by Karin Baine
‘That’ll be me.’ He carried on cleaning his paintbrushes on the dirty rag he’d pulled from his pocket and no one would ever have guessed he’d just turned her world upside down.
‘You?’ She waited for him to burst out laughing and tell her he was only joking, and that actually John, the elderly porter at the clinic, was her real partner. That would have been preferable to the thought that she was expected to spend the next weeks grinding up against the hospital hunk when the mere brush of his hand at her back had her jumping as if she’d been scalded.
‘That’s not going to be a problem, is it?’
Yes, it was going to be a problem! She could scarcely be in the same room as him without getting all hot and bothered and frustrated at herself for finding him attractive despite all those qualities that normally made her want to run in the opposite direction. Not only was he rumoured to be the workplace Lothario, but she’d seen him when things didn’t go his way and she had no intention of inviting another volatile man into her life. She didn’t want to be fooled like her mother and get hurt as a result.
Although none of what had happened tonight was making any of this easier for her. She didn’t need to see a softer guy who did charity work and didn’t get upset when she changed his plans at the last minute—that wasn’t going to help her get over this nonsensical crush that made her pulse race every time their paths crossed. Neither was spending countless hours of rehearsal time pressed cheek to cheek and everything else up against him, but what choice did she have now? It was going to be pretty obvious the issue she had was a personal one if she pulled out now, and not the one he would probably assume. Retreating from the situation was just going to lead to more friction at work, since there was no way she could tell him the real reason she didn’t want to be paired with him. She was in a no-win, no-escape-from-this-attraction situation. All she could do was hope it would end once the pressure of the competition claimed her attention.
‘No. Of course not. I’m looking forward to dancing with you.’ The lie burned her tongue. Her scars already felt as though they were shining out from beneath the tattoos, declaring her damaged goods in comparison to the numerous beauties he’d been linked to in the past.
She could imagine twirling around the floor, the raised skin where she’d been sewn back together mapping out the story of her life beneath his fingertips and making him recoil in disgust. It wouldn’t be the first time a man had rejected her because of the way she looked, although she’d sworn it would be the last time anyone would have the opportunity to get that close. The dent in her confidence had been partially repaired with the magic of a tattoo needle, but even that only managed to disguise the trauma her body had gone through from a distance.
‘Dancing? Who’s dancing?’ One of the elderly gentlemen who’d been pottering around nearby now sidled up to engage in the conversation.
‘We’re just talking about the competition, Grandad. This is Mollie, from work. She’s going to be my partner. Mollie, this is my grandfather, Hugh Sheridan.’ There really was no need for Ben to make the introduction as the family resemblance was obvious. Although the hair was a lustrous snowy white and the brilliant blue eyes surrounded by deep laughter lines, Mr Sheridan senior was basically an older version of his grandson.
‘Nice to meet you, Hugh.’ She reached out her hand to greet him but, rather than shaking it, he lifted it to his lips and dropped a kiss there instead.
‘Lovely to make your acquaintance, Mollie.’
The old-fashioned flattery brought a flush to her cheeks and it was easy to see where Ben had inherited his charm from.
‘I taught Ben everything he knows,’ he said, with that same twinkle in his blue eyes she’d seen in his grandson’s on her arrival.
‘I’m sure you did.’ There was probably a Sheridan Handbook for Seducing Women tucked somewhere between the family photos, she surmised, given how easily she’d already fallen for their routine.
‘I was quite the mover in my day.’ As if to prove the point, he tugged Mollie towards him, put her hand on his shoulder and began to sway. With one hand gently resting at her waist, he whisked her around the floor, moving so quickly it stole her breath away. He was such a strong lead, so adept, it didn’t seem to matter she didn’t know the steps to whatever song he was humming. Ordinarily she would’ve been mortified by the display they were putting on for the others in the room, but there was something reassuring in the confidence of her partner’s steps that put her at ease. If Ben had indeed inherited his grandfather’s skills as well as his looks, they might actually be able to salvage something of this shambles.
* * *
‘Put her down, Grandad.’ Although Ben was always delighted to see his grandfather having fun and being his old smooth self, he didn’t want it to be at the expense of Mollie’s comfort levels.
He’d been afraid to question what had prompted her decision to take part again for fear of scaring her off when she was clearly already skittish about participating. After their previous run-in it was a big step for her to seek him out here, especially when she’d so vehemently denied entering the competition in the first place. He certainly didn’t need his grandad scaring her off again. Not everyone responded well to having him around.
Hugh spun Mollie out with a final flourish that sent her off balance in her peep-toe spotty wedges and forced Ben to step in before she clattered into the nearby metal shelving.
‘Sorry,’ Mollie mumbled into his chest as she collided into him, her hands warming the skin beneath his T-shirt. He was lost in those eyes staring up at him, shifting from green to blue like the ever-changing tides. He’d always thought her pretty but seeing her up close like this, away from the work environment, he was free to appreciate the beauty of her quirky style. Not only did she look like one of those sexy fifties’ pin-ups, but she emitted that same look-but-don’t-touch vibe. Especially when she was pushing away from him and putting as much distance between them as possible. A detail that could prove awkward for the purposes of her visit.
‘You’ll have to work on your showmanship if you want high scores from the judges. They like a bit of flair.’ His grandfather was oblivious to any discomfort he’d caused as he went on to critique his unsuspecting dance partner.
‘I’ll remember that.’ Mollie humoured the comment with a smile and retrieved her red and black, cherry-embossed bag from the floor where it had fallen in the melee. She brushed the sawdust off it and Ben hoped it wasn’t one of those designer pieces that cost more than a small car.
‘Gran and Grandad were ballroom champions in their day. They were the ones who taught me to dance.’ It had been an attempt to instil some discipline and respect into their wayward grandson. Like any sullen teen, he hadn’t appreciated it at the time, but now those steps reminded him of that precious time he’d spent with people who’d loved him and genuinely wanted the best for him.
In the beginning Ben had thought engaging him in the fundraising efforts was a good idea since they were dealing with two areas very close to his heart. After this display he was beginning to think his involvement might turn out to be more detrimental than beneficial to the cause. Still, he wasn’t doing this to win any glitter-ball trophies. At least here, under supervision, his grandfather was still made to feel useful, undertaking the less perilous tasks of sanding down the wood.
‘Perhaps you’d be able to show us a few pointers when the time comes?’ It was refreshing to find Mollie offering to involve his grandfather in the proceedings when so many often regarded him as a nuisance. Including his ex, Penny, who’d seemed to regard him as competition for Ben’s attention.
That simple acceptance had his grandfather grinning from ear to ear. ‘I like this one, son. She’s much nicer than that last one.’
The slap he gave Ben on the back before he walked away whistling almost knocked the air from his lungs. It was as close to a compliment as anyone could ge
t from him. These days he wouldn’t be long making his opinion known if he found fault with anyone. Another reason he and Penny had found it impossible to even be in the same room together. He’d frequently commented on his dislike for her and Ben wasn’t altogether convinced it had solely been down to his condition. With hindsight he’d concede her actions at times could’ve been considered selfish, especially when she’d given him the ultimatum between choosing her or his grandfather—a contest she could never have hoped to win. Ben owed him too much, loved him too much, to throw him on the scrapheap without a second thought.
Unfortunately, this unconventional introduction left him having to make an explanation to his work colleague about a part of his life he tried to keep private. He did his best to keep the details of his grandfather’s decline in health since his retirement out of the public domain, but that secrecy had left Ben’s own personal life open to speculation and exaggeration. A price he was more than willing to pay to preserve the reputation his grandfather had built over the years as an eminent local GP.
‘Sorry about that. He didn’t get along with my ex.’
‘She didn’t like dancing?’ The droll reply managed to make him laugh and he appreciated the attempt to remove some of the awkwardness of having to discuss his personal life with her. He wouldn’t have blamed her if she’d taken great delight in hearing about his failed relationship when he hadn’t been the nicest person to her in the past, but it obviously wasn’t in her nature to be malicious. It gave him hope that, whatever personal issues were uncovered during their time together in preparation for this competition, she wouldn’t try to use them against him. Plus, that sense of humour he hadn’t known she possessed might actually help make this experience less of a chore for them both.
‘Not a fan of Hugh Sheridan’s in general.’ It occurred to Ben that he’d had no idea if Penny enjoyed dancing or not. In their eighteen months together he couldn’t remember a time when they’d actually done it for fun. They’d attended all the usual evening functions together that demanded their attendance as representatives of the hospital, but she had always seen them as a way to make connections rather than an excuse to cut loose on the dance floor with him.
‘Ah. Do you two come as a package deal?’
‘Something like that.’ He was reluctant to get drawn into the whys and wherefores of it all now, when the two of them were just beginning to get along. Any difficulties would probably make themselves apparent in time anyway and she’d realise why no other woman was willing to stick around for long. The very fact she was still here after that display was already an improvement on recent records.
‘Well, uh, I look forward to dancing with both of you. Just tell me when and where.’ She slipped her bag up over her shoulder and made a move to leave. Ben should have realised a young, beautiful woman had somewhere else to be. Not everyone spent their free time socialising with pensioners and volunteering manual labour. She’d look more at home sipping cocktails in an exclusive wine bar or whizzing along the coast in a convertible car than she did here in the grime and chaos of The Shed, but he wasn’t ready for her to go.
They’d had that run-in at work but he liked that she’d challenged him, questioned how every course of treatment would affect her patient personally; it showed she cared. He’d slipped up that one time, becoming more confrontational than usual after a rough night trying to get his grandfather settled, but, now she was here laughing and joking and shedding that frosty image she unknowingly projected at work, he couldn’t wait to start the lessons. It would do him good to be around someone younger for a change and remind him he hadn’t totally surrendered his right to fun in order to look after those who needed him.
‘We have a room upstairs we hire out for meetings and classes. No one’s using it for the next few weeks so I thought it would be perfect for rehearsals.’ It also meant he could split his time between The Shed and dance rehearsals without having to go home in between.
‘Sounds good. We can compare work rotas and figure out a schedule but I’m free tomorrow night unless any emergencies arise.’
‘Me, too.’
‘So I guess that means it’s official then... We’re doing this.’
He could see Mollie’s apprehension in the way she was biting her lip and nibbling off a patch of that bright red lipstick until she was starting to make him nervous about the extra commitment he was taking on here, too.
‘In that case I’ll see you same time tomorrow then, partner.’
She stopped worrying her lip long enough to smile at him; an acceptance that no matter what challenges lay ahead they were in this together. In that moment he was prepared to clear his entire schedule to make time for her. And the competition.
CHAPTER THREE
MOLLIE HAD HAD a full twenty-four hours to obsess over the prospect of spending the evening ahead with Ben. That included several hours’ sorting through the entire contents of her wardrobe deciding on what to wear. From all those eighties’ dance movies she’d seen, the uniform for practice was supposedly a leotard and leg warmers, but that was a step too far out of her comfort zone and might have attracted more than a few curious glances on the Tube.
Instead, she’d opted for a pair of red Capri pants and a red and white checked shirt for ease of movement. She’d had the foresight to tie her hair up in a scarf tonight and donned a pair of rubber-soled baseball pumps in case she slipped, having seen how dusty the premises were last night. Outwardly, at least, she thought she looked the part, while the cha-cha-cha was going on in her stomach.
For anyone who didn’t know better, they could’ve been forgiven for thinking she’d been getting ready for a first date. She shrugged off the ridiculous notion, putting it down to the teasing she’d endured from her sister over the subject. In the short time she’d been at the hospital even she knew about Ben’s reputation as a ladies’ man and seemed to think that was a cue for Mollie to throw herself at him. As if some ill-advised affair orchestrated with a work colleague would erase all traces of her painful past.
It was silly to be thinking about this as anything more than a show-mance, a pretend partnership they were hoping would impress the dance judges and those willing to pay to see the spectacle. If only someone would tell that to her flip-flopping stomach and pounding heart, which were insisting this could be the beginning of some passionate love affair. That was as likely as this being the start of a glittering dance career, but sometimes it was nice to fantasise that the impossible could happen.
They definitely had a spark, and she wouldn’t be human if she hadn’t thought how that might translate onto a romantic level. They’d already proved they were both passionate when they needed to be and goodness knew he was easy on the eye, but she certainly didn’t need any more complications in her life when she was trying to simplify it.
If living with her mother had taught her one thing, it was that relationships were anything but simple. However, unlike her other family members, Mollie’s love life had never been a priority and she wasn’t about to make it one now.
She could see the light on in the room above the darkened shop front and as Ben’s tall shadow moved across the window upstairs it soon became apparent he was the only one in the building. It added an extra out-of-hours frisson that she really didn’t need if she ever hoped to get these nerves under control. She let herself in and followed the music drifting down the stairs. It had that sensual beat that brought images to mind of sexy Latin dancers moving their bodies together like lovers and she immediately froze on the steps. She’d been so consumed by the prospect of this first appointment together it hadn’t even occurred to her to worry about what dance they would actually be required to perform together.
She was a beginner; someone who wasn’t particularly comfortable in her own skin, and she’d seen enough demonstrations of dance talent to know the dramatic, sultry steps required for a rumba or a tango, or, heaven forbid,
a paso doble, would be her worst nightmare come true. Not that she could see herself shimmying and sashaying to a salsa either.
Why the hell had she agreed to this?
She took a step back, seriously considering tiptoeing back out of the door and pretending she’d never come here.
Unfortunately, the traitorous wooden step underfoot creaked with the shift of her weight and gave away her position.
‘Mollie? Is that you? Come on up.’ Ben peered down from the top of the stairs and stole away that last chance to back out.
‘Hi.’ She pasted on a smile and forced herself up towards a man most women would already be stampeding towards.
‘I’m afraid I can’t offer a sprung floor, or mirrored walls...’ Ben waved her into the perfectly adequate space with an apology, but Mollie would take the inoffensive magnolia walls over her reflection staring back at her from every angle every time.
‘I think you’re overestimating my abilities here. I don’t even know what difference that would make to whatever crime I’m about to commit against the soft shoe shuffle.’ She dumped her bag and her jacket on the stacked seats near the door. The rest of the room had obviously been cleared to give them space to move around and, judging by Ben’s rolled-up sleeves and the faint glisten of sweat on his forehead, it wasn’t difficult to work out who had done the heavy lifting.
‘Don’t worry. Everyone was paired up according to their abilities. We didn’t have the budget for professionals but we did partner those of us with some know-how with the novices. You said on your application you had no previous experience. I’m fully aware of what I’m in for.’
She wished she did.
‘And as far as footwear goes, you will need to learn how to move in heels.’ He eyed the sensible shoes she’d worn for practicality, prioritising her need to keep her bones intact over her sense of style for tonight. All to no avail, it would seem.