by M.A. Stacie
Shae fought the urge to smile. She’d been so certain he’d walk out, refusing to try any harder. How wrong had she been? “Ella really is your niece, then?” she asked, still keeping her arms crossed over her chest.
“She is. She was so hyper after the lesson. I hope my ignorance doesn’t affect that.”
Somewhat offended, Shae stared at him. She would never take it out on the little girl. However, the more she thought about it, the more endearing it was. Ella was important to Trace, and that’s why he’d come to apologize. Her curiosity piqued again, this time wondering what had upset him so much the day they’d met. Her inquisitive nature always got her into trouble, and her mother had warned her about it more times than she cared to remember.
Some people assumed she was nosy; others were offended by the personal questions. She didn’t want Trace to feel either at this stage, and that was why she forced herself to swallow the questions. “I wouldn’t let my opinion alter the way I teach Ella.”
Trace cocked his head to the side. “And your opinion of me is?”
Snorting, Shae took a step back, putting some space between them. “I’m giving you a ‘no comment’ at this point. This is our second conversation, neither one of them the highlight of my day.”
“Ouch.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Jacks, should I have fallen at your feet when you apologized? Should I be thankful you took the time?”
Holding his palms up, Trace surrendered. “Do I have to apologize again?”
“No,” she said, telling herself she definitely was not growing to like him. No way. “I think you’ve said enough sorries for today.”
“Maybe I should come back tomorrow and reach my quota then?”
Shae couldn’t help it, she laughed. There was something about him, something that had her lips twitching and a giggle building. The man amused her. Sort of.
“I’ll take the laughter as a real good thing and leave you to finish your . . .” He waved his hand between them. “Your sweating thing. Thank you for accepting my apology, Shae.”
“Um, thanks for giving it?” It came out as a question rather than a statement.
Trace turned and began to walk out of the studio. She watched him leave, still smiling, and there was no way she was checking out his ass. The man had issues, and she should stay well away. No matter how much she loved his eyes.
“Thanks for an interesting . . . chat, Shae. It’s been fun. Good luck teaching the brats.”
Shae waved, even though he couldn’t see her. She was still smiling as he closed the door.
Chapter 6
Shae scowled as she told her mom for the fourth time that the dance studio was closed. It was after nine at night, and yet her mother seemed to think she had classes lined up. At first, she’d humored her, sarcasm rearing its head while Shae put her makeup on. She didn’t have time to keep going over the same thing. She was already running late.
Shae had arranged the girls’ night at Carter’s but it looked like she was going to be the one to show up late. Great.
“Look, Mom, I wouldn’t be going to a bar if I had a class to teach, would I?” She slicked on a subtle shade of lipstick and powdered her nose one last time. “I promise there are no classes until tomorrow.”
Lisbeth wrinkled her nose before raising her gin and tonic to her lips. She paused. “If you’re wrong, Shae, I’ll be very angry. I’ll have no choice but to ground you.”
Shae spluttered. “Mom, I’m not eight.”
Lisbeth blinked. “Of course you’re not, darling. How silly. Now go and have your fun. I’ll be going to bed soon.”
Confused by the change in her mother, Shae paused, waiting, wondering if she’d need to address the question again. When Lisbeth remained silent, eyes fixed on the television, she decided it was safe to leave.
“Right then, don’t wait up. And call me if you need anything.” She grabbed her jacket. “I won’t be back too late.”
Lisbeth waved her hand but remained watching the television, ending their conversation. Shae’s cab honked outside, the driver losing his patience. He wouldn’t wait around for much longer, so she picked up her purse and raced out of the house. Her heels clicked on the sidewalk, and a shiver raced down her spine as the frigid air floated around her. Pants and a sweater would have been better than the skirt and tank she had on.
Climbing into the cab, she gave the driver her destination just as her cell rang. The ringtone told her who it was before she heard Kate’s voice. “Hiya,” she greeted her friend.
“Where are you?”
Shae could barely hear Kate over the noise of the bar, and pressing the cell closer to her ear increased the din. “I can’t really hear you, but I can guess what you’re asking. I’m in the cab. I’ll be there in ten.”
“You have to hurry . . . amazing!”
“What?” Shae craned her neck toward the cell, hoping that would help decipher Kate’s words. She got nothing but cheering. “I still can’t hear you. Hang up. I’ll be there soon.”
Unsure whether Kate understood, she cut the call and then sent her a text. At least she’d understand that. While the cab rumbled along, she replied to a few e-mails, some personal and a few inquiries for the studio. One of them looked rather interesting, questioning whether they gave personal lessons and choreography for a wedding dance. They hadn’t done anything like that yet, but it could be something she’d enjoy. The choreography would be fun.
Typing out a response, she glanced out the window to see a line of people waiting along the sidewalk. “Busy here tonight, huh?”
The cab driver hummed, inching down the road toward Carter’s bar. “Guess everyone had the same idea as you tonight.”
“Sure looks that way. The bar is going to be packed.”
“Looks like the whole strip is.”
Grumbling, Shae pushed her cell back into her purse and checked her appearance one last time. The cab pulled up alongside the bar, and Shae handed over a few bills to pay for the fare. She could already see Kate and a few of her other friends waiting at the door. They’d been cleared through the rope cordon. As she exited the cab she waved, getting Kate’s attention. Excitement lit up the blonde’s face. Her painted, glossy pink lips curved upward as she beckoned Shae over. She spoke to the security man who raised the rope and ushered Shae through.
“Friends in high places, Kate?”
“Not at all. He’s my brother’s best friend.” She smoothed her hand down her fitted red dress. “I always kinda had a thing for him. He was way out of my league.”
Shae shoved her shoulder. “I’m not listening to that! Have you seen yourself? I’m surprised he’s not crawling along the sidewalk to get to you. Especially in that dress. You look hot.”
Kate blushed and grabbed Shae’s hand. She didn’t reply. She tugged her into the bar instead. “We’ve already been inside. It’s busy. We came outside to make sure you got in okay.”
The noise drowned out any further response and stopped any more conversation about the man guarding the door to the bar. The heat of the bodies swirled around her, the smell of alcohol and a mixture of perfumes making a heady scent. Shae allowed Kate to tug her over to the bar. Her friend yelled their drinks order to the barman, while Shae waved toward the other members of their group.
Shae scanned the crowd, trying to recall the last time she’d seen Carter’s so busy. There were so many people in the room that there was barely an inch separating them, and most of the customers were turned toward the stage. A band played, the rock music vibrating along the floor. It had Shae tapping her foot and humming along, even though she’d never heard the song before. She didn’t even know who the band was.
“They’re good, right?” Kate shouted into Shae’s ear.
“Yeah, they’re cool. Is that why this place is so busy?”
Kate tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear before handing Shae her drink. “Yup. They haven’t played in a while, so when Carter’s advertised they’d be ba
ck, I suppose their return made many people happy.”
Shae stared as the lead singer began throwing himself around the stage, impressing her as he continued to sing in tune. His electric-blue hair stuck to the sides of his head. Shae hoped the color had been permanent, otherwise he was going to have an awful lot of blue flesh in an hour or so.
“His name is Nix. He sorta knows my brother.”
Shae rolled her eyes. “Does everyone know your brother?”
Kate shrugged, moving out of the way before someone shoved her over. “He gets around. Everyone knows him.”
“I don’t.”
“And you’re better off keeping it that way. Trust me.”
Shae was about to question further when the band changed the tempo to a much slower one. The guitar melody filled the bar, grabbing the attention of each and every one of the patrons. A calm settled over the crowd, the pace settling them and causing a few to sway. The band had the audience eating out of the palms of their hands. She’d never seen a group do that, at least not one that wasn’t famous. “What are they called?” she asked Kate and took a sip of her whiskey.
“Wasting Light.”
Her hips began to sway to the gentle strum of the guitar, and she continued to sip her drink. She assessed each of the band members, noting how mismatched they seemed. The drummer wouldn’t look out of place in a heavy metal band, the lead singer appeared more like one from a teenage emo band, and the bass guitarist would be more suited to a trendy boy band. However, it was the lead guitarist who held her attention. She knew him. “Trace.”
“Huh?” Kate’s gaze darted from Shae to the stage. “Oh. He’s the guy that came into the studio the other day. You know him? Then how come you didn’t know the band?”
“I d-don’t know him. Not really.” She ignored the way Kate’s brows rose. “I got confused. I thought he was the father of one of the kids I teach. Turns out he’s the uncle.” Kate snorted. “I offended him, and he was so rude to me. When he turned up at the studio he was apologizing.”
Her friend gawked, her mouth dropping open.
“What?”
She looked over to the stage, her head moving so fast her blond hair slapped her cheek. She pointed at Trace. “Men don’t just turn up to say sorry. You know that, right?”
Shae loved her friend’s romantic streak, but sometimes it got a bit too much. She saw an ulterior motive for so many actions. This one was no different. She was wrong, though. Very wrong.
“You’re crazy,” Shae said, nudging her shoulder against Kate’s. “His sister wasn’t happy. That’s what he said.”
“Sure.”
The music faded, and Shae was about to continue to argue her point when the room filled with applause and cheers. She placed her now empty glass on the nearest table and looked backed over to the stage. The band thanked everyone, Nix yelling into the microphone loud enough to make it pop. She winced, her nose wrinkling in distaste. Her irritation increased when a high-pitched squeak pierced the air.
“Damn!” Kate shouted at the same time Shae hissed. Every muscle in her body constricted.
“Sorry. Bit of feedback there, guys,” came on apology from the stage. She didn’t need to see to know it was him. In fact, she didn’t want to see him at all. Embarrassment still heated her blood and had her stomach churning.
“Let’s go somewhere else,” she said, turning to Kate. “It’s way too busy in here.”
Kate wasn’t listening. “Idiot!” she shouted over to Trace.
He looked up, his eyes intense as he scanned the crowd. Kate ducked behind her, laughing at her childishness. She held Shae in front, gripping her waist firmly. No amount of twisting got her free.
“Shae?”
People turned to look at her, and her heart raced in response. Trace jumped down from the stage, pushing his way through the audience until he stood before her. “Hi.” She gave a feeble wave.
“Idiot?”
“It wasn’t me.” She turned to see Kate scuttling away. Damn traitor! “I swear.”
He folded his arms over his chest. “Sure sounded like it came from over here.”
“Well, it wasn’t me,” she repeated, her tone sharp.
“Fine.” A smirk teased his lips, and she hated the way her abdomen tightened.
Shae kept telling herself she didn’t like this man, and yet the small things he did had her body reacting with excitement. It seemed her body did like this man, it was her head that didn’t.
“Good to see you here, Shae.”
Her name rolled far too smoothly from his lips.
“I’m leaving.”
Trace laughed, and she hoped her nipples weren’t peeking through the fabric of her tank because they tightened into little buds at the sound.
“Wow, you really don’t want to be around me, huh? And here I am, loving every second of your company.”
Her eyes bugged out. “Is that sarcasm?”
“What? No. I’m serious. I told you the other day—you amuse me.”
Annoyed with his reaction, Shae snapped. “I’m no fucking clown. I refuse to be the butt of your joke. I’m going.”
Shae stalked over to the door as music began to drift from the speakers. People surged, moving back over to the dance floor. She jostled to the right, almost stumbling. A hand wrapped around her bicep, saving her from face-planting the floor. “Thanks—oh.” Her hero smiled. “I told you I was leaving.” She looked down at where Trace held her arm. “Let go of me.”
Flicking his hair out of his eyes, Trace tugged her into the middle of the dance floor. She struggled. She couldn’t read him. Never once had he acted in a way she’d expected, but she didn’t fear him.
“Here’s the thing,” he said, turning her to face him. “I don’t think you accepted my apology.”
Shae wriggled when he placed his hands on her hips. The people surrounding them were dancing, hips and shoulders nudging against them. Trace started to move, too, his hips rocking from side to side. He winked at her.
“I don’t want to dance with you.” She pushed at his chest, though it was weak at best. He wasn’t going to listen. Besides she wasn’t one hundred percent certain she wanted him to stop. “And why is it so important I accept your silly apology?”
“Now, isn’t that the million dollar question?”
Rearing her head back, she put some space between them and stared at him. Humor glinted in his vibrant blue eyes, and she questioned what she disliked about the man holding her. Was it even dislike?
Trace continued to dance, swaying them with a gentleness that startled her. On reflection, she could see he’d never been cruel to her, just confusing, and a little dismissive.
“I thought you liked dancing. Why don’t you want to dance with me?”
Her brows drew together, her palms still flat against his chest, though she was no longer pushing him away. The temperature rose, her skin flaming. A movement over his shoulder caught her attention. Kate appeared to be having a fit of some sort. Her eyes bulged, her head twitched. It wasn’t until she raised her thumbs that Shae realized Kate was giving her seal of approval.
“What’s so funny?”
“My friend,” she replied, finding herself beginning to sway with him. Damn.
He twisted to glance behind him. “Is she having a seizure?”
“I hope not,” she said, giggling. Shae relaxed a bit, allowing her hands to slip lower until they rested against his abdomen. The muscles were a firm, defined wall underneath her touch, even through his black shirt. Once again, she told herself she didn’t like him.
“So, Shae, are we going to sway?”
“Poet now?”
“I’ve been known to crack out a few lyrics.”
His hands tightened on her hips, his fingers flexing. Their hips brushed against one another’s, the slow caress causing her to catch her breath. Trace watched her, either gauging or waiting on a reaction.
She stared back, battling not to give him one. Instead,
she brought her face closer to his, noticing the way he followed her tongue when she licked her lips. “You know . . .” she started, moving her mouth to the crook of his neck. She inhaled, taking his spicy scent deep into her lungs. Her sex clenched. Double damn.
“What?” His voice came out somewhat strangled.
She felt his Adam’s apple bob as she touched her lips to his neck, and when she spoke again, she made sure her lips continued to make contact with his flesh. “I think . . .” She shoved at his chest, not caring that he stumbled back into a couple kissing. “I think you’re full of shit and so is your come-on. Now I really am leaving.”
Shae blew into her bangs and stared at the door as she stormed out. Trace Jacks got under her skin, and tonight she had cooled those embers of attraction because he was a man she couldn’t afford.
Chapter 7
Why did she let him get to her so much?
The question circled around in her head as Shae pushed her way through the throng of people. The whiskey had escalated her temperature, but her anger toward Trace had shot it through the roof. Every muscle in her body was taut, and she hoped the cool, fresh air would calm her down. Clarity was what she needed, though whenever she was around Trace, her clear thinking disappeared.
Taking a deep gulp of air, Shae stepped out onto the street. The line of people still remained, chatting with one another while they waited for entry. It appeared to be as long as it had been when she’d arrived, and the temptation to yell how awful the band had been grew within her. Beating down the childish urge, she paused her retreat and fished her cell from her purse. Kate would want to know where she’d gone, so Shae sent her a quick message to apologize for leaving. Her excuse was a lie—she felt fine, but the mere thought of typing out his name had her grip tightening around her cell.
When she’d first met him, she’d been taken with the color of his eyes and the sadness that they conveyed. Yet each interaction she’d had with him left her wondering if her head had conjured it all up. Trace Jacks seemed anything but sad. Odd but not sad.
