Her fault.
“Just playing a little light concerto.” The ends of his mouth lifted in a false smile. His joke fell flat.
Quinn ached for him. She moved her hand to his shoulder and squeezed. To comfort, not because she couldn’t resist touching him. Sitting beside him on the piano bench, she let his warmth seep into her body, giving her strength and conviction.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“Talking helps.” She truly believed in the philosophy. If she’d had someone to discuss things out with maybe she would’ve quit ballet sooner, maybe she wouldn’t have lost her grandparents’ home.
“Quinn the psychiatrist. How come I’m the one always confessing things?” His serious tone conflicted with his agitation. He shifted on the bench to study her. “Is there no dark history in your past?”
Stretching her legs beneath the piano, she thought about her upbringing with her strict mother, the cold, sterile ballet school dormitories, the competition to become the principal ballerina. While those things had shaped her, none were important anymore. She’d truly put that life behind her. The only regret gutting her was the loss of her grandparents’ house. She’d been devastated and couldn’t even walk down the street in Castle Ridge where it was located.
Nerves pranced in her midsection. “I almost wasn’t able to open my dance studio.”
The free classes started tomorrow. The dance studio was a reality. For now. As long as she could pay the rent each month.
“Why?” He slammed the cover down on the piano, as if the keys taunted him. “You’re so determined.”
A laugh gurgled. She was determined because she’d never had any other choice. Her mother had pushed her to be a better dancer with extra classes, private lessons, and training at home. The scholarship for ballet school had been based on talent, so she’d had to work harder to be the best. Once in the ballet, failure wasn’t an option. She had no fallback plan.
“Oh, I had my entire future planned out.” She’d been so naïve. “I’d worked hard and saved enough money to start a dance studio anywhere I wanted. I was going to live my dream.” Part of her dream was putting down roots and having a family. She didn’t tell him that part, because she didn’t want him running away as he’d done earlier this evening. If she could only have him as a friend, she’d take it. Still, she’d continue her campaign in a slow sashay of desire.
“Why did you choose Castle Ridge?”
“Fond memories of visiting my grandparents.” She choked at those memories and how she’d lost part of them. “I inherited their house, so I had some place to live here.”
His head angled in curiosity, and it was the first time she didn’t see pain in his expression since she’d come downstairs. Maybe sharing her secrets would help him forget his misery.
“I had enough money to do a long-term lease for a dance studio, pay for renovations, and have plenty of money saved.” Heat crawled up her cheeks at how stupid she’d been. “Until I dealt with an unscrupulous leasing agent.”
“My leasing agent?” His eyebrows arched, and a flash of temper appeared on his face.
“No. Someone from New York who had contacts in Castle Ridge. Supposedly.” She knew with certainty Reed would take care of his responsibilities. “I had leased another building before yours. Or, at least, I thought I had.”
“What happened?” He placed a hand on her thigh.
The silk of her robe swished against her skin. The presence of his palm assured. She’d be sharing one of the biggest mistakes of her life with a man she wanted respect from. Her mind teased. She wanted more than respect from him. One step at a time. “The leasing agent took my very large deposit on the lease.”
“First and last month?” His palm moved against her robe in a brushing gesture.
She tried not to notice how his rough hand compared to the smooth silk. She focused on her tale. “The agent said because I didn’t have a track record, he needed more to obtain the lease. A full year of rent.”
“That’s bull.” His large hand swished again and clutched her thigh.
The gesture sent a scorching spiral to her core.
The gesture was meant to console. She imagined other ways they could comfort each other. So many ways.
Start as friends.
“I know that now.” Her cheeks flamed. She’d been so dumb and trusting. “I wired the money, and the agent disappeared.”
His hand whipped off her thigh. Before she could mourn the loss, he’d wrapped his arm around her shoulders and tucked her head against his chest. His clean-manly scent infiltrated her senses, bringing a new sense of calm and excitement. Soothed by his touch and excited for more. She would’ve shared her story sooner, if she’d known he’d react this way.
Did it mean more to him? Or was he only being a nice guy?
“I didn’t have enough money saved to get another lease. I’d already given up my apartment in New York. Quit my job.” She sniffled, and his other arm wrapped around her. She burrowed into him, feeling cherished. “I’d planned to live in my grandparents’ house. The house they left me. The house I wanted to raise my children in.” The torture ripped through her picturing how it should’ve been. Small children with dark, curly hair, playing on the wide front porch. A loving husband. One who cherished and protected. One like Reed.
“I’m sorry.” His hand massaged her back, and she melted into him.
“I had to sell my home.” Sniffling again, she couldn’t stop the tears from falling. “My memories.”
He leaned back and wiped the wetness from her cheeks with his fingers. His compassion and understanding made her less embarrassed and more attracted. “Have you tried to find the disreputable agent?”
She nodded. She’d contacted the Better Business Bureau and the New York police. Besides taking the report, there wasn’t much they could do. “That’s why I love it here. People are so honest and trustworthy. No one local would lie or take advantage.”
By stopping their earlier kiss, he’d proven it. She’d been upset about being a stand-in, but willing to go along for the ride. Reed had put a stop to their passion.
He shifted. “For the most part.” He dropped his arms from her and reeled away.
Her stomach flipped and hung on an edge of anxiety. Had Reed lied to her about something? The lease or the dance studio? His fiancée or his feelings?
“I hate being lied to.” Her muscles hardened, showing the determination she was known for. “And I hate being made a fool.”
Chapter Thirteen
Early the following morning, Reed snuck into the dance studio to finish the lights before Quinn came to work. He hadn’t slept well last night, with several forms of guilt choking him. He and his brother lied to Quinn with their trickery, and she hated liars. Which he totally understood after the way she’d been cheated.
He was a liar, and he coveted the woman his brother had dated. In high school, that wasn’t a huge problem. In the past they’d dated plenty of each other’s ex-girlfriends. Right now, with Dax so vulnerable, Reed found his needs hard to justify. Especially if Quinn only felt sympathy toward him.
Dax’s ex-girlfriend, the first woman his brother had ever had a real relationship with, had hit on Reed. She’d given some lame excuse about how he was mysterious and needy. He and Dax had gotten into a huge blow-up. Reed had never encouraged the woman. He hadn’t been interested in her or anyone else. When Dax had believed they were a happy couple once more, the woman had cheated on him with someone else. Hence the recent breakup, which had brought Dax to his lowest point, his most vulnerable.
Coming out of the storage area with the lights, Reed almost ran into Quinn. She backed around the corner to take a position by the front counter. Her expression rearranged from shock to welcoming, except her smile was too sunny, her eyes too bright, and her good morning too stiff.
Had her night been sleepless, too? “Morning.” He purposely left the good off.
Tension rose between th
em. There was no dance music to fill the awkward silence. She’d come down the stairs when he’d been tortured and playing the piano as a friend. She wasn’t lusting after him. He needed to act normal. The kiss yesterday meant nothing. He cleared his throat. “You’re at work early.”
Biting her lower lip, Quinn stood. She wore tights and a short, clingy, layered skirt. The top stretched across her slim waist and small breasts. She stretched to the tips of her toes—a nervous habit he’d noticed. “I’m worried about today.”
First day of her free classes. He softened with sympathy, and the awkwardness disappeared. He took a step forward, planning to give her a hug. Images of their last comforting hug crescendoed in his mind. Comfort had morphed to passion. Passion to lust and lost control.
He stopped and stiffened. No friendly hug, because for him the hug would be so much more than friendly. “You’ll be great.”
“What if the kids don’t listen? What if their mothers hate how I teach?” She sounded like a small lost girl.
“How can they not love you?” His voice rasped with the need to assure and comfort.
Everyone who met Quinn loved her. Izzy, Danielle, Brianna. Dax.
Reed’s lungs tightened. He had to remember Dax.
She held out her hand, reaching for Reed, an automatic reaction. He leaned back, afraid to connect. Afraid the connection would become something more on his end.
She let her hand drop onto the counter. “I know it’s silly, but I’m scared.” The tremor in her voice had him tilting forward.
He wanted to reassure. There was nothing sexual about the way he placed his hand over hers on the counter. “I understand.” And he did. He remembered the butterflies right before every concert. Except in his case, they’d been large bats. “Nerves can be a good thing. They heighten your performance.”
“Will you stay nearby? I’ll be better if you’re close.” Her lips pouted and her shimmering gaze begged.
He couldn’t say no. “Sure.”
What had started out awkward, turned into companionable silence. He worked on the lights and she organized for her first set of classes. She’d work at the computer, tie up small goody bags, and play song after song after song. Her face would pucker in concentration listening to each piece of music. She’d frown or smile and tap her feet. And look adorable doing it. She obviously loved music.
Something they had in common.
He staggered back and his heart leapt to a jumping melody. He loved music again. The antagonistic hatred was gone. There was no longer silence in his head, and he appreciated the sound. Rhythms pulsed and lyrics knocked around in his brain constantly. Even the tortured music he’d composed last night had left him with a cleansed attitude.
The bell above the door rang, and a gaggle of toddlers and parents came into the dance studio. The children’s eyes were wide, either excited or scared. The parents were curious.
“Welcome.” Quinn stretched on her toes, and greeted each parent with a shake of the hand and a form to be filled out.
He couldn’t stop pride running through his veins. She was facing her fears, and not letting anything stop her. She’d planned and pushed forward. She’d faced adversity when she lost the original amount of money to invest in her business and found another way. She would do what it took to make the studio succeed.
A da da da daaaaa played in his mind. What about him and his fears? Fears hanging around him like an albatross for years. The music was inside him again. Was he willing to take the next step? To quit hiding?
Was he ready to face his fears?
“These introductory classes for the next two weeks are completely free. No obligation.” Her smile appeared a little tight and strained. He could see her nervousness. “I’m hoping your children will get a taste of how fun dancing can be in a non-stressful environment.”
A few parents nodded and murmured. A couple waved a greeting toward him. People he knew from school or business.
He watched, fascinated, by the way she handled the crowd. She knew the right things to say. In the past, he’d been good with crowds, and bad with management. He loved talking about music to an audience or to a classroom filled with kids. But ask him to schedule those presentations, or know where he needed to be and when, he was hopeless.
“I’ll be having a grand opening showcase and party. I’d love for your children to perform, and I’d love for all of you to watch and celebrate with me. You can invite friends and family, too. The more the merrier.” She laughed and it went straight to his gut.
He loved her laugh. The way it started out slow and low, and built into a joyful sound. The way it entered his ears and played in his mind like a musical trill before going to his chest and warming his heart.
After explaining the form to the parents, she gathered the kids in a circle. Each toddler introduced themselves and shared what they enjoyed about dancing.
He appreciated how once she’d explained things to the parents, she’d focused on the children. The class was for them and about them.
“Everybody on their feet and spread out.” She clicked on the music. “We’re going to dance off the jiggles.” She shook her feet and hands in a funny way.
She beamed. She was cute and fun and good with kids.
He could imagine her running around with a trio of her own toddlers, teaching them to dance. The kids would be athletic and musically talented because he’d teach them…he’d teach them?
He sucked in a sharp breath. Shaking his head, he knocked the image out of his mind. It kept returning. Because those kids he imagined of Quinn’s? They were his kids, too. A yearning grew inside him. For kids, and for Quinn. The yearning clogged his throat. The wish to be a family with Quinn excited and scared. He’d promised his brother he wasn’t interested. Except he was.
The toddlers shook their limbs and giggled dancing around to a merry beat.
“Everyone pretend you’re a snake.” She put her palms together and slithered up from a crouched position. Her hips swayed back and forth. Her shoulders dipped and rose. Her hands lifted above her head, tightening the Lycra material across her chest and emphasizing her breasts.
Desire went on high alert, and his manhood hardened. To him, she appeared more like an exotic dancer than a reptile.
Time for him to leave before he embarrassed himself. Or his lust combined with the urge to have children with Quinn became so urgent he carried her up the stairs to bed.
* * *
Exhausted and happy, Quinn relaxed in the office chair, putting her feet on the counter. The two toddler dance classes she’d taught had gone well. The kids had been cute and rambunctious with lots of enthusiasm. She couldn’t wait to see how their dance for the showcase turned out.
“That went well this morning.” Reed walked in, carrying a tray with sandwiches and two lemonades, and she’d never seen anything so scrumptious.
Reed and the tray of food.
He wore the same brown construction boots and tight jeans showing off his butt. His red flannel shirt was unbuttoned, revealing a tight, white T-shirt underneath, emphasizing his hard pecs.
“It did.” She’d noticed he’d disappeared sometime during the first class, once she’d settled in to teaching. “I appreciate you hanging around while you could.”
She appreciated a lot of things about Reed. He was dependable, and always there for her. His quiet command of a situation, his support, his sexy smile.
“No worries.” He set the tray on the counter. “I made lunch. Turkey sandwiches.”
“You read my mind.” She ate a lot, because she burned a lot of calories dancing. Other guys she’d dated thought she didn’t eat because she was thin, or thought she had dietary restrictions because she was a ballet dancer. Reed didn’t treat her like a celebrity, maybe because he understood. “I’m starving.”
He perched on the edge of the counter, his thigh bumping against her feet. His body heat scorched her toes, and she curled them to stop herself from reaching out to him.
Start with friendship.
Keep telling yourself that, Quinn. Her humming body wasn’t listening to her mind. She couldn’t stop the attraction sparking every time he was near.
And he was near. She took a big bite out of the sandwich, instead of taking a big bite of Reed. This time.
“I’ve taught classes for the NY ballet. Older students who had a passion for dance. This—” She waved her sandwich toward the dance floor. “—is completely different. These toddlers have never danced. I want to make it fun.”
“By the laughter and smiles on the kids’ faces, I say you succeeded.” He toasted her with his glass of lemonade.
“Thanks.” The humming slowed to a happy buzz. She took another bite and contemplated the future. She could see her studio being a success. She could see herself being happy teaching dancing in Castle Ridge, having friends close by, having Reed bring her lunch during the day.
The low croon came to a scratching halt. If she wanted to make a relationship with him occur, she’d have to make it happen. She didn’t know if it was his brotherly code or his dead fiancée but something held him back.
She picked up the stereo remote and tried to click it on. “The stereo system keeps flickering out.” She clicked it off and on again.
“Might be a bad connection. I can take a look at it for you.”
“That would be great.” Taking another bite, she watched him from lowered eyelids. He took a long swallow of lemonade, and his Adam’s apple went up and down. The action fascinated. It was so manly. “I Googled you last night.” Which was how she learned he was a minor celebrity.
A frightened expression crossed his face. “You did?”
Her nerves jittered. “Don’t be mad.”
“I’m not mad.” Except, his chin tucked in, and his smile disappeared.
Wanting to discover more of his background and what other issues might be holding him back, she’d researched. “You were famous.”
“Almost as famous as you.” Reed set down his half-eaten sandwich. Obviously, her discussion topic had taken away his appetite. “I did some Googling of my own. Once you moved in.”
The Romance Dance: Castle Ridge Small Town Romance Page 15
