Chapter Twelve
“Mommy?” Anna said during the ride home from Becca’s late Saturday morning. The Hot Pepper Festival was in full swing, and traffic was insane. “What’s shacking up?”
Rose was so startled by the question she nearly rear-ended the white Taurus in front of them. “What did you just say?”
“When me and Becca were cooking Pop-Tarts, Becca’s mom was talking on the phone in their dining room and me and Becca heard her say you and Mr. Dalton are ‘practically shacking up.’”
“Nothing,” Rose said, gripping the steering wheel till her knuckles shone white. “That means absolutely nothing you need to know about.”
“If it doesn’t mean anything, how come Becca’s mom said it?”
Rose counted to ten in her head, willing the red light they’d been stopped at for what felt like the past year to change.
Last night’s rain was still falling.
She flicked her windshield wipers to high.
She felt sorry for the festival’s vendors—craftspeople, food sellers, game and ride operators and the like—suffering through the rain. Yet it certainly hadn’t seemed to affect the number of folks in town for the three-day event. The city park had to be swamped with both puddles and people.
“Mommy? Why’d she say it?”
Sighing, wishing her child had forgotten the matter, Rose said, “Sometimes, when two grown-ups really like each other, they practice being married. Do you know what slang is?”
Anna shook her head.
Swell.
“Slang is just a different way of wording things. Like instead of saying we’re going to have lunch, some people might say they’re grabbing grub or breaking bread.”
“Oh.”
“When Becca’s mom said Mr. Dalton and I were—you know.” Lord, she couldn’t even bring herself to repeat it. “She just meant—” in a hateful, gossipy way “—we enjoy spending time with each other.”
“Are you?” Anna asked once they’d finally turned off the main road and onto a quieter side street.
“Are we what?”
“Practicing getting married? And if you did get married, would that mean Mr. Dalton would be, like, my second dad?”
Never had Rose been so grateful to pull into the alley behind their loft home.
“I think he’d be a fun dad. He makes really good pancakes. And when he reads me stories, he does funny noises. He snorts the best of anyone I know.”
Turning off the engine, Rose unbuckled her seat belt, then angled to face her daughter. “Sweetie, there’s a lot more to someone being a good dad than that.”
“I know. He has to know how to change fire-alarm batteries, too. We learned that on our field trip to the fire station.”
“Yes, that’s also important, but moms do that job, as well.”
“I know. Can we go inside? Becca loaned me a new ball gown I wanna try on my Ballerina Barbie.”
“Sure,” Rose said, kissing the top of the girl’s head.
With Anna in her room, Rose made a pot of coffee, hoping to ward off the afternoon’s chill. But what she couldn’t escape was the hurt stemming from being the center of ugly gossip. Up until her encounter with Alice, and now this, Rose had only seen the nice side of small-town life. But then in all fairness, the dance troupe she and John had been with was always a hotbed of rumors.
It wasn’t even the fact that her and Dalton’s relationship was being discussed that hurt, but that she doubted in her heart whether there even was a relationship. Really, though they’d made love, there was no commitment on either of their parts.
Never had the saying “so close, but yet so far” been more appropriate.
And if there were a commitment?
If after tonight’s performance, Dalton fished a gorgeous ring from his pocket, then asked her to marry him, what then? Would she do it? Would she be anywhere near ready to open herself to loving again?
What about Anna? Would she also put her daughter’s heart at risk over a man she hardly knew?
“THIS IS SWEET of you,” Rose said to Dalton as he held open the door for her and Anna to the best steak place in town. They were eating early because they all had to be at the pageant by six-thirty.
“Seeing how you’re paying,” he said with a wink, “I figure getting the door is the least I can do.”
“You’re so funny,” she said with a poke to his steely abs.
“Hey, it was worth a try.”
Soon, they were seated in an intimate corner booth Rose suspected was usually reserved for couples, but since Anna was engrossed in coloring her kids’ menu, she and Dalton might as well have been on a date.
After a waitress brought iced tea for Rose and Dalton, and orange pop for Anna, Rose discreetly mentioned what her daughter had overheard Becca’s mom saying.
Shaking his head, Dalton said, “I went to high school with Kari. She was always a vicious gossip, as was her mom. Not that this will make you feel any better, but just so you’ll know, this attitude is targeted more toward me than you. Kari’s best friend, Misty, and I had a fling a few years back. I’m thinking Misty had her heart set on marriage. I was just looking for someone to take to the bank’s Christmas party. When I see her around, she still looks at me like I’m the devil.” Laughing, he sipped his tea. “Women.”
“Hey,” Rose complained. “Not all women have nothing but weddings on their minds.”
“True,” he said with a sweet kiss to her cheek. “And in other not-so-fun news…I spoke to my father today.”
“Oh?” She reached for a sugar packet, dumping it into her tea.
“He and Mom will be there tonight. He said they were hoping to meet you after our performance.”
“Considering the whole town seems to be against us becoming a couple, that’ll be something to look forward to.”
“No one feels like that,” he said.
“Alice does. She’s the one who flat out told me I’m not good enough for you, seeing how I don’t have a pedigreed background.”
“Stop,” he said, taking her hand, smoothing the top with his thumb.
“Eeeuw,” Anna said, glancing up from coloring. “Mr. Dalton, why are you holding Mommy’s hand? Are you two going to kiss?”
“Would you think it was yucky if we did?” Dalton asked.
She took a moment to consider. “Well, if you gave her one of those really long movie kisses, that would be gross. But I suppose just a nice kiss would be all right.”
“Thank you for your permission,” he said.
“Well?”
“Well, what?” he asked. Rose wanted to crawl under the table from embarrassment.
“Aren’t you going to kiss her?”
Dalton wanted to kiss Rose. But seeing how it was a gross movie-type kiss he’d had in mind, he figured he’d better wait until Anna went to bed.
“Know what?” he ended up saying.
The little girl shook her head.
“Instead of kissing your mommy, I think I’ll just kiss you instead.” He scooted the few inches between them and kissed the top of her head.
“Eeuw,” Anna said with a huge smile, pretending to wipe off his germs. “You’re gonna get it.” Now she was the one sliding, and she got revenge by planting a big wet one on his left cheek.
“Eeeeeuuuw,” he said right back, being sure to make a properly repulsed face even though her actions had him secretly touched. “You’re disgusting.”
“No, you are,” she teased.
“I heard you eat bugs,” he said.
Not to be outdone, she retorted, “I heard you eat boogers.”
“That’s enough,” Rose said, apparently declaring herself the grown-up of the bunch. “You two stop right now, or I’m putting you both in time-out.” While her words sounded menacing, her eyes smiled.
“She started it,” Dalton said, pointing at Anna.
“No, you did.” Anna’s face brightened with a grin.
Luckily, the argument was set
tled by the arrival of two T-bones with all the trimmings, and Anna’s corn dog. They settled into their meal while conversation and laughter flowed. The contrast between this trio and Dalton’s own family trio was startling. In the home where he’d spent the first eighteen years of his life, he didn’t feel as at ease as he did right now in a crowded steak house.
“You all right?” Rose asked.
“Never been better,” he said, grinning.
“Then why are you frowning again?” She touched his cheek.
With Anna again engrossed in coloring, Dalton felt free to say, “I was just thinking how right this feels. The three of us.”
“How is that something to frown about?”
“It’s not,” he said, telling her what she wanted to hear.
“IF Y’ALL ARE HALF as nervous as I am about who’s going to win the crown,” Mona said with a titter, wincing under the spotlight’s glare, “then you’ll be happy to know we have more of this fine, Hot Pepper–style entertainment to keep you on the edge of your seats till that crown’s placed on our lucky winner’s head.”
Rose’s talented little girls had already bobbed their fruit bowls for the cheering crowd, so it was now time for Rose and Dalton’s performance.
Standing in the wings alongside her, he leaned in to whisper, “Can you say microphone hog?”
“Stop,” Rose said. “She’s not used to being in front of a crowd.”
“If someone had a rope, we could lasso her and get her away from the crowd.”
“You’re terrible.”
“I try,” he said with a devilish wink.
“Without further ado,” Mona rambled on, “I would like to introduce you to two of Hot Pepper’s brightest dancing stars. It’s a long-standing tradition here at the pageant to showcase our incoming chamber of commerce president in a tango, and this year, as a special treat, Mr. Dalton Montgomery will not only perform with the outgoing queen, but also with Rose Vasquez, a world-renowned professional dancer.” Mona stepped back to wave them onstage.
Though Rose had performed all over the globe, she had never suffered from a worse case of nerves.
Then Dalton smiled and took her hand, giving her fingers a gentle squeeze. He mouthed, “You look beautiful.”
The next four minutes passed in a blur of whispered touches and fervent glances. The passion between them was rekindled. As was the attraction that had first driven her into Dalton’s arms. As the music swelled, so did her heart. He was a wonderful man. He was good for her. Good for Anna. Just because she’d opened her heart to let him in didn’t mean she had to block John out. Her memories of him, of nights like this, sharing the stage together, would always be with her. Only now, she’d make new memories.
There, in Dalton’s arms, Rose felt as if she’d finally come home. Finishing to thunderous applause, hand in hand they took a bow.
At that moment, Rose vanquished all thoughts of what Becca’s mom or Alice might think of their pairing. As all of these cheering people could plainly see, the two of them belonged together.
Would their relationship one day evolve into something more? Maybe even marriage? She couldn’t say. All she really knew was that for the first time in a long time, she felt happy. Complete. And for the moment, that was enough.
Surrendering her man to the outgoing queen, Rose wistfully smiled at the sight of him expertly maneuvering the girl across the stage. He might temporarily have another woman in his arms, but she was the woman he’d go home with.
“OUR NEW MISS HOT PEPPER is…” Mona’s hands shook while reading the news from the judging form. “Miss Shreveport, Chelsea Prioux! Congratulations, Chelsea!”
The town’s orchestra launched into their version of the Miss America theme song.
“Here she is…” Alice sang in a falsetto, “Miss Hot Pepppp-errrr…”
Amidst cheers and confetti and balloons, Dalton took Rose’s hand, tugging her close. Into her ear, he whispered, “That should be you up there. Clearly, you’re most deserving of the crown.”
“Clearly, you’re delusional. Did you see how the girl looked in her swimsuit?”
“You forget, I’ve seen how you look in your birthday suit, and it’s a pretty amazing sight. Definitely worthy of a crown.”
“You need crowning,” she teased.
“On a serious note,” he said, putting his arm around her waist and leading her to a backstage area where there weren’t so many crying or giggling girls, “I thought our dances rocked. Thank you. My father and fellow pageant-committee members will be proud.”
“You’re the one who should be proud, Dalton. When I think of how far you’ve come in such a short time…” Her eyes welled. “I believe you’re one of my best students.”
“Students?” he teased, while a prop guy whistled by, giant hot pepper in his arms. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable being referred to as a student.”
“Truthfully…” she said, inching him into a forgotten corner, then kissing him with hungry abandon, “I suppose we have moved our relationship in a more intimate direction.”
“Then maybe we should get a babysitter for Anna tonight. Unless…” Hand beneath her chin, he tipped her face back, peering into her soft brown eyes. “Where does John fit into all of this?”
Swallowing hard, she shook her head. “Onstage, something in me changed. No one will ever be as strong a tango partner as John. Dancing was his life. But you, Dalton Montgomery, have skills all your own that flow so nicely with mine. Dancing with you tonight, I felt like we were a couple. With your help, I’ve finally realized that love is a precious gift—not to be feared, but cherished. I can’t let fears of what might be ruin the magic of what already is. I love you.”
Holding her for all he was worth, Dalton breathed in her musky exotic scent, and reveled in the feel of her molded against him.
“Let’s go home,” she said, the words warm against his throat.
“Do I get to stay the night?”
“Duh.” Her grin dazzled. “It’s pretty much become your home, too.” Rose pulled out her cell phone and made arrangements to drop Anna off at the sitter’s.
Arm in arm, Anna giggling ten paces behind with her friends, they left the stage and wound through the crowd. It felt good to be a unit, the three of them against the storm. Not that the crowd was particularly unruly, but losing queen candidates and their families weren’t exactly the most chipper of folks.
They’d just made it to the auditorium doors when Dalton groaned.
“What’s wrong?” Rose asked.
“Trouble to our right. Want to run, hide or face it head-on?”
She swatted his forearm, then, with a warm smile, greeted his parents and the trio they had with them. “Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery. I’m Rose—Dalton’s dancing instructor. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”
“Likewise, dear,” Dalton’s mom said, warmly grasping Rose’s hand. “Dalton speaks of you often.”
“In glowing terms, I hope.”
“Absolutely,” said Miranda. She held out her hand, introducing herself and her parents, as well. “The performances were wonderful. You two should be proud.”
“I know I am,” Rose said. “Dalton?”
Chuckling, he tightened his hold on Rose. “I’m just glad it’s over.”
“Miranda is quite an accomplished ballerina,” his mother said.
“Mmm…My husband and I used to hold season tickets to the Texas Ballet Theater,” said Rose.
“You were lucky,” Miranda’s mother said. The woman, like her daughter, was tall, pale and thin. She was undeniably beautiful and unfailingly polite. Mrs. Browning had spent a lifetime becoming the perfect corporate wife. She’d groomed her daughter for the same. She should be the perfect woman for him.
Only one problem—Rose was the woman his pulse raced for.
“We’re headed for a late dinner,” Dalton’s father said. “Son, how about joining us.” It wasn’t so much a question as a command.
“Thanks,
but Rose and I already have plans.”
“She’s welcome, too. Rose—that is,” Miranda’s mother interjected. “I’ll call the club and ask Bernard to add one to our reservation.”
“Thank you,” Rose said.
“Yes, thank you,” Dalton added, “but really, we have plans.”
“Son…” His father’s stony glare said what his words didn’t: Do it, or else. Only, Dalton was no longer a heartbroken kid straight out of a disastrous marriage. He wasn’t hungry for a job or desperate to find his place in the world. At the moment, the only world for him was Rose’s. “Your mother and I would very much like for you to join us.”
“I appreciate that, Dad. But what I’d very much like is to spend the evening with Rose—alone.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Man, that was exhilarating.”
Rose glanced across the front seat of Dalton’s SUV. After they’d dropped Anna off Dalton had really started to loosen up. He tapped his fingers in time to an Aero-smith classic, and in the glare of lights from oncoming cars, appeared breathtakingly handsome and strong. “What was exhilarating?”
After stopping for a light, he clasped her hand, bringing it to his lips for a kiss. “Telling my parents, no.”
“Not something you do often, I take it?”
“Not nearly enough.”
“Miranda’s lovely.”
“She’s not half as pretty as you.” Releasing her hand, he accelerated through the light, down Cincinnati with its historic, redbrick storefronts and white lights in the trees.
“Think you can charm your way out of it, huh?” She rubbed his shoulder.
“Out of what?”
“It’s kind of obvious your parents and Miranda’s would like nothing better than for the two of you to be together.”
“And…” He turned left, then sharply veered right, narrowly avoiding a pair of revelers who looked a bit tipsy from the festival’s beer garden and square dance.
Dancing With Dalton (Fatherhood) Page 12