by JoAnn Durgin
At 4:15, with his new, insanely expensive touring bike strapped to the back of the SUV, Sawyer drove the short distance back to the dance studio. Pulling into the parking lot, he ran over the curb after he spied a sign in front of one of the employee parking spaces: Reserved for Miss Ava.
Cutting the engine, he crossed his arms on the steering wheel and stared at the sign. What do you know. Ava? Ballerina Ava? His Ava? Okay, so she wasn’t his in any sense of the word, but how many women could there be in the world named Ava, especially in Indianapolis? More specifically, how many women named Ava close to his age? His gut told him not that many. Parked in front of the sign was an older, red VW Beetle. A classic model. A wide grin creased his lips. The car seemed to suit what little he knew of Ava.
Snowflakes swirled around him as Sawyer exited the SUV. After locking the vehicle and hearing the beep from his key fob, he shivered. He should have pulled out his heavier down jacket from the closet. The temperature must have plunged a good fifteen to twenty degrees since he’d first dropped off the girls.
Hurrying into the studio, he frowned. He’d need to cancel the guys scheduled for duty tonight across the city. No one but an Eskimo would be renting a pedicab tonight. Or in the foreseeable future if these below-freezing temperatures continued. At least his budget allowed for a certain number of snow days per year, so he was covered financially.
Perhaps he should follow the advice of his accountant and move his business to a much warmer climate—Florida or southern California—where he could operate year-round without the threat of winter snow. Or on a boardwalk somewhere. Pedicabs were very popular in beach towns. He liked the seasons, though, in spite of his complaints about the cold weather. Indy was home and his family was here, so he wasn’t moving unless the Lord made it perfectly clear that He wanted him elsewhere. The benefits of staying far outweighed the disadvantages.
Stepping inside the dance studio, Sawyer warmed up in record time when he spied Ava. He couldn’t stop his smile. The Miss Ava marked on the parking space was her. Thank you, Lord.
Taller than he remembered, Ava stood in the outer lobby talking with an adoring group of young girls, Sophia and Katie among them. She’d been lovely the other night in spite of her exhaustion but now she appeared well-rested. Beautiful. She wore a black leotard with a scoop neck and a short, see-through ballet skirt. Those ballet outfits didn’t leave much to the imagination while still managing to be completely modest. Maybe it was because Ava was the one wearing it and was the type of woman to lend any outfit elegance. Sawyer averted his gaze so he didn’t linger on her long legs and pretty curves. He appreciated that Ava wasn’t overly skinny like most ballerinas. Not that he’d seen many ballerinas up close and personal.
Taking a chair along one wall, Sawyer was content to observe and listen, trying not to be obvious about his fascination with Sophia’s ballet teacher. Her dark hair had been pulled back when he’d first met her. He’d wondered then how long it was, how far the shiny waves cascaded down her back. Today she wore it in a high ponytail with wispy bangs hanging low on her forehead. The bangs were a surprise—she must have combed them to the side the other night. Animated in conversation with the girls, Ava’s ponytail swung back and forth and reached midway down her back.
Sawyer forced himself to tear his gaze away from the dance instructor and instead focused on his adorable niece. Sophia bounced up and down with excitement. No wonder moms signed kids up for dance lessons. Moms were smart. They might talk about how dancing promotes good posture and develops self-discipline, but it was also an effective way to get youngsters to expend all that excess energy and help them to sleep well. He didn’t see any little boys but knew they took dancing lessons, too.
As soon as the girls spotted him, Sophia, still dressed in her pink leotard and tights, brightened and scooted over to him. “You came back!”
“Of course. Your mom’s running a little late in her meeting. How was the lesson?”
“Miss Ava showed us our costumes for the recital this summer. They’re purple, Uncle Sawyer! I’m going to be a butterfly.”
“You’ll be the most beautiful purple butterfly ever, kiddo. Why don’t you go change back into your uniform and then I’ll take you and Katie to Carson’s for some hot chocolate?”
“With extra whipped cream and lots of chocolate sprinkles on top?”
“Wouldn’t be the same without it.”
Sophia’s smile grew wider. When she gave him that smile, he’d buy this little girl just about anything he could afford. He’d already learned to set limits there, too, or else he’d be drained of resources before Sophia reached her teens.
“Mom doesn’t always make me change until I get home.” His niece crossed her arms and gave him a pout. Sophia should know better than to try and pull that one over on him.
“The temperature’s dropping fast and it’s starting to snow. You’ll be a lot warmer in your other clothes. Now scoot.” Allie might get irritated if the hot chocolate spoiled her daughter’s dinner, but somehow he didn’t think she’d mind.
“Okay.” Sophia motioned to Katie and both girls quickly departed. At least that was easy.
Although others milled about in the lobby, they faded into the background. When Ava finished her conversation and glanced in his direction, meeting his gaze, Sawyer gave her his best attempt at a charming smile. She knew he was a single man, so hopefully she wouldn’t wonder if he was some guy who hung out at places frequented by little girls.
Wow. Maybe the cold had frozen his limited brain cells. Yanking the red knit cap off his head, he stuffed it into his coat pocket. Yeah, like messy hair would send her running to him like a magnet.
Ava walked toward him with the grace and elegance befitting a dancer. “Hi Sawyer. I realize how cliché this sounds, but what a small world.”
“Getting smaller all the time, apparently. You’ll get no complaints from me.” He grinned and gave her a wink, figuring he could blame it on a twitch if challenged. “Nice to see you again, Ballerina.”
A pretty pink blush colored Ava’s cheeks and her smile reached her almond shaped brown eyes. “You too. I take it you’re related to either Sophia or Katie?”
“Sophia’s my niece.”
“I see,” she said with a nod. “Mrs. Randall called earlier to say her brother was dropping off the girls for their lesson today. I knew there couldn’t be that many men named Sawyer with a niece at my studio.”
So maybe she’d expected him? That shot a thrill of adrenaline straight through him and he suppressed the urge to jump up and down like Sophia.
Ava glanced over her shoulder to the row of chairs where Sophia and Katie seemed to be engaged in a lively debate about the proper way to tie their shoelaces. He’d offer to help but they looked like they were doing fine on their own. So, he stayed planted right where he was.
“Your niece and Katie are two of my newest students.”
“So, do you know Allie?”
“Not really. Only briefly in passing when she’s picked up Sophia after her lesson. I just hadn’t met her brother until the other night to know her given name is Alcott.”
Sawyer leaned closer to Ava, close enough to see the faint sheen of perspiration. Weird how he found the woman’s sweat attractive. Yeah, maybe it’d been too long since he’d jumped into the old dating waters. Concentrate, Sawyer.
“Let’s keep that little tidbit our secret, please. Not that Allie hates her name, but my sister wouldn’t appreciate knowing it was a topic of conversation with my clients. Or with her daughter’s dance instructor. For your ears only, my nickname for her is Goose.”
“Ah, I see. Rest assured, both secrets are safe with me.”
“Thanks. Am I right in assuming your last name is Carlisle? I saw the parking spot reserved for Miss Ava.”
“Yes, that would be me.” She shook her head, and her ponytail swung behind her again. “Sometimes I wonder if I was named after it or if it’s the other way around.”
&n
bsp; “Meaning?”
“Meaning I’ve been dancing for so long that I’m not sure which came first. Kind of similar to the ancient chicken or egg debate. I’ve only operated the dancing school for a couple of years, though.” She shook her head with a perplexed expression. “That made no sense. What you must think of me.”
“You’re fine. I like your random thoughts. We think alike in that way, and what’s to debate? Easy. The chicken came first since God created the animals first.”
Ava appeared to consider his words, her charming smile back in place. “I like your reasoning. Makes perfect sense to me. They must have loved you on the debate team.”
“I saved them some time, anyway.” In the light of day—actually fluorescent lighting that wasn’t normally flattering—she was exquisite. He’d never thought of that word in his life, but the description applied to Ava. Under the lights, he glimpsed a few strands of red highlights mixed in with her dark hair.
Bite the bullet and ask for the pleasure of her company on a date.
“Miss Carlisle, would you, um, ever consider going out with me?” When she didn’t jump at the opportunity, Sawyer wondered if he should grab the girls and beat a hasty retreat. “I figured since neither one of us date, we might as well do it…together.”
Sawyer forced his feet to stay planted on the floor and not rock from foot to foot. The years faded away and he was sixteen all over again. Rarely had a woman knocked him almost senseless. Never had a woman attracted him this hard, this fast.
“Depends.” When Ava hesitated, his pulse sputtered. “Would you bring Goose along?”
Sawyer recovered his equilibrium with lightning speed. Slowly, he released a breath. “I was actually thinking of bringing Harvey this time.”
“And Harvey is. . .?”
“My SUV. He’s friendly and generally cooperative. Why, is my transportation status of concern to you?” The corners of his mouth twitched as though of their own accord.
“No.” She laughed under her breath. “Just trying to think of my answer and stalling for time.”
“Say yes and save us both some time and awkwardness.”
“You can be pushy, but you’re also pretty cute.”
Cute? Sure. He could settle for cute for now, anyway. Then he’d work on an upgrade. “We could go for pizza and keep it casual or I’d be happy to take you somewhere fancy. Whatever you’d like. You name it.” What was he thinking? A woman like Ava was probably used to being wined and dined at the best restaurants Indianapolis had to offer. You take a woman to a nice place when you want to make a good impression. Pizza joints should be reserved for dates when you were more familiar with each other. His lack of dating experience in the past two years must be painfully apparent.
“You already know where I live. I suppose that’s convenient.” Ava tapped a finger on her chin as if debating her options, but the teasing light in her eyes suggested otherwise. “Plus you have very kind eyes.”
Sawyer’s pulse surged at the compliment. “Thanks. I assure you, it wasn’t a mistake allowing me to take you home the other night. In spite of my often messy hair, and the fact that I might look a little weary sometimes”—he raised his right hand—“I, Sawyer Michael Mancini, hereby swear and affirm that I am not weird, a stalker, or a pervert of any kind. Nor have I ever been any of those things.”
“Don’t forget God-honoring, sane, and heterosexual.” He loved how her cheeks bloomed with color again. When he laughed, Ava laughed with him.
“Yes to all those things.” Stepping closer to her, he lowered his voice. “Further, I promise you, Ava Carlisle, that I will always treat you with the utmost care and respect.”
She quirked a brow. “Always?”
“For as long as we both shall…date and not really date.”
Ava’s enchanting smile gave him more encouragement than she could know. “I have the sneaking suspicion you were once a Boy Scout. You’ve proven yourself to be a fine gentleman. Is that Mancini as in the ‘Moon River’ Mancini family?”
“No, the Mancini family from Rome. One of a thousand or more families with that same last name in the greater Vatican City limits. I’m impressed that you’ve heard of Henry Mancini.”
“I love the classics, and I’m a huge Audrey Hepburn fan. I adored ‘Moon River’ in Breakfast at Tiffany’s. It’s one of the best movie songs of all time.” Ava moved one hand to her slim hip. “I guess that means you pass the test.”
“Test?” He waggled his eyebrows, aware Sophia and Katie stood behind Ava, giggling together. No matter how Ava answered, he’d be teased about asking their teacher for a date all the way to Carson’s Confectionary and then to Allie’s house. No matter. He didn’t mind and it’d be worth it all…if Ava said yes. Unless he was looking for something that wasn’t there between them, Ava felt the same strong connection that he did. From where he was standing, the sparks were palpable.
“The I only go out with guys with Italian last names who are sweet enough to bring their nieces to dance class test. Besides, a man who loves red can’t be all bad.”
“Okay, how can you possibly know that?” Her ability to read him was almost intimidating, but in the best of ways. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his key fob and clicked the button to heat up the SUV. One of the best inventions known to mankind.
Ava’s smile could have knocked him down. “Let me see. Your bicycle, your bike helmet, the knit cap sticking out of your coat pocket, and the thermal shirt peeking out from beneath your jacket? All red.”
Allie’s remark about him needing an observant woman came to mind. “Miss Carlisle, your powers of observation amaze me. You seem to know me without really. . .knowing me.” He paused for emphasis. “Yet.” A thrill ran through him when Ava’s eyes widened.
“Come to think of it, I noticed your VW parked outside,” he said. “Unless I’m color blind, it’s also red.”
“Yes, it’s my favorite color. And I like older things.” Was Ava teasing him?
“I’m thirty, thank you very much.”
“You’re not old, Sawyer, but if you’re asking, I’m twenty-seven. I meant that I like vintage cars, clothes, furniture, antiques. Things like that.” Ava turned to Sophia and Katie. “What do you think, girls? Should I go out on a date with this man?”
Katie nodded with enthusiasm. “Mr. Mancini’s hairy, but he’s funny.” A little less enthusiasm would have been better, but he’d take whatever endorsement he could get.
“Hey, I’m Italian.” He smoothed one hand over his unruly curls. “Italians are hairy. It’s genetic, people.”
“Uncle Sawyer, you might want to shave if you plan on kissing Miss Ava.” Sophia gave him a grin that looked close to smug. Since when did seven-year-old girls learn how to be coy? No doubt she’d picked up that attitude from her mother.
Sawyer shoved one curled fist over his mouth and coughed. Kids. Embarrassing or not, they were honest to a fault. Sophia had a point even if she needed a filter. Kissing on a first date wasn’t his modus operandi, but now the idea had been permanently implanted in his brain. When it came to Miss Carlisle, the idea had definite merit.
“Okay, girls. Time to go. Say good-bye and we’ll be on our way.” He avoided looking at Ava.
“Uncle Sawyer’s taking us to Carson’s for hot chocolate,” Sophia announced as he helped her into her coat. “Do you want to come, too, Miss Ava?”
With her cheeks still flushed, Ava focused on Sophia. “I’d love to come, but I have one more class to teach this afternoon.” Her gaze moved to Sawyer’s. “Thank you for the invitation.”
“Another time.” Stepping closer, Sawyer lowered his voice. “May I have your phone number or should I call you here?”
“Let me give you my card.” After walking to the desk, Ava returned in seconds and handed him two business cards. “All my contact information is here. I’m giving you an extra card in case you misplace one.”
“How did you know. . .?” His words trailed. This woman alre
ady had him pegged. Reaching inside his coat, he retrieved one of his cards. “Here’s mine. Only one, unless you want more, but I have the feeling one is all you’ll need. Good to see you again. I’ll call you, Ballerina.”
“I’ll look forward to it, Pedicab Man.” Taking the card, Ava gave him a parting smile before turning and heading into the studio.
If that wasn’t flirting, he’d been out of touch with the dating scene too long. Sure seemed like it to him. After helping Sophia and Katie into their coats, he shook his head when his niece jumped up and down in front of him and waved her arms.
“Earth to Uncle Sawyer. Your face looks all goofy and stuff. You okay?”
“Sure am. And stuff.” He pulled his cap down over his head. “Let’s go.” Putting one guiding hand on each girl’s shoulder, he led them out of the studio. As he hurried them to the warm SUV in the parking lot, Sawyer didn’t feel the chill in spite of the bitter wind howling all around him.
Chapter 6
~~♥~~
Sawyer stood beside Eric, one of his employees, outside the entrance of the downtown Hilton. Mirror images of one another, they leaned against the passenger compartments of their respective pedicabs, arms crossed. They’d performed the necessary maintenance on the bikes for the night, so it was downtime until any potential customers emerged from the hotel. The temperature had reached the low fifties, so hopefully the milder evening would attract some decent business. With all the conventions in town, the Hilton was consistently near capacity. Out of his ten locations around the city, this one and the Hyatt were among the most lucrative.
“Eric, answer something for me. Why aren’t you married?”
The other man stared at him for a few seconds. “Straight up? I haven’t met a woman I felt was worth giving up my freedom.”
Sawyer tried not to cringe at Eric’s phrasing. “What would it take for you to feel a woman is worth it?”
Eric uncrossed his arms and raked one hand through his red hair. “I don’t know, man. I like to think I’ll recognize her when I meet her, you know? Or after a few dates. We need to have that spark or whatever between us. More than physical attraction. Kind of like kismet, magic”—he smirked—“or excuse me, God’s plan, as you’d probably say. You’ve either got it with someone, or you don’t. I thought I found it a couple of times, but it wasn’t meant to be. What about Darcy? How did you know she was the one?”
