest about having two left feet, though.
“Ready for the music?” Jake pointed the remote at the screen.
Scarlett rolled her shoulders and shook the tension out of her body. “Let’s do this.”
Jake clicked the remote and moved into position. She placed her arm over his and took a deep breath. The staccato strings started playing, and after a few beats, Jake stepped back and she stepped back. Oops. She corrected herself, remembering to put her legs together and move to the side. She tugged his shoulder. Come this way.
Jake guided her with his hand and pulled her back. “I’m the lead.”
She bumped his chin with her forehead. “Sorry.”
“Let me guide you. Don’t move unless I tell you to with my body,” Jake instructed softly. “You’ll get your cues through the way we hold each other. But, I’ll lead you. Okay?”
“Right.” Scarlett situated her hand on his shoulder. “I’ll listen through my back. You push and pull, and I’ll be putty.” Jake clasped his hand around hers. “Do what you will with me.” Heat crept over her face at the thought of what she just said. She’d be in capable hands in a multitude of positions…
“Please don’t tempt me like that.” His voice sounded low and a little ragged.
