Dancing with Deception

by Kadi Dillon

  Rose had taught her to cook, too. Pancakes, French toast, and homemade macaroni and cheese were some of the dishes Rebecca painstakingly prepared for the family. She had only burnt seven pancakes and her macaroni was only a little chewy but no one had complained when she had made it for dinner. Rose was an abundant well of patience that left Rebecca feeling giddy. Even Charles seemed pleased with her company.

  Restless, Rebecca ventured out to the boatyard one afternoon. She was curious to see how one went about building one of the massive boats the Avery’s owned and she was counting on this little escapade to take her mind off her troubles.

  Critter stood behind one of the monstrous hunks of wood glaring at it. He’d lost his shirt sometime to the heat and all though Rebecca could honestly say she enjoyed the view, nothing seemed to compare to Gideon’s beautifully sculpted torso. Sweat slickened and obviously disgruntle, Critter swung around and snatched his water bottle off a nearby table.

  Temper quickly turned to charm as he smiled at Rebecca. “Hello, sweetheart. Did you figure out you’re madly in love with me after all? Just say the words and I’ll book a romantic getaway to Tahiti.”

  As always, he improved her mood. Critter was attractive, but he had the big brother quality. Appreciating that, and him, she gave him a smacking kiss on his tanned cheek.

  “You are entirely too good for me.”

  “All the ladies are saying this.” He shook his head. “What brings you to my office?”

  “Boredom,” she lied. “I wanted to see how you manly men made your living.”

  Critter finished off the bottle of water and after tossing it into the waste basket, opened another. “I could show you, but it would definitely cost you.”

  “I already kissed you,” she pointed out.

  “I show you mine, you show me yours.” He burst out in wild laughter when her eyes widened. “I show you boat building, you teach me a dance. Where is your mind, Niña?”

  “In a Cleveland gutter obviously,” she muttered, embarrassed. “Fine. I’ll teach you a dance if you show me how to do whatever it is you’re doing. This one looks about finished.”

  She could easily picture it slick with fresh paint, gliding through the water.

  “It is. I have yet to sand the wood down. Charles will then do a quality check. Then, I’ll be painting it.” His sneer came back to his face. “Pink.”

  “Pink?”

  “Hot pink. It’s what the client wants.” He muttered something rude and shrugged. “She’ll be one happy client. There’s her paint right over there.” He indicated a small hutch off to the corner of his work station.

  Rebecca opened the door and couldn’t stifle her laughter.

  “Oh, my. That’s bright.”

  “It should be illegal.”

  She closed the hutch and walked to one of the machines. It looked mean and a little ugly. “Is this what you sand it with?”

  “Si. You’ll want to wear this if you’re still inclined to watch.” He handed her a white mask to put over her nose and mouth.

  She fit the string around her head and watched in fascination as Critter ran the sander over the beautiful oak wood. He emptied the bag of dust probably a dozen times before he’d finished one side of the boat.

  When he was finished, he told her to run her hand along the wood he’d sanded to feel its smoothness. She sat quietly as he cleaned up his tools.

  “All right, chick.” Critter toweled his hands dry and crossed his arms. “I showed you mine, you show me yours.”

  Rebecca vaulted off the bench and led him outside.

  When they reached the grass, Rebecca slipped a rubber band out of her jean pocket and tied her hair back. “This is the first dance I learned in hip hop. I was seven.”

  “Hip hop,” he repeated uncertainly.

  Rebecca smiled. “You ready?”

  After an intelligible mutter, she took her position. The tempo beat in her mind and she tapped her foot to it. To the left. She slid and counted again, Critter followed suit. To the right.

  She heard his choked laughter. To the left…

  She quickened her moves and twisted her hips as she slid across the grass.

  “Dip,” she said. She flicked a glance at Critter and the laughter bubbled out. He looked ridiculous—an ogre of a man shaking his hips to an imaginary beat. He slid when she did and shook his butt.

  He flashed Rebecca a triumphant grin.

  “Back to first position,” she instructed. “Not bad.”

  Critter rubbed sweat from his brow. “It’s in my blood.”

  His beaming smile dimmed from his eyes. Rebecca tilted her head and felt her heart ache a little for him. Was he homesick? Gideon had mentioned something about him leaving Mexico, but she couldn’t remember.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Critter shrugged. “I’ve got a lot of work to do still.”

  Never one to invade someone’s privacy, Rebecca nodded. “Have fun with your pink boat. I hope the client likes it.”

  “She’d better.”

  Before Rebecca could walk away, Critter stopped her. His dark eyes grew distant. “I haven’t been home in years. It’s no secret. One night, my family was there. The next morning, they were gone. After my mama died, none of us were the same.”

  “I’m very sorry.”

  “I don’t even know if my brothers left together, or all went separate ways. Papa was the only one to leave a note.” His smile brightened a little. “But I came here, could speak very little English. The Avery’s hired me in their boatyard. Miss Jess got hurt, they moved. Miss Rose didn’t give me a choice. Just told me to pack it up.”

  Rebecca smiled. “You’re their family.”

  “Yeah, I am.”

  When Critter left, the same desolate feeling swept over her. She didn’t know how to shake it. She could go back to the house if she wanted company. Jess was always willing to hang out. But more than loneliness, there was a sense of something unresolved with Gideon. She wondered about it often, but hadn’t the courage to investigate it.

  Her relationship with Gideon had become easier. He didn’t joke around with her as Colin did or confide in her like Jess, but they’d discovered they had a few things in common. They both appreciated the same type of music, ate similar foods, and neither one had a taste for sweets. She was surprised to discover how laid back he could be when they were spending time with the entire family.

  They’d discussed the painting and the problems surrounding it a couple of times. Charles had a friend he trusted on the mainland who had promised to look into the elusive Henry Jefferson. They expected some information any day now and had all agreed not to make any moves until they had it. Rebecca was just fine with that. She thoroughly enjoyed her time with the Avery’s and almost dreaded that she would be leaving eventually.

  The water was dark today and reminded Rebecca of her favorite midnight silk teddy she wore to bed when she was at home. She stood on the wooden terrace overlooking the lake and thought about all the minutes she’d spent the past week thinking of Gideon. Fascination was turning to obsession, she berated herself. And she couldn’t seem to help it.

  There was a burning sensation in the middle of her back. She moved her shoulders restlessly, but couldn’t shake it. Finally, she turned and knew Gideon had been staring at her. They didn’t speak for a moment. The look in his eyes told her he understood. Everything.

  “Want to go for a boat ride?”

  “I’d like that.”

  She followed him eagerly to the dock and allowed him to help her inside. He didn’t speak as he started the engine. He didn’t smile as he untied the ropes from the dock.

  With admirable skill, Gideon maneuvered the boat away from the dock. Rebecca lounged back against the cushioned bench and watched him. The sun glistened off his tanned skin making it shimmer like a golden statue. He’d pulled a baseball cap on and had tied his hair back into a stubby tail like he normally did. He’d talked about getting it cut one even
ing at dinner but Rebecca hoped he wouldn’t.

  Before he’d donned the cap, he looked very much like the pirate she had thought he resembled the first day she’d met him. He’d been working on a boat before she he’d come up on her at the boatyard. She’d searched him out intentionally because the anxiety she had tramped down so well in the days before had come back. She hadn’t wanted to bother him or disturb his work, so she settled for Critter’s cheerful companionship instead. Gideon must have sensed her turmoil because he’d come to her. The goons hadn’t made another move yet and so far nothing was turning up on Henry Jefferson.

  The island wasn’t big. There weren’t any places, except for the trees, where the goons could hide out. Zoey would sound the alert before they would come up on anyone and so far, they had been left alone.

  Rebecca wasn’t naive. She knew they had yet to see the last of them; and the waiting was killing her. Gideon had known. Now, with the sun shining down on them and the air clear and crisp, Rebecca could breathe again. Finally, Gideon cut the engine and let the boat rock against the waves. He sat down on the bench beside her and lounged back.

  With his eyes closed, Rebecca took this opportunity to just look at him. Most of his face was cast in shadows from the bill of his hat. He hadn’t kissed her since he’d told her it was her choice. She knew he was waiting for her to make the next move. She’d seen it in the way he would look at her, his eyes heavy and patient while they tried to read her. She wondered what it would be like between them but did she dare turn thought into action?

  Gideon wasn’t like any man she knew. He was intense and serious but she’d seen traces of humor and affection in him as well; for his family, certainly. He loved his family and wasn’t embarrassed to show it. He was protective over his mother and sister in small and big ways. She wondered again as she wondered several times the past week how it would feel to be a part of a family like theirs; to always know you’re loved and needed. Wanted.

  Gideon’s lips curved slightly and she had the feeling he knew she’d been staring. She didn’t care, really. He watched her all the time and she was becoming used to his quiet studies and bold stares. She even kind of liked it.

  “So what’s wrong?”

  The sound of his voice in the silence startled her. “Nothing, really.”

  “That’s why you came to find me looking like a lost puppy?”

  The analogy miffed her and she folded her arms. Lost puppy? “I was just bored.”

  His eyes opened. They were dark and narrowed, surrounded by heavy lids. She felt heat begin to curl in her stomach and willed the color to stay away from her face. She had the insane urge to just curl up beside him on the bench.

  “So it has nothing to do with the painting?”

  She sighed. She had already known before she went to find him that he would see through her. Why had she even tried? “I hate waiting.”

  “Waiting for what?”

  “For them to come for The Dance. I know they will.”

  He was quiet for a moment and she knew he was trying to decide whether to say something comforting or to be blunt. She hoped it was the latter. She already knew the truth and didn’t think she would appreciate a lie; even if it was made with good intentions.

  Without warning, his hand shot out and grabbed her arm. She muffled a squeak as he pulled her down to lean against him on the bench. She was cuddled up against him just as she had wanted to be. Instead of feeling warm and cozy, however; she felt stiff and awkward. He settled back into the cushions helping her into a more comfortable position and she forced herself to relax.

  His arms were strong around her and on its own accord, her memory triggered to the last time he had wound those arms around her. He’d kissed her into a trembling, senseless mess then, and she wondered if he would do so again.

  “They’ll come for it,” he confirmed. “But it doesn’t matter. We’ll be here and we’ll be waiting. I doubt they have any clue we know Henry Jefferson was a phony. They probably think we get no shows all the time and don’t think anything of it.”

  Rebecca nodded. She would have Jess look at the painting tonight, she decided. She needed to know exactly what she was dealing with so they could go from there. And she needed to tell Gideon more about her father and his crooked past. Unease filled her when she realized he didn’t know anything about her father. Would he look at her different if he knew she was the daughter of a professional con-man? Would the rest of his family? In this case, however; the apple fell far from the tree and rolled miles and miles away. In fact, it wasn’t even an apple, it was a pear. Completely different.

  “Gideon, I have some things I need to tell you.” She breathed in deeply when he stiffened beside her. “It’s nothing dire,” she hoped, “but it would probably help more than hurt.”

  “Go ahead.” His voice was wary but also curious.

  Rebecca thought for a moment about where to start. The unease turned quickly into dread, however and she knew she needed to wait. Courage deserted her and she could have wept. She was tired of feeling afraid and uncertain. She just wasn’t ready to lose Gideon yet, or his family.

  And that would surely be the outcome if she told him that she herself had painted The Dance. She was innocent, but would he see it that way? Would any of them?

  “Now that I think about it, I’d rather wait for your family to be there.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s a long story and I don’t want to tell it more than once.” And I just need a little more time with you—with your family.

  “All right. Tonight.”

  “Okay.”

  Silence ensued again except for the gentle lapping of the water against the boat. A bird would squawk every now and then. She thought Gideon may have fallen asleep. She wished she could turn everything off the way he seemed to do. But her thoughts continued to race causing her fingers to twitch and her toes to tap to the rhythm of the water thunking against the boat. She looked at him again and saw his lips curve.

  “Don’t you know how to relax?”

  “I guess I don’t.”

  “Close your eyes,” he ordered. “Block out everything except for the sounds. Turn your brain off and just pay attention to them.”

  She did, and again she heard the water lightly beating the side of the boat. She listened to it and heard the steady rhythm. It was a lazy sound that lulled her. A bird interrupted, breaking her concentration, but soon she could only hear the water. And Gideon breathing. She concentrated on his deep, even breaths. Surely he was asleep now, she thought. She could never be that relaxed and still be awake.

  She opened her eyes because she was sure she would fall asleep otherwise. She watched the clouds float, puffy white against brilliant blue. Gideon was warm at her side and his total relaxation calmed her.

  “That one looks like Zoey,” she murmured.

  “Yeah, with three legs.”

  She hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud. Hadn’t even realized she was making shapes out of the clouds. She’d done that a lot as a little girl, she remembered. She remembered seeing castles in the sky and wishing she could live in one. Embarrassment kept her silent.

  “That one looks like an ice cream cone.”

  Her eyes darted from cloud to cloud until she spotted the one that looked like an ice cream cone. She smiled. “What flavor?”

  Gideon shifted on the bench. “Strawberry.”

  “I like vanilla.”

  “Girl ice cream.”

  She laughed. “Maybe, but its good. Strawberry’s good, too.”

  They played the game for a while spotting shapes anywhere from food to people. Gideon insisted one of the puffy thunderheads looked identical to Colin. Rebecca laughed because when she had first seen it, she thought it looked like an elf.

  “That looks nothing like your brother.”

  “Sure it does. It has that big mouth and ears that stick out to far.” Gideon shrugged then grunted when Rebecca’s elbow jabbed him in the ri
bs.

  “Be nice.”

  “I thought I was.” His tone was dry and forced Rebecca to smile again. She liked this side of Gideon. She had wondered why he was so uptight when his brother was mellow but the more she was around him, the less intense he was. Extenuating circumstances, she thought with an inward smile. He had every right to his anger when his life had been turned upside down because of her. The thought caused the laughter to die out of her. She’d tried to avoid thinking like this, but she couldn’t manage it for long.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She nibbled on her bottom lip. “If I hadn’t jumped on your boat last week, what would you be doing right now?”

  He didn’t look angry, she mused. He contemplated his answer then shrugged. “Probably just about the same thing. Life’s slow on Avery.”

  “Slower when I’m not around to mess everything up.”

  “True,” he answered casually. She lowered her head and tried to squash the guilt. He only laughed. “A little speed doesn’t hurt anything, Rebecca. Stop feeling guilty.”

  “I can’t,” she breathed. “I wish I would have just run the other way.”

  “Something wrong with Avery?”

  His brisk tone snapped her out of her mood. That he would be so nice to her after all she’d done both soothed and baffled her. “No, I really like it.”

  “Good.” Gideon rose and reached into a cooler he’d brought along. He pulled out two cans of soda and handed Rebecca one. “Where’re your parents?”

  The question took her by surprise only because he hadn’t asked her any personal questions like that before. “Well, my mother’s on a cruise.”

  “And you’re father?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “He really left the painting with you and took off?” He sounded disbelieving.

  Rebecca stiffened against his tone but met his gaze without wavering. “Yes. I have no idea where he is, or if he’ll even be back.”

  “Sounds like a winner.”