The Romance Dance: Castle Ridge Small Town Romance

by Burton, Allie

  “I wasn’t famous.” She set her own sandwich down, no longer hungry. Her curiosity had ruined both their appetites, and she was sorry. Sometimes a girl needed to know. “A faceless ballerina. You were the pianist for the symphony, you wrote beautiful music. For the symphony and Broadway.”

  Standing, he wheeled around and took a few steps away.

  Knowing she should stop, she didn’t. She wanted to know everything about him, needed to know. “How could you give it up?” What had driven him to walk away from a legendary career?

  “I didn’t.” He swiveled toward her. His brows gathered in an angry storm. His mouth hardened, and his eyes glinted, resembling hard stones. “The music, the job left me. I deserved it.”

  “The accident wasn’t your fault.” She stood and moved toward him, needing to convince him. “Once you accept you aren’t to blame, you can move forward with your career.” And maybe a relationship.

  “You don’t know all the details.” His harsh tone scraped against her spine. “I didn’t tell you everything.”

  Ignoring the torment, she grabbed his shoulders, pressing her fingers into his arms to make her point. “I don’t need to know the details. I know you. I believe in you.” She wanted to convince him. Maybe if he heard it enough times he’d believe.

  He shook off her touch, making her feel like a leech. His stormy expression crashed, as if thunder. He stomped out of the dance studio, leaving her standing in the middle of the floor.

  Alone.

  She remembered the loneliness. Emptiness. Nothingness. Quiet desperation.

  Didn’t matter what she believed, he didn’t believe in himself. And until he did, he’d never be emotionally available.

  * * *

  Quinn’s stomach rotated one way and then the other all afternoon. She hadn’t seen Reed for the rest of the day. So much for being friends. In addition, the middle-school students would be arriving any moment, and they were going to be a tougher sell than the toddlers. She hoped a few boys came, because she wanted to teach them that dancing was manly. She wanted to break through the stereotypical vision of a male dancer.

  A group of eight girls and two boys showed up. She gave the parents the general information, and started the kids in fun stretching exercises. While the toddler classes had been about movement and having fun, the middle-school classes were going to learn real dance steps.

  “We’re going to start with basic steps in ballet and move from there into tap and maybe hip hop.” She demonstrated the ballet positions. “Follow me.”

  The bell rang above the door. Sara dragged her mother inside. The girl’s determined expression contrasted with the mother’s obstinate one.

  Quinn’s worry doubled, even while her spirits lightened. The girl wanted to be here. “I’m glad you came.”

  The girl moved slightly behind her mother. Wanting and being confident were two different things.

  “To watch.” The mother’s stern tone told her she didn’t want to be persuaded. She was here against her wishes.

  The earlier lightness dampened. She needed to convince the mother to let Sara go, and convince Sara she could dance.

  A couple of the kids on the dance floor snickered.

  Quinn shot them a warning glance. The other kids weren’t helping the situation. “There’s room. Come join us.”

  The girl buried her head into her mother’s hip.

  “Okay.” She wanted to try to persuade, but she also need to pay attention to the rest of the class. “If you want to join at any time, you’re welcome.”

  Turning her back from the door, she continued demonstrating the moves, watching each kid imitate. She spotted Reed come through the back door.

  He paused and took in the class. The blood in her veins rushed at his presence.

  “Second position.” Automatically, she gave the instruction, and moved into the correct position.

  Reed moved to the door and squatted by the girl. He said something she couldn’t hear. The girl beamed. The mother appeared less sure.

  What were they discussing? “Third position.” She moved into the next position.

  He took off his heavy construction boots and held out his hand. “Come on, Sara-Smile.”

  The girl slipped out of her coat and clung to his hand like a lifeline. The two of them limped onto the dance floor together.

  Her heart melted with his sweetness. “You two can take a spot over there.” Her voice scratched and her eyes stung.

  “Everyone, let’s welcome Mr. O’Donnell and Sara to class.” Quinn’s entire body trembled. This beautiful man made the effort to make a disabled girl comfortable. He put himself and his limp in the spotlight of teasing adolescents to help the girl. She didn’t know if she could execute the next move. “Do a plié.”

  He was such a good man. Strong, caring, thoughtful.

  He and Sara bent their knees and lowered, grinning at each other.

  Quinn’s tremulous smile forecast her emotions. She had to hold herself together in front of the class.

  He smiled at the young girl. Her brilliant return smile glowed with happiness. She wanted to dance and she wanted to be accepted. Reed had accomplished both. He was a hero to the young girl.

  And to Quinn.

  He caught her stare and sent her a lopsided grin. A grin saying, what else could I do?

  Other men, less sympathetic and good-natured men, would’ve ignored the plea in the girl’s gaze. Wouldn’t have risked their own pride to help a child. He did all of those things and so many more.

  She thought of his attention to detail when working on her studio, his giving in when she’d convinced him to go out, even though he didn’t want to, his care when she’d been injured, his comfort when she’d been nervous this morning. And his kiss.

  She couldn’t forget his kiss.

  Her heartbeat raced ahead of the dance music. Her chest swelled. Her pulse thrummed with knowing and needing and wanting and…

  …loving.

  She was falling for Reed.

  Chapter Fourteen

  That night, Reed had showered and changed into pressed, black jeans and a soft button-down shirt, before pacing around the back hallway of the dance studio. He was early for the adult classes. He heard the laughter of the high school girls finishing their lesson. The hip hop music bounced against the wall and his nerves. He hadn’t seen Quinn since saying goodbye to his dance partner in the middle-school class. While she’d talked to parents, he’d escaped out the back. He didn’t want to overhear the kids or the parents discussing his performance.

  Helping Sara had been his only goal. She’d faced her fears this afternoon, and would be coming back to dance. He was proud of her. Maybe he needed to face his own fears. If a twelve-year-old could push herself past the comfort zone, why couldn’t he?

  His phone clanged with a text message from Dax. I haven’t texted Quinn since I left town. What should I say?

  Reed throttled the phone. He’d done enough with his brother’s date already. They’d lied to her, and he hoped if she ever found out she’d forgive him. What do you want to say?

  Don’t know. Need help. Typical Dax—short and to the point.

  Guilt cut across Reed’s frustration. Guilt for kissing Quinn and for helping his brother. He had to put a stop to the romantic consultation. Let Dax fly or bomb on his own. Speak from your heart.

  Heart still isn’t talking to me. Dax’s agony from the recent breakup was understandable, but he couldn’t use the excuse forever, and he couldn’t use Reed.

  He didn’t want Quinn to be a rebound girlfriend. He’d thought Dax and Quinn would be social, help her meet people in town and help him get his groove back. Be friends and have some fun. Now that Reed knew her, he realized she wasn’t looking for fun, she was looking for something deeper. Dax couldn’t give her deep, not in his current state of mind. Could Reed?

  He shifted his feet and listened to the voices in the studio, not really wanting to go out there. Ask her how the free
classes are going.

  Any friend would ask the question. He wasn’t using poetry or words from his song to help. Plus, Dax would have to form his own sentence.

  “Hi, Mr. O’Donnell.” Brianna stepped out of the bathroom. She wore black leggings and a long T-shirt with a skiing design.

  “Hi, Bri-Bird. How’s dance class?” He’d tell Quinn if the answer was positive.

  “Surprisingly fun.” The teen flashed a smile. “Are you taking the adult class?”

  “I am.” He bowed his head. He’d hated dancing in front of the kids and their parents today. It was going to be worse in front of friends and other adults from town. Their judgments already pounded in his mind.

  “So’s my mom.” Brianna waved and headed onto the dance floor. “Class is almost done. Gotta go.”

  The music stopped a few minutes later, and the chatty girls picked up in volume. Noticing the time on his phone, he contemplated using the back exit.

  The chime above the door rang and rang, people leaving and entering. Too many people. It was time. Pivoting, he headed toward the back door. Only Quinn would realize he was a no-show. No one else would expect him to dance. At the last second, he swiveled around and marched toward the studio. He’d promised Quinn he’d be there. He didn’t break his promises.

  She stood by the front door, greeting newcomers, handing out paperwork, and smiling. Her gracefulness and beauty took his breath away. Her head turned, as if sensing him. She stared for a second, and then her cheeks reddened and she glanced away.

  Did she regret promising to be his partner tonight? He probably resembled an ogre next to the child-sized students this afternoon.

  “Gather round, everyone.” She waved at him. “Who needs partners?”

  He dragged his foot and his bad attitude toward her in the middle of the dance floor. He should grab Danielle as a partner, leaving Quinn to dance with someone else except he wanted to hold her in his arms again. To hold her nubile body against his. Basically, to torture himself. He slammed his cell phone on the counter.

  A couple of people nearby jumped, and he whispered an apology. He didn’t want anyone else sensing his foul mood.

  She put couples together. Izzy went with some loser named Edward. Danielle with Parker. A few other people had come together. Shifting on his feet, he stood alone on the dance floor. People probably believed he was the odd man out. He wasn’t. Dancing with Quinn he should feel like the luckiest guy in the room.

  “We’re going to start with a simple waltz.” She clicked on the music. “The steps are simple.” She described the simple box step while fluidly moving across the floor.

  Dread slowed his pulse. Even though they’d practiced, he’d never keep up with her. Not with his dead-weight of a foot. And as the teacher’s partner, he’d be in the spotlight. Everyone would be watching.

  A clanging rang above the music.

  She frowned and marched to the counter. “Cell phones should be on silent during class.”

  Panic punctured his lungs, squeezing the air out. His phone. When he’d slammed it on the counter he’d forgotten the phone there. She might see Dax’s texts on the notifications.

  Reed lunged toward the phone. “It’s mine.”

  He tripped and tipped forward. His hands stretched out, trying to block his fall. A weightless sensation tingled across his skin. He teetered in the air, and fell to the hard ground. Pain shot from contact with the floor. His shoulder took the brunt, but his pride hurt the most. Lying on his side, he was too embarrassed to attempt a funny line or a quick recovery.

  Izzy hurried over. She’d hovered like a mother hen since he’d returned to Castle Ridge. “Are you all right?”

  “I’ll help him, Izzy. Go back to your partner.” Quinn bent down with a look of concern and stroked his arm. Sparks swooshed from her fingers and up his skin reducing the pain.

  The sparks did nothing to stop his mortification. “I can get up on my own.”

  “Are you injured?” Sympathy swam in her gaze.

  He didn’t want or need any more sympathy. “Just my ego.” He got to his feet with only a wobble.

  “Come sit on the bench.” She gripped his arm, trying to lead.

  He yanked away from her. “I’m not a baby.” Smashing his lips together, he felt even more stupid for being mean.

  “Fine.” Her chin pulled in, clearly insulted. She slapped his phone into his hand and pivoted toward the class making him a bigger jerk. “Everyone, your hands should be at shoulder and lower back.”

  Dragging himself to the bench, he took note of any damage. No new pain. He was fine. He should’ve let Quinn help, even if it was only to extend her touch on his body. Which he shouldn’t want or angle for. Playing with his shoelaces, he pretended the fall was his shoes’ fault while he got his stupidity under control.

  “Very good.” Quinn held her arms up to her invisible partner. “Move to the beat. One, two, three, one, two, three.”

  He’d wanted to be invisible until Quinn came to town. Hide behind his job and his injury. Not go out in public. Stick to himself. He still wanted to do that, didn’t he? Doubts invaded and he stretched his leg, trying to work the kinks out of his mind. He’d enjoyed spending time with Quinn, going out to dinner and eating lunch in the studio, holding her in his arms.

  She’d faced her fears today. Sweet Sara had faced her fears. Why couldn’t he?

  “Keep moving.” Quinn waltzed to him. “Are you ready to go back onto the dance floor?”

  His body leapt at the opportunity. He wanted to hold her again. “No.”

  Angling her head, she studied him. He wanted to squirm. “I’m not sure what the big rush was to get your phone, so you tripped. Everybody trips. No big deal.”

  His shoulders scrunched ready to hide. “I made a fool of myself.”

  “If I quit every time I fell, I never would’ve made it through my first ballet class.” She gave him a you’re-being-ridiculous expression. “I saw you with Sara today. If she fell, would you have left her on the dance floor? Would you have let her quit?”

  “Of course not.” The young girl only needed practice and confidence.

  Quinn held out her hand. “Then, let’s dance.” Her lips tipped into an assured-serene-challenging smile, lighting up his insides and his motivation.

  Maybe that’s all he needed. Practice dancing, more confidence with Quinn.

  * * *

  The following night more couples joined the free dance lesson. Reed didn’t trip or embarrass himself. Everyone had fun. Dancing with Quinn in his arms had been wonderful. Their bodies moved in tune together like magic. They’d floated across the dance floor.

  “Let’s go out for drinks,” his social sister suggested after class.

  His immediate reaction had been a big fat no. Then, he spotted Quinn with a glimmer in her eyes and a smile on her face. She wanted to go out. She wanted to meet people and make friends.

  He’d already traveled out of his comfort zone with dance class. What was one beer? “Sure.”

  Izzy and Danielle had been shocked. Quinn delighted.

  And she was the only one who mattered.

  His pulse pumped hard once, and again. Quinn mattered. What she thought of him, how they interacted. He could sing a chorus of they were only friends, but in his heart he knew he wanted more. Their kiss the other night had been proof.

  He put on his coat and left with the other dancers. Together, they strolled to the local pub. Dazed, he kept quiet as they walked. His life had changed so much in such a short time.

  The fact he was headed to a bar with a group of friends and strangers was different. Before, he only talked with Izzy and Dax. And Dax’s ex-girlfriend, when she’d been forced upon Reed. And he hadn’t missed it. No spotlight. No socializing. No friends.

  Now, he missed the interaction. He was ready to put himself back out into the world.

  Because of Quinn.

  His lungs hitched.

  He was in a dance class. An ac
tivity he never thought of doing. He was opening himself up to new people and new experiences.

  Again, because of Quinn.

  His muscles twitched.

  He was playing music and composing. Nerves shivered across his skin, because he had to give credit to Quinn for that as well. And what happened if she left Castle Ridge, or dated someone else? What would happen to his music? And his life?

  His stomach pitched.

  He wanted to swoop her up and carry her back to the dance studio and never let her leave. And then, maybe he could kiss her again.

  They entered the bar, gave their drink orders, and settled in.

  Reed never thought he’d feel this way again. Lust and desire and… He stopped his thoughts, not wanting to go there, because temptation sat a barstool away.

  Leaning closer, he got a sniff of her rose scent.

  “I’m thinking of scrapping a building farther down on Main and starting fresh.” The man sitting on her other side said. Bob had joined the free classes tonight with his wife.

  One thing Reed was comfortable talking to strangers about was historic buildings and remodeling. “A lot of the buildings in town have great bones.”

  “Plus character,” Quinn added. She’d said how she appreciated the structure of the Victorian house the dance studio had been built in.

  Speaking of great bones. He smirked and she grinned. “That’s true.”

  He lost track of the conversation for a second, losing himself in the uniqueness of her bright smile. A smile that lifted first one side of her mouth and then the other. The smile spread across her entire face, rounding her cheeks, and putting a glimmer in her gaze.

  “What’s true?” Bob asked, interrupting Reed’s perusal of her beauty.

  He focused. “It would be worth having someone appraise your building. See how solid the structure is, and see if you can gut only the insides to make it work for your purpose.”

  “Good idea.” The man nodded in a thoughtful way. “You do that, don’t you?”

  “I do.” Tonight wasn’t about making deals. He’d always hated the hard sell. Discussing everything from work to politics to the ski season had been fun. He was enjoying himself.