by Faria, Cyndi
Dane reached for her hand, spun her around, dipped her backward, and kissed her mouth. “It’s about winning.”
Dizzy and seeing double, she squinted at Garrett’s narrowed eyes. She shoved Dane without making too much of a scene. “Dane! What was that?”
“Garrett understands… like he said, you’re his friend. I’m your boyfriend.”
“Appears that way.” Garrett’s jaw tightened so the cords in his neck strained. The pie he held tilted.
As if at any moment he planned to thrust the masterpiece into Dane’s face. Maggie wouldn’t blame Garrett one bit, but she needed to convince him that some things were not what they appeared. She wrestled the pie from Garrett as Red jumped up and down. By the light green color of the Granny Smith slices and cinnamon sprinkles still riding the sugared sauce, she could see the apples hadn’t been allowed to marinate long enough in the sugar-and-spice combination to soften and infuse the tart flesh with…love. She plucked an apple slice out of the deep dish and popped the morsel into Garrett’s mouth, knowing the apple slice would bite back.
Garrett’s eyes pinched and his mouth puckered, but he chewed regardless. “You’re right, appearance isn’t everything.”
“We have to go. Now.” She thrust the pie into Dane’s hands, untied Red—who strained to hang back with Dane and that pie—and tugged both toward her truck.
After ten minutes of hauling tail, which included taking Red to her mom’s, she pulled curbside right in front of the dance studio, only to witness Emily, Garrett’s ex-girlfriend, shaking hands with Maggie’s pageant coach.
Blood drained from her head and she gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles whitened.
# # # #
Still sitting in the passenger seat of Maggie’s car, Garrett adjusted his collar, even though the shirt he wore hung loose. Why was Emily at the dance studio? Pageants required commitment, and she was more of the uncommitted type—probably why he’d dated her in the first place, because she was the polar opposite of Maggie. But whatever, he planned on staying away from her and keeping really close to Maggie.
Only, would he be dancing with her or kissing her, too? He couldn’t answer that second question until they cleared up that little matter of Dane being her boyfriend…or not. He swallowed several times and opened the car door, but Maggie reached across the bucket seat and clasped his thigh, her darkening gaze begging his attention.
“Everything will work out. I promise we’ll have fun, so forget what Dane said about me being his girlfriend. I’m not. And whatever happened between you and Emily was mutual, right? Including the break up?”
He smirked and hoped Emily’s take on their relationship proved amicable. She was adventurous, and unafraid of a little danger, but with three brothers, her aggressive nature seemed edgy. “She’s competitive.”
Maggie’s fingers squeezed, then released. “Nothing wrong with a test of wits and skill, as long as it’s judged fairly.” She reached behind the seat, retrieved a canvas duffle bag, and plopped it in his lap.
“What’s this?” He pried open the bag. “Why are you giving me a box of bandages and a roll of tape?”
“By week’s end, you’ll know. Now, take off your shoes.”
Lifting his gaze, he raised one brow. “Don’t I need shoes?”
She curled her fingers, encouraging him to place his foot on the center console while his knee tapped his chin. She removed his sock and taped one heel, then she taped his other foot. Lastly, she passed him a pair of leather shoes with a slash of patent leather on the sides and a good inch heel. “Wear these. They’re Latin performance dance shoes we’ll practice in all week, so, come competition night, you’ll be used to them.”
The new leather gloved his foot. “Blisters. Sounds like a blast.”
Her smile seemed forced, but he followed her into the dance studio and tried to convince his nervous stomach to embrace the challenge and to disregard Emily’s gaping mouth. As long as he kept his focus on Maggie and helped her achieve her dreams, he’d become the viable dance partner she hoped he could be.
Inside the rectangular studio, mirrors lined three walls and gave an infinite illusion of oak flooring.
Ms. Aubrey, the instructor and co-chair of the homecoming parade for as long as Garrett could remember, waved her arms for the five pageant contestants and their partners to form a circle around her.
He recognized all the twenty-something contestants, both male and female. These were kids he’d run around with forever—a slice of hometown with people he was honored to join. He felt a warm sense of appreciation Maggie had asked him to be her partner.
“Okay, contestants. This year I’ve decided to let Fate choose which dance we’ll perform at next Saturday’s festival. Garrett, since you’re new to the competition,” she offered him a brown bag that he dipped his hand into, pulling out a piece of paper, “read it out loud, please.”
“Tango.”
“Ah, yes, the Latin dance of seduction. We haven’t performed this number in four years, and the dance is always a crowd pleaser. Grab your partner and take the floor.”
Ms. Aubrey turned on “La Cumparsita”.
Garrett recognized the ballroom dance from the selection his European grandmother with Argentinean ancestry had played. He tapped his thumb against his thigh to the 4/4 rhythm.
With a gentle touch, Maggie raised his chin and encouraged him to hold his shoulders in a way that caused his back to flatten in a soldier’s stance. In simple terms, she explained the movement of his extended arms, rotation of his palm on her back to guide her around the other couples, and the step, step, step, slide, slide movement of his feet.
She hissed.
Shit. He’d stepped on her foot, right where the strap laced over her arch. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. You’re here. The trick is to feel the music’s rhythm with your body.”
As his voice had done during the first year he’d tried to learn French, his feet sputtered and slurred, unable to comprehend what they were supposed to do. On the fifteenth “I’m sorry,” he cringed. Every step forward, his feet stuck in a pattern that resisted a new direction, he hurt her. In turn hurting himself.
But she kept moving, kept smiling… and so much more, making his heart and mind expand with a sense of awe.
That dance lesson hadn’t ended with a kiss, as he’d hoped. Nor had the next one the following night. And two days later, he questioned what he’d gotten himself into. What had he been thinking? But he knew the answer—he needed a change and he’d gladly put his trust in Maggie to show him another way to infuse his life with fun.
He’d been wrong to think dancing was a gentle sport meant for beauty contestants and classy gents. The tango took the stamina he’d obtained as a fire cadet, but his grace and timing still needed work, as was apparent by Maggie’s bruised arch. Why she still wanted him as a partner eluded him, but he didn’t plan on letting her down. He spun her so they faced the opposite direction and pressed his cheek against hers.
She giggled and pulled closer, then she sidestepped, straddling his right leg until her black tights snugged against his jeaned thigh.
Capturing her gaze, he licked his lips. Did he dare kiss her now? Again? Or could he go even further, and pronounce his ever-growing feelings. “I want this…”
She bit her lip and leaned in. “If you want something bad enough, you’ll find a way to get through the rough patch and go after it. Whether it’s winning a pageant, or—”
Kissing you. “Overcoming claustrophobia.”
She smiled in a way that made his heart sing. In time to the music, he continued to tango around the room, his body upright with hers and separated above the waist while below the hips, they entwined in footwork that seemed impossible to maneuver, but somehow worked.
“Beautiful form, Garrett. You’re a natural, like your father.” Ms. Aubrey patted him on the shoulder. “Now, to the basic frame’s beginning, let’s add a corte.”
After tw
o more hours, his calf muscles cramped like he’d climbed stairs leading to heaven, and his once-dry tee shirt clung to his chest in a sticky sweat. But, coming off an eight-hour shift and five hours of dance lessons, he didn’t dare stop moving for fear he’d fall down.
Where Maggie’s palm rested on his bicep, she squeezed. “You’re doing wonderful. This week was tough, but I wouldn’t have wanted anyone else as my partner.”
A splash of warmth doused his already heated body, not from exertion but from something deeper. Maggie in his arms, his right hand on her lower back, feeling her breath on his face, her eyes sparkling up at him like when they’d first pronounced their best friend status. Her soft gaze infused him with desire he’d never dreamed possible and held a hint of something foreign, something he wanted to explore. Something like her awareness that he loved her as more than a friend.
Ms. Aubrey clapped twice and the dancing halted. She waved a hand at the water dispenser in the corner. “Since Maggie’s the reigning Miss Safe Haven, I’d like her to share why she decided to enter the pageant.”
Whereas Maggie had been on the ground and digging in the dirt at the beginning of the week, today on stage she spoke eloquently and moved as if riding on a cloud intent on hovering over nearby Copper Mountain. She neither swayed, nor fussed nervously, but addressed the group with ease like the mayor or town pastor.
Before his eyes, he saw her in a new light—his angel—and he wanted to follow and never look back at his old life.
She clasped her hands and directed her gaze at him. “Some people think I partake in the pageant for the money, scholarships, or to please my mom. And in part, that’s true. I’ve already received my degree in biology and have been accepted to the University of Davis, School of Veterinary Medicine, and will start next quarter. But after I graduate, I’d like to travel Europe, maybe work as a veterinarian there....
“Oh, nice...” Ms. Aubrey turned the music off.
“But there’s more to the story. When I was a little girl, my father was stationed overseas. When he’d return home, he swept me into his arms, swung me about, and called me princess.” Her voice roughened and she took a sip of water. “Then he died.”
Garrett’s heart pinched along with his throat and eyes. They’d both lost their fathers, honorable men.
“But I was no longer that little girl who could so easily get lost in dreams or ever be his princess again. Keeping myself locked in a sort of fantasyland, filled that void each time I imagined myself his princess. Then my mother suggested I enter the competition to become Miss Safe Haven. I knew I had to learn to dance and excel in school. I had to get involved with the community. But more importantly, I learned life is too short not to be happy.”
Ms. Aubrey wiped her tears and Garrett sniffed his away. How had he been so self-centered to have never known the truth? Never realized the pageants helped Maggie smile through her loss. She, too, used her skill to please others. He needed to be more like her. Work harder at what he wanted.
“Thank you, Maggie. What a beautiful story of self-motivation and evidence of why you continue to reign as Miss Safe Haven.” The music volume increased. “Now, let’s get back to tango. Everyone look to your left.”
With hesitation, Garrett looked and locked his stare on Emily’s gaze.
“Now, switch partners.”
# # # #
One dance with Emily. A single dance…
Maggie had known the switch was coming for Garrett. She was expected to share a dance with each male in the room prior to competition, so of course Garrett would have to dance with each female. She shouldn’t be worrying about him dancing with Emily. Except, when his head tipped back on occasion and he openly laughed, a nervous tremor riddled her body. Maggie assumed that, given how easily Emily straddled his leg, she already knew him and his body in a way Maggie did not.
Emily glared at Maggie, fluttered her eyelashes, and released a flirtatious laugh.
Maggie gripped her partner’s hand to reign in her composure, but through no fault of her partner, who excelled at the tango, her heels felt more like clogs.
Ms. Aubrey clapped. “Return to your original partner.”
Garrett’s hand found hers and he squeezed without breaking step or form. He immediately said, “I was wrong about why you entered the pageant. I’m sorry about your father.”
“Neither of us complain about what we can’t change. But, visualizing has always helped me overcome my fears. Too bad, I can’t get you and Emily out of my mind.” She forced her lips to lift. What had Emily said to Garrett to keep his feet so light that not once had he stumbled, bumped, or stepped on her? Maggie’s feet, on the other hand, throbbed.
The music peaked and, suddenly, Garrett’s cheek landed against hers, his rough skin pulling a sensual gasp from her throat. Together, they tangoed to the opposite side of the mirrored room.
“Dancing with her is easy because I don’t care about her the way I do you.”
Music to her ears, and heart, and all the spaces in between. The molecules that made up her soul resonated from his words. “But I want you to be like that with me. Here. Now. Fluid like…” she almost said lovers.
But they were not, and had never been. They were friends, she reminded herself, who’d barely shared a single kiss days ago. As soon as the contest was over, she’d return to school for four more years.
Garrett would eventually pass his firefighter exam and be locked to this town forever. Abruptly, he lowered her so she slid down his masculine frame, which flowed against her torso like muscular cobbles beneath a river’s current. In one sharp movement, he lifted her upright and curled her back before she, once again, jolted upright to straddle his supportive thigh. “One more day with you, and we will put to shame every couple in this room.”
Her brows rolled to shadow her disbelieving eyes. “How can you be so sure? The others will be practicing all night, and you have to return to work.”
With the flip of his wrist, he spun her from his arm. He reeled her back into his clutches, his sparkling gaze burning into her. With his palm’s pressure steady on her shoulder, he guided her this way and that. “Don’t ever doubt how powerful is my desire to see your needs met.”
Blood rushed to heat her face and she tripped over her own foot.
He caught her mid-fall, letting her hair sweep the floor for two beats before lifting her to a stand. His footwork kept perfect tempo with the next beat. “Keep moving… even the worst mistakes are unnoticeable to the common eye. Emily was a mistake. You’re not.”
Her lip quivered and, though her knees weakened, he kept her moving, kept proving he’d mastered the dance. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’m sure. We’re inseparable. Where you go, I follow. Where I lead, you’re right there beside me, telling me to keep going. All the bumps and bruises make us stronger. Better.” His grip tightened even more. “Love doesn’t lie.”
Did he love her? She blinked to keep her tears fanned and swallowed over the pain-filled lump in her throat.
He lowered his head until full lips partnered with hers, and in that sweetest surrender, her best friend became more. A partner that danced with her in a tango of taste and touch most masterfully skilled. He made her forget about beauty pageants, or exes, or college, or ever leaving Safe Haven.
The music rose to a crescendo while his palm’s pressure and release guided her from the windowed wall to the mirrored sides. Finally, in a graceful dip, he supported her arched back, his arm muscles not revealing a single tremor. While her chest rose and fell, she accepted she was more, that he did in fact love her.
The music faded.
“Last rehearsal will be tomorrow. On Saturday, we’ll meet at the fairgrounds. Stage one. Class adjourned.”
# # # #
With Maggie beside him, Garrett barely made it to the truck, down the street, and through his house’s front door without begging her to kiss him a hundred times over. Now, his shirt was unbuttoned and she admired his ches
t.
More than anything he’d ever celebrated, he wanted her quaking fingers against his skin, her lips never disconnected from his. To hear her whisper those three little words. To forever change friendship into something epic. “Are we moving too fast?”
Her fingers shook against his face then lowered. She slipped her palms across his pecs, riding his skin until his shirt puddled on the carpet at his feet. “Not fast enough.”
With determined steps he walked her backwards toward the shower, intent on washing away any remaining trepidation. Because once they crossed the line from friends to lovers, things between them would change. That was certain. “I don’t want to do anything that will ruin our friendship.”
Her kisses turned desperate. “I trust you. Nothing can destroy what we have.” Her garments fell into a soft, colorful pile, so only her bra and panties, which were as delicate as her touch, covered her honeyed skin.
He gasped and strained to talk. “Mags, things can only get better. I promise. So much better.”
Inside the bathroom, she slipped free both of their remaining clothes. “But we’re heading in opposite directions. I want to travel and you want to stay here.”
He nibbled down her neck, letting her supple skin imprint on his lips and her subtle acquiescence overtake his soul. Blood pounded in his ears, beat against his ribs, and filled every square inch inside him to near bursting. The thought of ever being more than an arm’s length away from her sounded like a cruel crime. “Maybe firefighting isn’t for me. But right now, I’d say we’re on the same page.”
She was right, though. Their goals had always differed, with her wanting to see the world and his world existing among the rolling oaks and lazy Cosumnes River, he also understood her dreams would take him far from the woman he loved. Maybe, he needed to seriously reassess his goals. “I guess if it’s important enough, we can both take time to figure stuff out.”
She laced her arms around his neck. “Right now, I never want to leave this moment.”