Lilli nodded and clutched her purse on her lap, digging her nails into the smooth leather and leaving indentations.
Cameron got out and seconds later the passenger door clicked open. Lilli fumbled for the seat belt and unfastened it. She turned in the seat as Cameron grasped her hand and helped her out. She kept her head low until she’d cleared the doorframe. She’d hit her head one too many times on unfamiliar vehicles and learned her lesson.
“You ready?” he asked.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Then let’s do this.”
She gripped his hand as if it were her lifeline and listened to his instructions as they walked into the building. She’d left her guide dog at home, believing that he would just attract more attention to her blindness. She wanted to be treated like one of the dancers, not as somebody different.
“Okay, this is the dance studio.”
“What do you see?” she asked as he paused.
“I see about ten couples. Standing around in a group.”
“I can hear them. I think they know one another.” By the sounds of their voices and their familiar bantering, it was clear that most of the people in this room were familiar with one another. She could feel their eyes on her. As Cameron led her a few steps forward, the room grew silent except for whispers of speculation.
“I think this is one of the instructors approaching us. Tall, thin guy. Looks like a pussy to me.”
Lilli laughed at that.
An unfamiliar voice spoke next. “Can I help you with something? The beginning class is down the hall.”
“We’re not looking for the beginning class. We want the advanced class.” Cameron spoke with absolute confidence, his smooth masculine voice demanding respect.
“Have you taken any other dance classes?” Skepticism dripped from his voice.
“I’m self-taught. What about you, Lilli?”
“I’ve had classes in ballet, classical dance, salsa, and ballroom dancing. But it’s been a long time. I’ve finally found a partner who is compatible with me.”
“One who can see?” The man didn’t bother to disguise his disdain.
Lilli knew his type. He didn’t believe she could dance like a sighted person. She stood straighter and lifted her chin. She’d dealt with this bullshit before.
“She’s blind?” Cameron said incredulously. “Honey, you didn’t tell me you couldn’t see.”
“Oh, I didn’t? Sorry, I must have overlooked that.”
The instructor coughed, and Lilli imagined his pale face pinched in disgust. “This class is for, uh, fully functioning adults. We aren’t prepared to deal with disabilities. We’re a serious group here, and we can’t be slowed down by people with issues.”
“Issues? Fully functioning?” The anger in Cameron’s voice barely sat below the surface. She knew he was tall and buff. This effeminate weasel would be no match.
“Please don’t take that as an insult, sir, but—”
“We do take it as an insult.” Cameron’s voice held a certain steel edge to it as sharp as a knife blade. “Perhaps we’ll take our business elsewhere.”
“Perhaps you should.” The new voice belonged to a woman, and Lilli knew immediately she ran the show. “We don’t have the bandwidth to deal with people like you.”
“Like her?” Cameron’s voice rose to the point where the room had gone silent. Lilli knew all eyes and ears were on them.
She put a calming hand on Cameron’s arm. “We just want to dance. We won’t be any trouble.”
“How will you see the moves we’re teaching? How will you keep from bumping into other dancers when you can’t see them?” the woman countered.
“Give us a trial run. We can do this,” Lilli insisted.
“I think we should take our business elsewhere. I know discrimination when I see it, and I won’t condone it.”
“I want to stay,” she said softly in Cameron’s ear.
He stiffened, then relaxed. “Okay, if that’s what you want.”
“I’m Lilli, and this is Cameron. We are going to dance. Now. In your class.” She held out her hand and waited. There was a long pause before someone grasped her hand and shook it in a very limp handshake.
“I’m Nathan. This is my partner, Marlana.”
“Pleased to meet you both.”
Her introductions were met with silence. Marlana wasn’t caving.
“Where would you like us?” Lilli asked, keeping her voice cool and professional.
More silence.
“Over there by the wall.” Marlana’s dismissive tone came through loud and clear. She’d put them in a far corner of the room and forget about them.
“Let’s go.” Lilli tugged on Cameron’s hand, but he appeared rooted to the spot. Imagining him glaring at the two instructors brought a smile to her face.
He grunted and led her carefully several steps away. “I can’t understand why you want to stay here. We can find another dance studio.”
She sighed. “Because they’re ignorant, and ignorance can only be combated by education and enlightenment. Surely as an African American you can appreciate that.”
“I can,” he answered thoughtfully.
“Our mission is to prove them wrong.”
“I’d like nothing more. Let’s do it. How do I explain the moves they’ll be showing to you?”
“With your words and your body.”
“I like that.”
She froze, certain he didn’t mean it the way it sounded. Cameron could have any woman he wanted, and if news accounts were to be believed, he had. While she refused to accept pity, she was a realist. It took a special man to take on the responsibilities posed by a blind woman and be prepared to accept the limitations. She’d long ago accepted them, even embraced them, as her other senses became more heightened. Her empathy and ability to read people gave her an edge over many others without similar challenges.
She liked Cameron. She liked how he treated her with respect and understanding, but no pity. His gift of gab helped her see what she couldn’t see. His sense of humor kept her from taking herself too seriously, which she had a tendency to do. His wit kept her on her toes.
In a perfect world, she’d take their relationship to another level to see where it went. She couldn’t. He was a longtime friend of her brother’s. She couldn’t damage that friendship, nor could she damage the friendship she’d come to appreciate with Cameron.
Friends would be all they were.
She’d embrace and appreciate what they’d found together without turning it into something it should never be despite the mutual attraction between them.
Some things were best left alone.
Their attraction was one of those.
Marlana clapped her hands together. “Class, let’s warm up with a simple yet elegant waltz. Is everyone ready?”
With a nod of her head, Lilli squared her shoulders, steeled her spine, and smiled. “Let’s do this.”
Cameron took one hand, the other resting behind her back. “We’ll knock ’em dead.” She could hear the grin in his voice.
“I’m counting on it.”
The music began, and Lilli allowed the notes to flow through her body and become a part of her. Cameron made everything so much easier with his smooth, rhythmic dance steps and strong lead. They glided around the dance floor, their bodies in perfect unison. Lilli laughed, not caring what anyone thought. She was dancing with Cameron and nothing could ruin that. He dipped her low, lifted her in a spin, turned and guided her across the room. She lost herself in the feel of Cameron and the dance, forgetting where they were or who might be judging them. Her feet skimmed the floor, her body became the music, and her soul echoed the melody.
The rest of the room faded away until only she and Cameron existed on this cloud of absolute harmony. She knew his next steps before he took them and anticipated his every move. She had wings. Together they could fly.
The music rose and then fell, signaling the
end of the waltz. Cameron held her in a clinch, his face so close to hers she could feel his hot breath on her lips. She waited, wanting him to kiss her. The world seemed to stand still, as if it, too, were waiting.
Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.
Several heartbeats later, he relaxed his hold on her. She released her held breath and blew out a sigh, but she had no time to linger on the kiss that wasn’t. She stumbled back a step, and his strong hands steadied her.
She heard the clapping of one person, then another, then more.
“Is that for us?” she asked.
“You’d better believe it is, babe. We stole the show.” Cameron squeezed her hand. “Don’t hold your breath, here comes the dynamic duo.”
“What do they look like?” Lilli leaned into Cam, gaining strength from his strong, steady presence.
“Like they’re about to grovel with their tails between their legs.”
“Good. I like groveling.”
“So do I.” Cam laughed, and Lilli beamed, knowing her face had lit up brighter than sequins under a spotlight. She heard murmurs of admiration throughout the room.
“We owe you an apology,” said Marlana.
Lilli nodded, not letting the woman off the hook.
“We were ignorant and very wrong,” Nathan added.
“Yes, you were, and you should be ashamed.” Cameron stood his ground, not giving them any leeway.
“We would both be honored if you’d stay in this class.”
Lilli considered their offer. The petty part of her wanted to flip them off and walk out, having proven her point. The practical part of her begged to stay and learn from these two. They were legendary in the Seattle area for turning out championship ballroom dancers.
“What do you think?” Cameron asked her.
“I think we’ll try it for now and assess whether or not it fits our needs.”
She could imagine their shocked silence. They picked their students. Their students didn’t pick them. Yet they recovered quickly.
“Good,” said Marlana. “Let’s get back to dancing then, shall we?”
Lilli nodded, all smiles again, and followed Cameron’s lead onto the dance floor.
And they danced.
Chapter 12—Next Start
Hunter slogged through the next two weeks, oddly out of sorts and unable to pinpoint the problem. All roads kept leading back to Kate. He missed her, and even football couldn’t fill the void left by her absence.
With Tanner out for the season, the Steelheads’ football season went to shit. Two weeks later the team lost their best defensive back, Braeden Dawson, followed by another season-ending injury to their starting running back. Braeden had been the heart and soul of the defense while Tanner had been the same on offense.
Minus the leadership of both men, the team floundered and degenerated to finger pointing, blame placing, and mediocrity. They lost more games than they won. By the time Christmas rolled around, Hunter gratefully traveled the two hours with Lilli to spend Christmas Eve and part of Christmas Day at their parents’ home on an Olympic Peninsula reservation.
Sally and Tom McCoy lived in a modest three-bedroom, two-bath home amid dozens of similar homes in the same well-kept Native American housing development Hunter and Lilli had grown up in.
Despite multiple offers to buy them a new home on the water, both refused. As a tribal elder, his father immersed himself in bettering the tribe for all members and overseeing part of the tribal casino’s operation. His mother worked as a nurse in the tribal health clinic and loved her job. Neither had any interest in moving, nor did they care about material goods, beyond basic comforts and his dad’s eighty-inch ultimate high definition TV, which was last year’s Christmas present from Hunter.
A few miles away, Hunter’s uncle and his wife lived with his grandmother on a small farm where they grew hay and raised a few racehorses and riding horses. On this farm was where Hunter developed his love of horses and horse racing. His uncle was a character who often drew Hunter into one of his get-rich-quick schemes, hence the purchase of Sid. Despite his uncle’s dabbling in racehorse training, Hunter was a savvy enough businessman to hire the best for his expensive horse. His uncle had been disappointed at first but quickly got over it when Hunter presented him with a share of the horse and a promise to give him breeding rights for his mares.
Christmas Eve was a joyous, chaotic affair as always with myriad relatives ranging in age from babies to great-grandmother at ninety-three years old.
Hunter asked around for word about Talia. She’d moved to Arizona and was working as a drug and alcohol counselor to a local tribe. She, of course, loved her job. As idealistic teenagers, they’d spent hours discussing how to better Native Americans’ plight in the United States. They’d vowed to dedicate their lives to the service of others and work side by side to attain their lofty goals. Then he’d gone to the University of Washington on a football scholarship, and she’d gone to Arizona State. They maintained a loose long-distance relationship for the next four years, dating others, but always drawn back to each other.
Until he’d chosen professional football over their dreams.
She’d accused him of selling out for money. He’d tried to explain his reasoning—how his stature as an NFL football player would give attention to their mission, how the money would be a bonus, how they could still follow their dreams, but his career would change the time frame.
She’d have none of it and cut him off.
He’d been despondent and shocked at how quickly she’d moved on, but he respected her wishes and didn’t contact her.
Talia was supposed to be The One. Either he was mistaken, or she’d be back one day. Even though he’d waited for her, there had been other women. He’d compared every one of them to Talia, which brought him to Kate.
She’d left town shortly after that last time they’d had sex. Wild, raw, animal sex. Like his ancestors would’ve had without any of the restrictions placed on them by civilization. He’d never had the kind of sex with a woman he’d had those few occasions with Kate, but Kate was all wrong for Hunter despite this insane attraction between them.
For starters, she was a spoiled rich girl. Her highest ambition was to win ribbons and horse races, and shop for the next best thing in designer clothes and handbags. She didn’t care about helping those in need. She didn’t want to spend her days with the poor and impoverished. She was an outsider. Not a tribal member. She hadn’t been raised with the culture and traditions he had. She didn’t fit his present or his future.
So why couldn’t he get her out of his mind?
There was one person who always had all the answers. His great-grandmother would know. She knew everything.
* * * *
Hunter woke up early Christmas morning. The sun still hid beyond the horizon, not yet woken from its slumber. The day promised to be clear and cold. A layer of frost blanketed the ground, giving the appearance of crystalized snow.
Hunter bundled up and walked the short distance to his nana’s modest one-bedroom home a half block away. Despite it being 4:30 a.m., he knew she’d be up and about, bustling around her small home with the energy of a woman one-third of her age.
The years may have etched more lines into her face, but nothing slowed her down. He dreaded the day when that happened and prayed for God to take her quickly so she’d never know the inside of a nursing home or spend her last days in bed.
He shook his head to clear it of such disturbing thoughts. It was so easy to pretend Nana would be around forever to offer sage advice and sharp criticism when needed to future generations of McCoy children. Only she wouldn’t.
Hunter refused to face such a sad inevitability.
Live in the moment, the past is past, and tomorrow isn’t today. That was one of Nana’s constant lessons. Even as a young boy, he’d sat on the floor and listened to her and Grandpa tell the stories passed down from generation to generation. Storytelling was a lost art in any culture, and especi
ally among Native Americans, who hadn’t written down their stories and depended on future generations to pass them down via songs and narrative.
Nana opened the door to him before he put one large foot on the bottom step.
Her smile was contagious, and he smiled back.
“Merry Christmas, Nana.” He enveloped her in a hug, marveling as usual at how strong those arms were around his waist.
“Come in. Come in.” She turned and walked slowly into the cozy living area. Her back was bent and her hair as white as snow. Her body might have slowed down, but her mind was sharp.
Hunter followed Nana inside, removing a small sack from his jacket pocket. “For you.”
Her eyes lit up. For Nana it was the little things. Expensive presents were met with disdain. She wanted small and meaningful. She poured the contents of the bag onto the counter and oohed and ahhed as if he’d given her a bag of diamonds. The beads he’d found weren’t expensive, but they were exactly the kind of beads she used in her jewelry-making and to decorate the baskets she weaved.
Even better, they were in Steelhead blue and green.
“They’re perfect.” She patted his hand. “Have a seat.”
He sank down into one of the overstuffed chairs older than he was.
She sat across from him and picked up her current project, working as she talked. Her hands weren’t as steady as they’d once been. Her fingers were bent by arthritis, but she’d never been one to complain, even though the process of doing the beading had to be painful.
“You’re troubled,” she said in that uncanny way of hers.
“How did you know?” He thought he hid his inner conflicts pretty damn well.
“What does a man with your blessings have to be troubled over unless it’s a woman?”
“What makes you say that?”
“Women are the one thing money can’t control.” She looked up and winked at him. “And so are men, though I find men to be easier to read than a devious woman.” She picked up her herbal tea and took a sip. “Have you heard from Talia?”
Hunter didn’t miss the reference to Talia and devious in the same snippet of conversation. Only Talia wasn’t devious, merely ambitious and driven by a higher calling.
Game Changer: Seattle Steelheads Football (Game On in Seattle Book 7) Page 11