The Romance Dance: Castle Ridge Small Town Romance

by Burton, Allie

  His eyes widened and he yanked away. “Are you sure your ankle’s strong enough?”

  He wasn’t concerned about her ankle. She could see it on his panicked face. Resembling a first-time solo performer in the spotlight, he was afraid.

  This time, she believed he was afraid of her.

  “My ankle is fine. It’s wrapped for stability.” She got the remote for the stereo and clicked it on. A slow, romantic song filled the room. “Are you afraid to dance?”

  With me? She wanted to add.

  “No.” He didn’t stand.

  Rejection darkened her mood. Had she been wrong about the mutual attraction? “You’ll be great.” She stuck her hand out farther and used the sympathy card. “And you’ll be helping me so much.”

  Grumbling, he stood. “I’m going to look like a fool.”

  She ignored him. Taking his hand, she pulled him to a position in front of her. “We’re going to do the waltz.”

  “Sounds complicated.” His voice rumbled with reluctance which she found endearing.

  “You danced it before with me. We need to show the audience what we can do. What you can do.”

  “No, what you can do teaching.” His confidence made it seem as if he was already proud of her.

  His confidence boosted hers. She knew she could teach dancing, she’d mentored some of the younger ballerinas in the past. Now, she only had to get the students. “Put your other hand here.” She moved his hand around her waist, placing his flat palm on her lower back. Her skin steamed.

  “Like this?” His voice held a slight quiver.

  She hid a smile. He was nervous. So was she.

  Her nerves tapped in her midsection in a rat-a-tat-tat. Why? She’d danced with many partners. Professionally and socially. She’d taught others to dance when at a club or a party. With Reed, her hand shook, laying it on his shoulder blade. She felt the tenseness of his muscles beneath her palm. Compassion combined with determination, creating a wavering wall. He’d allowed himself to be vulnerable for her, and she wouldn’t take advantage. She’d help him. She’d make him a good dancer.

  They took a step. Together. Seamlessly.

  As if they’d danced a lifetime together. Or danced together in another life.

  Her frame fit perfectly with his tall body. As if they were made for each other. Their eyes met at the same level, their gazes connecting. As if they recognized each other’s souls.

  They floated across the dance floor. Staring into his deep-green orbs, her feet didn’t touch the ground. She didn’t count out the beat, they moved in unison to the tempo. He didn’t need words or instructions. Their bodies communicated on a direct level.

  A buzzing interrupted the music.

  Disappointment trembled to her toes. “Sorry. It’s a text.” Releasing his muscular shoulder, she glanced at her phone.

  “Anything important?”

  “It’s Dax.” She sighed at the interruption. They’d attended a business reception last night, and he’d been great to have along to break the ice. He’d left the event early, and she hadn’t gotten the opportunity to tell him they could only be friends.

  “Then, very important.” Reed dropped his hands from her body and stepped away, leaving her cold.

  * * *

  Reed yanked his hands off Quinn’s body—the woman his brother was dating. What the hell was he thinking? They’d gone out together last night, according to his sister. Disgust curled in his stomach. He wouldn’t date a woman after his brother had slept with her. Although Dax hadn’t spent the night last night. Reed had been watching the driveway, and she’d walked home alone.

  “What does he want?” He couldn’t control the gruff quality of his voice, hating they’d been interrupted.

  “Dax is going out of town for a few days.” Her straightforwardness didn’t sound sad or disappointed.

  Was she not into his brother? She’d been upset about the skiing incident, and Reed had been surprised when she’d agreed to go out with him again. “Did you have another date scheduled after last night’s?”

  “Last night wasn’t a date.” Her you’re-being-silly tone teased. “I took him with me to the Main Street Business Association dinner. Why aren’t you a member?”

  Relief released the pressure. It hadn’t been a date. And yet, he’d typed the text asking her out. He hadn’t seen the reply. Had Dax lied about the response? Or was Quinn lying now?

  “I’m not a Main Street retailer.” Maybe he should join for the good of his career, and to see Quinn in a business setting.

  “You should join. It’s a great group, with lots of activities for retailers and the good of the community.”

  Reed didn’t want a sales pitch about the organization right now. He was more concerned about what was going on with her and his brother. “I didn’t know Dax was going out of town. Where’s he going?” Concern threaded through Reed. For his brother and for Quinn. Dax had been taking multiple short, secret trips lately, and he didn’t want his family to know.

  “He didn’t say. The message was short.” Her voice pitched higher, clearly puzzled. “Which is weird.”

  “What do you mean?” Was something wrong with Dax?

  “I told you, he acts like two different people.” She stretched on her tiptoes, considering the situation. “I only agreed to go out with him, because one night he came to my window and spoke so eloquently.”

  The blood in Reed’s veins pumped hard and then wavered. “Oh.”

  His words.

  She liked his words. His brother had told him, and yet getting confirmation from Quinn was an aria to his soul. Maybe, just maybe she would’ve dated him. But how could he date a woman who’d slept with his brother?

  Quinn tapped her cellphone on her chin. “When we went skiing, Dax was callous.”

  Reed refused to bad-mouth his brother. “He hates hospitals.”

  Shaking her head, she smirked. “Sometimes his texts are a song.”

  Uh-oh. His pulse drummed in tune with the song he was composing. Would she recognize his voice in the texts?

  “Other times, he’s curt and almost insensitive.” Her confusion stabbed at Reed.

  What he and his brother were doing was wrong. Standing on a precipice, he stared into a dark and unknown depth, feeling as if he were about to jump, or get pushed. He and his brother were tricking Quinn, and when she found out she’d hate them both.

  Chapter Eleven

  Nerves tightened inside Quinn similar to before a major ballet performance. Not that she was putting on a show. She would be herself, no airs or pretenses. These people would like her for who she was, and hopefully be enthusiastic about her dance studio.

  Reed’s easygoing presence projected calm. They were at Danielle’s house for a normal Sunday dinner. People did this all the time. Just not Quinn. For years, Sunday meant a matinée performance, with rehearsal before and practice after.

  The inviting home they’d entered had been welcoming. So had the people. Danielle and her daughter Brianna had greeted her with enthusiasm, and Izzy had given a hug. A real hug. Not air kisses and flattery, which was what Quinn had experienced in New York. Her eyes stung at the Norman Rockwell moment.

  Moments she’d had as a child with her grandparents. This was normal and natural. Not the backstabbing ballet world, where socializing turned into a game of one-upmanship.

  The central room was furnished with comfy chairs and couches with colorful pillows and lots of framed photos. The décor reminded her of her grandparents’ house, only on a smaller scale. A foreign concept to the apartments she’d visited while living in the city, which were sparsely and expensively furnished.

  The short spike of jealousy watching Danielle greet Reed ended as quickly as the brotherly hug. He’d said she and Brianna were family. There’d been a lot of laughter and catching up between friends. Relaxing, Quinn had sat back and watched. She’d never had such close friends. Everyone was dressed casually, comfortably. Not dressing to impress.

>   A home-cooked meal of baked chicken and flavored rice set on the table. The food was served family-style, with everyone passing the dishes and helping themselves. The glass plates weren’t the finest China.

  “Tell us about yourself, Quinn.” Their host asked, once everyone was seated at a large farmhouse table.

  Under the table Quinn stretched her toes in the leather boots she’d purchased, trying to decide where to start and how much they really wanted to hear. She didn’t want to bore them with details. “I used to be a ballet dancer in the New York.”

  “Did you and Uncle Reed meet in New York? Does the ballet dance with the symphony?” The question from the teen had her glancing from one to the other.

  “Symphony?” Confusion knotted in her mind.

  “The symphony and ballet are two completely different entities, Bri-Bird.” Reed’s chin tucked in trying to hide from the questions. “Quinn is offering free dance classes to students for the next two weeks to try out. Wouldn’t you enjoy learning ballet, Brianna?”

  His quick change of topic and re-directed question putting the teen in the spotlight was an aversion tactic. Could he have been involved with the symphony in New York? Quinn wanted to challenge him and make him explain. That would have to wait. She needed to focus on her studio, and getting the teen and her friends as students.

  The girl’s face soured. Her lips twisted together, and she kept her mouth shut. A miniature version of her mother, except with reddish hair and green eyes.

  Quinn’s stomach flipped and she rushed to convince. “No commitment.” She tilted forward and hoped she didn’t sound like she was begging. “Drop in and take a class. Invite your friends. It will be fun, I promise.”

  “I’m a skier.” The teen slashed with her fork emphasizing her derision.

  “You should give ballet a try.” Danielle nodded with enthusiasm. She wanted her daughter to try dancing.

  Which gave Quinn hope. Taking a sip of water, she thought of the best way to convince an athlete. “Ballet is great for your muscles. The stretching warmups will benefit your flexibility, which will help your skiing.”

  “My friends would make fun of me.” The teen’s angsty tone filled with disbelief. She set her fork down against her almost-empty glass plate.

  “You won’t make a fool of yourself.” Her mother tried to convince. “I bet your friends would enjoy the class, too.”

  Quinn finished a bite, chewing on words that might convince. “Anyone can dance.”

  “Even me.” Reed’s quiet voice carried weight.

  Thankfulness spread inside, warming every inch of her skin. She’d already used him as an example in other situations, and didn’t want to do it again. She was happy he’d spoken up, happy he was becoming comfortable with the idea.

  “You’re dancing?” Izzy’s high tone expressed her surprise.

  Quinn had hoped his sister would be on her side.

  “Good for you.” Danielle was behind getting him in the spotlight. “After everything you’ve been through, it’s good to see you’re doing fun things again.”

  What had he been through besides the accident? More questions circled around in Quinn’s head, making her dizzy. She thought she was getting to know Reed, but she’d only skimmed the surface. The prospect of learning more excited.

  “He’s writing music again.” Izzy shot a sly glance at her brother and at Quinn.

  Her head spun with more questions. He wrote music? For the symphony?

  His shoulders tipped in and his expression blanked. He had a secret he didn’t want known.

  She wanted to help him get out of the inquisition from his sister. She also wanted to learn more about this enigmatic man. “He’s a remarkable piano player.”

  “You’re playing piano again, too?” Danielle’s cheering-him-on smile struck an envious shimmy in Quinn. This other woman, who wasn’t related, knew so much about him. “Are you going to leave Castle Ridge and return to the symphony?”

  “What symphony?” Her confusion swirled and twirled, and the question came out as a demand.

  His brows gathered in a dark thundercloud. His frown forced his defiant chin out. He shoved a forkful of rice into his mouth.

  “Quinn doesn’t know about your previous career?” Danielle pushed.

  He placed his fisted hand on the table. “Did I tell you I ran into Luke Logan the other day?”

  Izzy and her best friend froze. Both of the women’s eyes went wide, and they caught each other’s gazes. Their mouths dropped into perfect Os of surprise. Danielle’s reaction was stronger. Her face paled and her body wavered. She sighted her daughter, taking a long, slow glance. A protective glance.

  The awkward sudden silence caused Quinn to tense. There was more history here than she understood.

  “Who’s Luke Logan?” Brianna took a swallow of milk. Her innocent expression was in exact contrast to her mother’s.

  “An old high school friend of mine.” Reed’s chagrined smile showed he’d meant to cause a disruption to the conversation, and yet felt bad about it. Tossing the napkin on the table, he stood. “I’ll clear the plates. Will you help, Brianna?”

  The two of them gathered plates and silverware and took them to the kitchen around a counter with open shutters on top. He tweaked the teen’s nose and she giggled. He was good with kids.

  Quinn could picture him with children of his own. Hugging them, helping with homework, teaching them to play piano. A bright sunniness shone inside her. She could imagine her being at his side.

  Izzy scooted her chair over and whispered, “Reed was the most incredible pianist at the New York Symphony.”

  Like a break-dance move, the entire universe shifted for Quinn. The questions in her head stopped spinning and everything clarified. She was an idiot. An angry idiot. No wonder he played with such passion. “I can’t believe it.”

  Danielle scooted to Quinn’s other side, taking part in their secret pow-wow. “He was such a marvelous player, even in high school.”

  She’d never had a posse of girls to hang out with. In ballet school, everyone was a competitor, and no one trusted anyone. The immediate camaraderie with these two women warmed.

  “Still is great.” Izzy glared at her brother. “He was playing piano in your dance studio the other night.”

  All the times he’d played in secret made more sense to Quinn now. “Why didn’t he want me to know?” Her voice came out higher than expected because she was more hurt than expected. For some reason he didn’t want to share his past with her.

  His sister grazed her arm. “I hope it’s okay he played your piano.”

  “Of course.” Had she appeared shocked and Izzy had taken it to mean she didn’t want him playing her piano? Quinn loved hearing him play.

  Running water and laughter came from the kitchen. Their boisterousness contrasted with the quietness at the table.

  “Reed received lots of accolades. He wrote music and lyrics for Broadway while playing for the symphony. He took on way more than he should have.” Izzy’s tone showed concern and pride.

  “And then he was in the car accident.” Danielle ended on a sorrowful note.

  “He told me about the accident.” Quinn cared about him. More than cared. A decisiveness settled in her. She liked him, was attracted to him, and wanted to see what developed between them.

  “He did?” Both women chimed.

  He must not share much about himself with anyone. A lightness shined a spotlight on her decision. He’d confided in her. That must mean something.

  “A limp shouldn’t stop him from playing and composing.” His music played in her head. “Which did he enjoy more?”

  “I’m not sure.” His sister’s slow nod displayed her own sadness and sympathy. “Recovery took months. He didn’t practice, and the symphony needed someone, so they filled his position with the stipulation when he was ready he could come back.”

  The image of him lying in agony in a hospital bed and struggling with physical ther
apy tormented her. No wonder he’d kicked the piano.

  “He swore he’d never go back.” Izzy’s lips flattened into a grimace. “He left New York to recuperate here, and started buying buildings and remodeling things.”

  “He helped spruce up my house. Being in college and working, I didn’t have the time or the money to do it after my dad died.” Danielle’s voice went soft. She scanned the cozy great room. “Reed helped make it a real home for Brianna and me.”

  The dining area had the same tiled floors as the kitchen, with a painted wood counter. The older-styled cabinets had fresh paint brightening the room. This area led to a family room with thick carpet. And Reed had helped create this wonderful home.

  If Quinn got together with him, how would their home take shape?

  “He’s remodeling a home for himself to live in, too.” Izzy’s tone held a wink-wink, knowing Quinn would be interested in this information.

  Her wide-eyed gaze traveled the room, thinking about how he could make any place a home. He’d certainly made her comfortable in the dance studio and the tiny apartment above. The man was amazing. His talents were many. How did his new house look? Her sunny mood dampened. Once the studio was open and he moved to his house, how often would she see him?

  “Where did he learn the skills?” Because he’d done a fabulous job in her studio, too.

  “He did construction work in college to pay tuition and he loved working with his hands.” His sister bragged on him. “Plus, the physical work of construction helped build his muscles after staying so long in the hospital.”

  He’d had such a prestigious musical career. The New York Symphony had agreed to give him back his position when he was ready, and yet his construction resume showed he’d been developing and remodeling buildings for over three years. Physically fit, so why not return?

  Unless she had the timeline wrong. “If his only lingering issue is his limp, why doesn’t he return to the symphony?”

  Izzy gave her a strange expression. “He hasn’t played the piano in years, until recently.”

  “Very recently,” Danielle added.

  The two women were able to communicate without words. Quinn couldn’t help the thread of jealousy spinning through her. She’d never had close friends. She yearned for it. She yearned even more to find out about Reed.