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Strictly Come Dating (The Kathryn Freeman Romcom Collection, Book 3)

Page 25

by Kathryn Freeman


  Seb wanted to believe her. Certainly, Paul had never understood Maggie’s passion for dance, and that was one thing Seb knew he could give her. He wanted to give so much more, yet realistically how could he, when he didn’t have his own life in order?

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Maggie had never danced so much in her life. There was work, a break when she had a few hours with the girls, and there was dance. At least that’s how it had felt in the past week. She knew Seb was starting to worry about the competition: not only their dance, but the evening itself.

  ‘What if nobody turns up?’ he mumbled as they walked into their usual Wednesday dance class.

  ‘I thought you’d sold a lot of tickets?’

  ‘It depends on how you define a lot. And just because they’ve bought a ticket, doesn’t mean they’ll turn up. It’s not going to be much of a competition if nobody’s there to vote. Or those that entered don’t turn up to dance.’

  ‘Hey.’ She tugged his hand, halting him before they entered the studio. ‘Where’s all this coming from?’

  He dropped his gaze to the floor, drew in a breath and then seemed to shake himself. ‘Sorry. It’s just I haven’t done anything like this before, put on an event. I’m getting jittery.’

  ‘This from the man who rides roller coasters, jumps out of aeroplanes and swims with sharks?’

  ‘Turns out sharks are a piece of cake compared to putting on a dance competition.’

  ‘So it’s the event that’s giving you jitters, not our rumba?’

  She’d meant it as a tease, and though he smiled back, his eyes locked on hers with an intensity that surprised her. ‘I’m dancing with you. Even if I balls up, I know you’ll be there to carry us through.’

  ‘Who’s carrying who?’ Shirley burst through the doors, breaking the moment. ‘It’ll take a strong man to get me up in the air.’ She waggled her eyebrows at Seb. ‘But I’m game for trying out a lift if you are.’

  ‘That’s quite an offer,’ he murmured. Then, to her astonishment, and clearly to Shirley’s too, because she shrieked like a teenager, Seb scooped the older lady into his arms. ‘Bloody hell, Shirley, you’re not exactly light.’

  As Maggie bent over with laughter, Shirley cackled. ‘I’m a lot of woman to handle, I’ll give you that.’

  Panting, Seb eased her back onto her feet. ‘Sorry, but I need to do some serious weight training before we can do that lift.’

  ‘You do that, dear. I’ll be waiting. Might even squeeze myself into a slinky sequinned number for the occasion.’ Maggie had to bite into her lip to stop from laughing again as Seb’s face paled. Clearly oblivious of the alarmingly vivid image she’d created, Shirley moved the conversation on. ‘I’m glad I’ve caught you. Me and Pauline want to enter this competition of yours. We figured who needs a man to dance with in this day and age? Especially as the ones here are about as useful as a glass hammer. Present company excepted.’ She reached up to give Seb a loud smacker of a kiss on his cheek. ‘Anyway, Pauline and me, we’re going to pioneer the way for same-sex dancing in Attlestone. You did say there was a group for us not so youngies?’

  ‘There’s an over-sixty category, yes.’ Seb treated Shirley to one of his trademark smiles. ‘Though I’ll need proof of ID from you both, obviously.’

  Shirley boomed out a laugh, looking over to Maggie. ‘He’s a right charmer, this one, isn’t he?’ She bent and whispered in a volume loud enough they probably heard it through the door and in the studio. ‘Did you two get it together after we had our little chat in the pub?’

  Dear God. Maggie looked helplessly at Seb, who was no help, his face wreathed with silent laughter. ‘I… err, that is we—’

  Seb interrupted her rambling to lift her in the air. With their mouths aligned, he proceeded to give her a very thorough, toe-curling kiss. When he finally let her down, sliding her slowly, sensuously against his body, he turned to Shirley. ‘Does that answer your question?’

  Shirley’s eyes were so wide they were in danger of popping out of her head. ‘Oh my. That’s going to be quite a rumba.’

  For the second day on the trot, Seb’s dancing wasn’t quite as sharp as it had been BB – before Blackpool. The steps were there, but the fluidity wasn’t. As she mused on it while Seb drove her home, Maggie realised it wasn’t just his dancing that was different, it was Seb. She’d put it down to worries about the competition, but now she wondered if there was more to it than that. He seemed distracted. As if he was thinking heavily about something. Her thoughts kept circling back to the same conclusion.

  Was his time up here? Was he heading back to Australia?

  Seb pulled to a halt outside her house and turned to look at her. ‘You’ve been quiet since we left the class. Is everything okay?’

  She shook her head. ‘Funny, I was going to say the same to you.’

  His eyes rounded. ‘Me? I’m fine.’ But when he didn’t look her in the eye, she knew for certain something was up. He was the most open person she’d ever met. She could usually tell what he was feeling just from searching his eyes.

  Not now.

  ‘Do you want to come in?’

  Since her birthday, he’d started to stay over a few nights a week, but had always been careful to leave before the girls woke up.

  Finally his gaze met hers. ‘You don’t need to ask.’ But then he sighed. ‘Damn, I’ve an early start tomorrow, and I need to catch Mum before she goes to bed, so can I take a raincheck on that?’

  The creeping worry she’d felt earlier intensified. ‘Fine, no problem.’ Trying not to let her disappointment show, she reached for the door handle, but before she had a chance to pull it he’d run round to open it for her. ‘Thanks.’

  He held her hand as they walked up the path to her front door. ‘I didn’t ask about Tabs. Is she still causing havoc with her crutches?’

  ‘Of course. I caught Penny trying to hide them from her yesterday. She said, and I quote, “Tabby was a pain without her crutches, Mum, but with them she’s, like, really annoying.”’

  Seb laughed. ‘Poor Penny, she’s got a handful for a sister, that’s for sure.’ When they reached the door, he hesitated a moment. ‘Have you spoken to her about being a bridesmaid?’

  ‘No, why?’

  ‘Might be nothing, but when Paul mentioned it at the hospital I got a feeling Penny wasn’t very enthusiastic about the idea.’

  ‘She hasn’t said anything to me. Neither has Paul.’

  ‘Maybe he hasn’t realised.’ Seb shifted on his feet, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. ‘Penny’s a lot like you. She’s responsible, likes to do the right thing.’ Exhaling heavily, he jammed his hands in his pockets. ‘Sorry, you don’t need me to tell you that.’

  ‘No.’ But wow, the fact that he understood her daughter so well touched her more than he could know. ‘Thank you for looking out for her. I’ll talk to her about it.’ Her heart felt full, her emotions wild and heavy as she reached a hand to his face. ‘You know if you want to talk about anything, I’m here.’

  He inhaled, trapping her hand with his, his eyes fluttering shut. When they opened again, they blazed with raw feeling. ‘I’ve got stuff on my mind, stuff I need to sort through.’ He let out a soft, humourless laugh. ‘I’m a twenty-seven-year-old guy currently living with his mum, Mags.’

  ‘There are reasons for that. Loving, decent, kind reasons.’

  He acknowledged her words with an incline of his head. ‘When I came back I didn’t factor in Dad dying.’ His gaze pressed hers, his voice softening. ‘I didn’t factor in meeting you.’

  Maggie’s pulse quickened, her voice barely making it through the lump in her throat. ‘And now?’

  He ran a hand down his face, his gaze a whirl of blue: indigo, cobalt, cornflower. ‘Now I need to go before I do what I really want to do. Follow you in and get lost inside you.’ His lips touched hers, tender, sweet, belying the heat in his eyes.

  A moment later she watched him stride back down the
path, broad shoulders braced, blond hair ruffled in the wind. A man too bright, too bold, too adventurous for her to hope to hold onto. What had Shirley called him? Exotic. Seb wasn’t meant to be caged, hemmed in by the monotony of everyday life. The very life that Maggie didn’t just live, she thrived on. Seb had tried to persuade her, and himself, that she wasn’t that person, but career, family, responsibility… it was what she knew, what she did well. She needed the stability it provided.

  Seb needed action, unpredictability. It was why he’d end up going back to his life on the Great Barrier Reef before no doubt packing up again and setting off somewhere new and exciting.

  The knowledge was heartbreaking, because while she was careful and cautious with every other part of her life, it seemed that, once again, she hadn’t been careful and cautious with her heart. Still so fragile, it was irresponsible of her to give it to someone so casual in his approach to life.

  Yet when Seb left her, she knew he would take it with him.

  As Seb drove away from Maggie’s, his heart felt heavy. Funny, he’d always imagined when he finally fell in love, it would feel the opposite – light, filled with excitement and joy for the future. Then again, he’d also always imagined having a fair idea what that future held, by the time he met the woman he wanted to spend it with.

  The sound of his phone ringing was a welcome distraction. Pulling into a side road – none of that fancy hands-free stuff for his old Fiesta – he pressed answer. ‘Seb here.’ There was a long pause at the other end. ‘Who is this?’

  Finally a gruff young voice. ‘Me, Rylan.’

  Seb felt a sliver of alarm. ‘What’s up, buddy? You okay?’

  ‘Yeah. Just chillin’ with me bro’ and his mates.’ He sounded fine, and Seb’s pulse began to return to normal. ‘You said to call, if I wanted.’

  ‘I meant it. How can I help?’

  ‘This lot all say dancing is for pansies.’

  So Rylan had been talking about the lessons to his brother. Interesting. ‘What does your dad say?’

  Rylan snorted. ‘Like he cares what I do.’

  Damn. Seb had expected that, but still, it angered him to realise he’d been right. ‘Okay, you know what, it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. The only person’s view that’s important here is yours, Rylan. If you enjoy dancing, if you like the idea of entering a competition, of showing people what you’re capable of, then go for it. You know it’s bloody hard to dance properly. Your dad, your brother and his mates, none of them can do what you can. Be proud of that, whether you choose to carry on with it or not.’

  Silence. Had he even been listening? But just as Seb began to give up hope, Rylan spoke again. ‘If I want to enter the competition… I mean, not that I will, but if I did… when do I have to decide?’

  ‘Just let me know a few days before.’

  ‘’Kay.’

  As Rylan ended the call, Seb wondered if a man who couldn’t work out his own life,was really the best person to be advising a kid like Rylan.

  His mum was still up. Seb could tell because when he opened the front door he was hit with a blast of Frank Sinatra. His dad’s favourite. An oldie but goodie, he’d always retorted when anyone had dared to take the piss.

  Seb’s heart twisted at the memory.

  ‘I’m back,’ he called out. ‘Can you tell Frank to quieten down before he decimates my eardrums?’

  The volume lessened, and Seb breathed a sigh of relief as he chucked his coat over the bannister – yeah, his mum would have a go at him later, but she always did it with a gleam in her eye.

  ‘I hope you’ve hung your coat up,’ she called from the sitting room.

  ‘Why would I do that, when you enjoying nagging me about it so much?’ Smiling to himself, he walked down the hall and into the kitchen. ‘I’m making myself a tea. Do you want one?’

  There was a moment of silence, long enough for him to worry and pop his head around the door. ‘Mum?’

  She looked up and gave him a small smile. ‘For the conversation I think we’re about to have, maybe a whisky would be more appropriate.’

  He felt a dart of surprise, then wondered why, because unlike his dad, his mum had always been able to read him. ‘Two whiskies it is then.’

  It was only when he sat down next to her, he realised he didn’t have a clue where to start. So much was going through his head, so many things he needed to work through.

  She nudged her elbow into his side. ‘Don’t look so worried. It’s time, my dear son.’

  He frowned, not understanding. ‘Time for what?’

  ‘For me to no longer be your responsibility.’ He opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off. ‘You have no idea how much I appreciate all you’ve done for me.’ She laid a hand on his, her voice catching. ‘But it’s time for you to live your own life. You only came over to help me with your father, and yet you’re still here, four months later.’

  He took a large swig of the whisky. ‘Shit—’

  ‘Language. I’m still your mother and I can still tell you off.’

  ‘Sorry.’ He gave her a sheepish smile. ‘Has it really been that long?’

  ‘Long enough for your tan to have faded.’

  He rolled his eyes, but inside he thought, long enough to have fallen in love.

  He felt her fingers curl around his. ‘It’s time for you to stop thinking about me, and start thinking about yourself. What do you want to do next, Seb? And if that involves going back to Australia, don’t you hesitate, not for a second. I’ll be fine. I have to start getting used to being by myself, and your sisters will keep an eye on me. Make sure I don’t get into trouble.’

  Emotion balled in his chest and he struggled to form his words. ‘Isn’t that what you tried to get them to do for me?’

  She smiled fondly. ‘I suspect I’ll give them an easier time than you did. Always dashing off, you were, never telling us where you were going. It drove me potty.’

  ‘I didn’t tell you, because I didn’t know.’

  Her eyes, once blue like his but faded now, searched his face. ‘Do you know now?’

  ‘I think so.’ It scared the shit out of him, had done ever since he’d come back from Blackpool, but he hadn’t made a move yet because he needed to be sure. He also had to acknowledge that whatever he decided – go back to Oz, or stay and make a go of things here – Maggie shouldn’t be the driving force behind his decision. It was brutal, but he couldn’t afford to kid himself. The woman he’d fallen in love with didn’t see a future for them. ‘Don’t worry, Mum, I won’t do anything until I’m absolutely certain it’s what I want.’

  ‘And in the meantime?’

  He stared into his whisky. ‘I’ve got plenty to keep me occupied.’

  ‘You mean the dance competition? Your father wouldn’t stop harping on about it. Kept bothering me with questions. Has Seb thought of this, has he done that.’

  The guilt he’d spoken to Maggie about, that last conversation with his dad, came crashing back. ‘I should have listened to him,’ he admitted. ‘Picked his brain more, rather than assume I knew what I was doing.’ He hung his head, the worries from earlier weighing down on him. He wanted so badly to prove to himself, to his family, to Maggie, that he was more than a backpacking traveller who’d drifted in and out of jobs, moving on when the mood took him.

  His mum caught his eye and furnished him with one of her steely looks. ‘Your father was a wonderful dad, and a wonderful husband, but there was one thing he didn’t do well, and that was understand you.’ She patted his hand. ‘You weren’t, and never will be, driven to succeed like he was, and like your sisters are. You were always more about the journey than the destination. It means you take time to appreciate the small things, like wanting to get your hands on those blasted toboggans the moment it began to snow.’ She chuckled, shaking her head at the memory. ‘It also means you notice things others miss, like the fact that the youth centre could do with an outside basketball court. And you listen to
people, like your old mum, who said she was fine when your dad died, but you knew she wasn’t, so you moved in with her.’ She eyed him speculatively. ‘That’s why you’re so good with kids. Maggie has girls, doesn’t she?’

  He wasn’t sure where this was going. ‘Yes, two. Penny is the more studious, the more careful, but she’s sharp as a tack and has a real caring side. Tabby is a handful, into new experiences, not afraid of anything, including speaking her mind. A giggler. She cracks me up.’

  A smile lit up his mum’s face. ‘There, you’ve just proved my point. You don’t see them as kids, you see them as people. That sort of empathy is rare, so don’t keep knocking yourself for what you aren’t. Be proud of what you are.’ A lump rose to his throat, and it threatened to choke him when she leant forward and kissed his cheek. ‘And what you are, my beautiful son, is capable of doing anything you set your mind to.

  Chapter Thirty

  She’d spent the last hour wrapping her legs around Seb’s hips, being twirled round and round, then sliding suggestively down his thigh. It felt more intimate than sex. Especially when one of the hands he was supposed to be using to hold her upright shifted from her back to her stomach, and then sensuously up towards her breasts.

  ‘I don’t remember that being part of Belinda’s routine.’ Maggie leant back up, still straddling his thigh, her voice sounding breathless. And it wasn’t from exertion.

  He gave her a smile loaded with sexual promise, hand gliding across her breasts, down over her stomach, and then back up again. Leaving a trail of heat wherever he touched. ‘She said we could add our own touches.’ For a moment his gaze dipped to where his hand now covered her left breast, which tingled and ached beneath her sports bra. ‘I’m a big fan of this particular touching.’

  The heat in his eyes made her feel desirable, wanted, and she arched her back, encouraging his exploration. Two hands returned to support her spine, but then she felt the heat of his mouth as it trailed across her bare stomach. ‘Christ, you’re so fucking sexy.’

 

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