Relieved to hear the girls clatter out of the room two doors down, Maggie gave Seb a quick smile and sped after them. Away from his lazy grin, his too blue eyes, and his chilled yet very powerful appeal.
Chapter Nine
He was dithering, and he never dithered. Seb usually made his mind up fast and got on with it. And he had made up his mind, hadn’t he?
Frustrated with himself, he jammed on his boots – God, he missed flip-flops – shrugged on his parka and marched out of the house to the bus stop. The irony of riding to a fair maiden’s rescue on a bus wasn’t lost on him. Then again, successful, independent mum of two Maggie Peterson hardly needed rescuing.
So why was he heading out in the damp November cold, when he could be sat on Sarah’s sofa watching soccer… no, football. He was English, even if some of his heart belonged in the Ozzie surf.
As he considered changing his mind again, the bus pulled up, and wasn’t that a shocker. The one time he could have done with it running ten minutes late as usual. If he didn’t get on the bloody thing now, he’d not only be a ditherer, he’d be a coward.
Half an hour and a change of buses later, his pulse, usually a steady fifty-five beats a minute, sped up as he pushed open the door to the community hall.
It wasn’t hard to tell where the ballroom dancing lessons were being held. He could hear the low hum of chatter, and music that sounded like it came from a scratchy gramophone. Christ. If that was what they danced to, he’d not make it through the first ten minutes.
Make that five minutes, he thought as he pushed open the door and a dozen pair of eyes swivelled in his direction.
There was only one pair he was interested in though. Cool grey, they widened with shock as the owner realised who the late arrival was.
‘Seb?’
He halted, stuffing his hands in his parka. ‘Hi.’ This wasn’t quite as he’d planned it. Then again, he’d not factored in the change of buses, making him five minutes late.
‘Now, now, don’t be shy, come on in.’ A twig-thin woman who looked to be in her sixties beckoned towards him. ‘I’m Belinda, and I teach ballroom dancing here. I hope you’re planning on joining us, because we’re short on men.’ Her eyes deliberately looked him up and down. ‘Especially tall, handsome young men.’
‘No.’ Maggie’s voice echoed sharply around the hall. ‘He’s not come for the lessons.’
Okay, so the awkward factor had just increased tenfold. ‘Actually, I have.’ And how ripper, how frigging awesome, that they had an audience for this conversation.
Belinda glanced at them both before clapping her hands, clearly deciding fresh blood was more important than pissing off one of her current students. ‘Excellent. We can sort out the paperwork side of things later. For now, find yourself a partner. You’ve only missed two lessons, so I’m sure a smart young thing like you will find it easy to catch up.’
Young thing… He guessed, compared to Belinda and to everyone else in the room, he was, but twenty-seven didn’t feel young.
Then again, the way Maggie was glaring at him as he strode towards her, did make part of him feel like a school kid again. Only a small part. A far bigger part of him – pun intended – felt all man as she coolly appraised him.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘I thought that was obvious.’ Squeezing into the space next to her, he ran his eyes over the other men in the room. They were overweight, over fifty, two of them bald, and all of them considerably shorter than he was. ‘I’m saving you from dancing with a partner whose head only reaches your—’
‘I don’t need rescuing,’ she hissed as the class began to partner up.
‘I know.’ He blew out a frustrated breath. ‘Look, I’d planned to turn up before the lesson and talk to you about it, but the buses didn’t do me any favours.’
Her eyes widened. ‘You came by bus?’
‘Well, yeah. I don’t have a car.’ And okay, that had sounded a bit too defensive.
‘You don’t?’ Her forehead wrinkled. ‘Damn, now I think about it, I remember Sarah mentioning that a while back. So whose car did you use to pick the girls up on Monday?’
He didn’t want to be having this conversation. ‘Does it matter?’ He nodded towards the now coupled up dancers who were taking an active interest in them. ‘Shouldn’t we be listening to Belinda?’
‘No, because you’re not… we’re not.’ She exhaled sharply. ‘Why are you really here?’
Shit, he’d not planned for that question, either. ‘I wanted to see what all the fuss was about, you know, with the ballroom dancing.’ Her eyes narrowed and as she scrutinised his face he felt his cheeks heat in a way he hadn’t experienced since primary school. ‘Okay, okay, when we talked last Saturday you sounded unsure about carrying on and I didn’t want you to give up. I thought maybe dancing with me would be better than a mop. And I promise to keep my head a long way from your boobs.’
Laughter spluttered out of her, and for the first time that evening, he felt a dart of hope. Maybe he’d not totally cocked this up. But then she sighed and shook her head. ‘We’ll talk about this later. For now, I guess we’d better pay attention or they’ll throw us out.’
He smirked. ‘You really think a bunch of oldies can throw me anywhere?’
‘Belinda’s a lot scarier than she looks.’
‘Has everyone found a partner?’ Belinda’s voice cut through the general noise, making Seb jump, and earning him a see, I told you look from Maggie. ‘I notice some of us have been luckier than others,’ she added, with a pointed glance in their direction.
‘Oh God,’ Maggie muttered. ‘Now I’ve bagged the one tall male, nobody’s going to talk to me.’
‘Err, please tell me I’ve got more going for me than my height.’ Seb gave Maggie a pained look. ‘I’ve also got a full head of hair. And my own teeth.’
‘Neither of which is useful for dancing.’
‘Ah, but they are useful for what might happen after the dancing.’
Her expression turned panicked. ‘Nothing’s going to happen after it.’
‘I know, I just meant in general—’
Belinda interrupted them again. ‘Okay, class, I want you all to begin with the box step we covered last week. Tonight, we’re going to learn how to take that basic step and travel round the room.’ She walked – actually, it was more of a glide – towards them. ‘It’s Seb, isn’t it?’ Before he had a chance to reply, she took hold of his hands. ‘You need to hold your partner like this.’
Seb had fantasised more than once recently about having his hands on Maggie, but not like this. Not with her feeling so stiff and unyielding. Like a stranger, instead of a woman he’d spent a good part of Saturday night with. A woman he’d nearly kissed.
Belinda nodded. ‘That’s right, though you both need to work on your body language. You look like a couple of statues rather than a couple about to perform a romantic dance together.’
After watching her walk/glide away, Seb turned to his partner. ‘Look, if we’re going to get the most out of this lesson, you can’t be pissed with me.’
‘I’m not.’
‘Yes, you are. You’re annoyed I came here, and you’re annoyed I might be scheming for us to go somewhere afterwards.’ He bent so he could look her in the eyes. ‘FYI, I’m not.’ At least he wasn’t tonight. If he made it to another lesson, all bets were off.
She exhaled, her shoulders losing some of their rigidness. ‘Okay, yes, I am annoyed, but only because I don’t like being surprised.’
‘So if I’d messaged to tell you I was coming, you’d have messaged back to say whoopee?’
He was rewarded with a wry smile. ‘Perhaps not.’
‘I want to see you all rising and falling as you dance.’
Belinda’s words floated over to them and Seb looked guiltily at Maggie. ‘Sorry, we should be dancing.’ He shook his head, laughing at himself. ‘But shit, Mags. Rising, falling, boxes… I’ve no idea what she’s banging on a
bout.’
Maggie opened her mouth, as if to reply, but then her lips curved upwards, and she began to laugh. Not a genteel one, either. This was a real bend over at the waist belly ache of a laugh. He wasn’t sure if she was laughing at him, or the situation, or something else he had no clue about, but right now he didn’t care.
She was bloody gorgeous when she laughed.
Maggie knew Seb was staring at her as if she was bonkers. Knew too, the class were watching her. She didn’t even know why she was laughing. Only that if felt good, and she hadn’t laughed like this for a long time.
‘Sorry.’ She tried to pull herself together. ‘That sort of burst out of me. I think it was the look of panic on your face.’ Drawing in a breath, she held her hand out for him to take, and tried to ignore the shiver of awareness that ran through her when his hand found the small of her back. ‘This is what she means.’
Maggie showed Seb what Belinda was asking them to do, and realised right away that he had a natural rhythm. Relaxed and loose-limbed, it didn’t take him long to catch on with what Belinda was telling them.
And wow, being held by him, that long, lean body sliding against hers. She felt it right in the long-forgotten place between her legs.
‘You can get closer, Maggie,’ Belinda instructed.
‘I know I would.’ Shirley, who Maggie had come to realise was the most vocal of the dance group, bellowed across the room, much to the amusement of everyone. Including Seb, whose body vibrated with laughter.
‘We should do as we’re told.’ His hand pressed her back, drawing her more firmly against him, and her heart began to race, the heat from his body creating a sizzle across her skin. ‘Is this okay?’
‘Yes.’ It came out as a croak and she had to clear her throat and try it again. ‘It’s fine.’
Another rumble of laughter in his chest. ‘Trust me, this feels a lot more than fine.’
A rush of heat pooled in her core and her nipples hardened inside her bra. Please God he couldn’t see it, couldn’t feel it. Because she swore she could feel every inch of him.
Somehow she made it to the end of the lesson. While she waited for Seb to settle up payment with Belinda, Maggie hoped the women flashing her envious looks were putting her flushed cheeks and her too fast heart beat down to her poor level of fitness. Not an over-reaction to her admittedly very dishy dance partner.
‘How did you bag him, love?’ Shirley asked. In her late sixties or early seventies, she clearly wasn’t going to let a little thing like age stop her from ogling.
‘I haven’t bagged anyone.’ Maggie willed her cheeks to cool. ‘He’s the brother of my best friends.’
‘Any more where he came from?’ Shirley’s friend, Pauline, gave Seb an admiring once-over.
‘No, but if he comes next week, we can share him.’
That made them cackle so loud, Seb glanced over at them.
‘What was the dirty laughter about?’ he asked as he walked over a few minutes later, shrugging on his parka.
‘Shirley and Pauline were telling me how much they’re looking forward to dancing with you next week.’
‘What?’ She could have sworn he paled beneath his tan. ‘That’s not part of the deal.’
‘I don’t remember us having a deal?’
‘Sure you do. I’m here to stop the boob-high guys getting anywhere near your, err—’
‘Thanks, I’ve got it.’ She cast a quick look in his direction, her lips twitching. ‘And okay, I have to admit, you were very effective at that.’
‘So, same time again next week? And you’d better say yes, because Belinda knows where I live now.’ He mock-shuddered. ‘I dread to think what she’ll do to me if I don’t turn up.’
Maggie spluttered out a laugh. ‘Teacher’s pet already. Unbelievable.’
‘Trust me, that really is unbelievable. You only have to ask my parents.’
A little bit of the laughter left his face, and Maggie sensed there was a story there. One that would probably help explain why, even though he clearly loved his family, he’d found himself living at the other side of the world.
They halted by her car, and Seb thrust his hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched up against the biting cold. ‘Well, thanks for the dance, Dr Peterson.’
‘Do you want a lift back?’
He glanced towards the bus stop, and then back at her. ‘The bus will be here soon.’
‘Says the man who’s clearly forgotten the unreliability of the English public transport system.’
He laughed softly. ‘Okay, I was trying to be a gentleman, but sod it. I’m freezing my knackers off here. I gratefully accept your offer.’
He surprised her by grabbing the driver’s door and opening it. She was about to tell him he’d got the wrong side, when he bowed and indicated for her climb in. Then ran round the bonnet and jumped into the passenger seat. ‘Please tell me this car has heated seats?’
After turning the engine on, she clicked the button. ‘You’ll have to toughen up if you’re going to hang around. It’s only going to get colder.’
‘I know.’ He let out a deep sigh, his shoulders slumping, and she wondered what he was thinking.
‘When are you planning on going back?’
‘Good question. Now all I need is an answer.’
As she manoeuvred the car out of the car park, she snatched a glimpse at his face. He was staring straight ahead, and her heart did a little flip as she took in his profile. The square jaw, the straight nose, the blonde hair she’d first thought was messy, and now thought sexy.
Dragging her eyes away, she focused her attention forward. ‘What does it depend on?’
‘Dad, mainly. I want to see him up and about. Back to annoying Mum for the right reasons, like leaving the loo seat up and his towel on the floor, rather than being a moody git.’
‘He might be depressed. Having a heart attack is a really traumatic experience.’
‘Yeah. We’ve been warned about that.’ He turned to look at her. ‘You think I’m being too hard on him?’
‘I think it must be tough for you to see your dad appearing vulnerable,’ she answered carefully. ‘Just as I think it must be tough for him to have his son see him like that.’
Seb blew out a breath. ‘You’re right. On both counts.’ There was a beat of silence. ‘He’s not the only reason I might stay around for a bit though.’
‘Oh?’ She drew up at the red light, and as the car stopped, she glanced in his direction.
He smiled directly into her eyes. ‘There’s more to interest me here than I thought.’
‘Oh?’ Damn, she was sounding like a broken record. And why had her heart sped up? ‘You mean the youth centre?’
‘Yeah, I’m enjoying working there, especially now I’m officially part of the set-up. But there are other attractions, too.’ His laughter was soft and low, and it made her stomach dip. ‘I mean, it’ll be hard to catch Strictly on a pontoon over the reef.’
He’s teasing you. Yet his eyes held hers, and beneath the amusement there was a glitter of something more. Something hotter, darker. Something that made her blood feel twice as thick, and her pulse race twice as fast.
It was a relief when the lights changed to green, and she was able to focus on driving again.
At last she pulled up outside Sarah’s house.
‘Well, thanks for saving me from the bus nightmare. I guess I won’t see you now until Saturday.’
She turned to look at him. ‘You’re joining us again?’
‘Of course. It’s Blackpool, darling,’ he drawled in a very good impression of Craig Revel Horwood.
‘Right, yes.’ God, where had this jittery feeling come from?
‘That’s unless you need any more emergency childcare.’
‘Hannah’s back to full strength, thank you.’ And that reminded her. ‘You never did say whose car you picked them up in.’
Those eyes that could be so direct suddenly found something more interesting to l
ook at outside. ‘I hired one.’
Guilt wormed through her. She’d been in a blind panic that morning. She’d not considered the logistics, not thought beyond her own need. ‘I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have had to do that. I put you in a terrible position.’ She hesitated. ‘I don’t suppose I can offer to—’
‘Pay? No.’ He huffed out a breath. ‘And don’t apologise. I wanted to do the favour.’ Finally, he eyes met hers. ‘In case you haven’t realised, I like you, Maggie Peterson.’
All the saliva in her mouth drained away as her heart banged against her ribs. Maggie had to swallow, twice, before she could speak. And then she didn’t know what to say. ‘I… thank you. I like you, too. I mean, you’re Alice and Sarah’s brother, so that’s not a surprise.’
He smiled, but it was a wry, crooked effort. ‘I guess not.’
In a flash, he opened the door and jumped out. As she watched him stroll up to the front door, her mind fretted. Had he meant he liked her, or he liked her?
Oh, for God’s sake. She was being ridiculous. The guy was nearly eleven years her junior. He’d helped her out with the childcare, and turned up to the dance class, because she was a friend of his sisters.
He liked her. Full stop. No emphasis.
Chapter Ten
The kids, around a dozen thirteen to fifteen-year-olds, looked at Seb as if he’d just announced he was going to put on a sequinned leotard and parade down the high street.
Then again, maybe what he had proposed wasn’t too far off the mark.
‘That is like, so fucking lame.’ Rylan, fifteen years old but packing around thirty years of attitude, hunched his shoulders as he stared down at the floor.
‘If you’ve got any better ideas for fundraising, I’m open to hearing them,’ Seb said mildly. ‘I take it you do want an outdoor basketball court, Rylan?’
‘Yeah,’ he muttered, eyes still on the floor.
‘Then we need to raise some money. This is one way. If there are others, shout them out.’ Seb paused, eyeing up the group who were all sat, like he was, on the hall floor. They were good kids, in the main. Kids who’d either been cajoled, pushed or had the self-motivation to come to the centre rather than hang out on the streets, getting into trouble.
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