by Robyn Neeley
He stood in the hall with Mr. Glazier as she changed into street clothes. He wasn’t sure what to say to him. It wasn’t as awkward as when he’d asked Catherine’s father for his daughter’s hand in marriage. If he tried that tonight, he suspected Mr. Glazier would laugh at the absurd formality. They kept to brief words of praise for the performance and the predicted snowfall for Sunday. When called back in the room, the Glaziers exchanged a knowing look. They asked him if Eloise could help carry the flowers out to their car before they drove home.
Alone in her dressing room, he pulled Penelope close, ignoring her protest of needing a shower. He didn’t mind. He craved her more than ever. He kissed her tenderly then with more passion as she melted against him. He tasted her need. Giving in would be pure pleasure, but he knew everyone would return in minutes. With reluctance he broke their kiss, but held her so close, he felt his erection growing against her. Resting his cheek against hers, he whispered in her ear. “You are amazing.” Her mouth found his neck, her lips soft, her tongue moist as she teased him. Loud footfalls carried in from the hallway. He pulled back. He had more to say. He looked into her eyes, dark with passion. “I love you.”
Chapter 12
Three little words. She must have heard them a dozen times tonight with no consequences whatsoever. None until spoken by the man who’d turned her world upside down.
To her surprise, she believed him. In his eyes, she read sincerity. His calm voice spoke those magic words with conviction. He hadn’t said them to be polite, nor were they passionate words hastily thrown out in the heat of the moment. She admired his courage. He hadn’t hid behind Eloise as he’d done in the past, diffusing his own feelings by projecting them onto her.
Only one thing made the moment bittersweet. She failed to return his sentiment. Not because of a lack of feeling, but because a rap on the door announced the arrival of an audience. She wanted the moment to be private, not in front of the crowd of family. She wanted him to know the strength of her love for him as a man, not just as a father.
• • •
By Sunday morning, the newspaper trumpeted the latest arrival on the local dance scene. She wished she could enjoy the triumph more. Carson loved her, but she missed the Orlando job opportunity and the trades showed no local auditions — only New York, Albuquerque, and Las Vegas. They were all so far away. She poured another cup of coffee and retreated to her childhood bedroom before her parents could waylay her.
Decisions, decisions. She stared at the maps, newspaper clippings, and audition announcements. She searched the web, travel websites, companies, real estate. Her fingers clutched the chain at her neck, her thumb and forefinger rubbing the fairy pendant as if it could provide all the answers. But there was no magic. At least, no magic wand and fairy godmother to make it possible for her keep her career and her man. He loved her, but she couldn’t ask him to wait. He would never understand. She eyed the red circled ad once again as she drained the coffee. She returned the mug to her nightstand, right beside her flight voucher.
She made the call. Her phone rang almost as soon as she hung up.
“Good morning, superstar.”
“So you saw the papers?”
“Eloise wants to put it on her wall.”
Why does this have to be so hard? Her heart wasn’t done with dance, or him, or Eloise. Like a band aid. Be quick. “I fly out tomorrow.”
Seconds stretched into an eternity. She waited for him to yell, be sarcastic, spit bile in her direction. Anything.
“Where?”
“Vegas.”
“Is it topless?”
“Some nights.”
“I don’t like it.”
“I don’t have the job yet. There’s no guarantees.”
“You’ll get it. You’re too good not to be hired somewhere. Come over tonight?”
This wasn’t the same man who rolled his eyes at fairy houses and blew a gasket over a bruise. It couldn’t be. But there was only one way to find out for sure. “Okay.”
• • •
She took the stage, breezing through the basic choreography of the first round. In the second round, she punctuated the high kicks in heels with a smile and a shimmy. She noticed the judges observing her carefully. She commanded their attention. The job was hers to lose.
Round three, three dancers left. She attacked the modern dance choreography, spine curving as she emoted agony seconds before flinging her head back in exultation. Passion coursed through her veins. They called her name. But instead of the pure triumph she expected, a pin pushed lightly on the skin of her bubble of happiness.
She retired to her hotel, cheap and off the Strip, to read the paperwork. The rehearsal and performance schedule, the weight restrictions, the health plan. I’m not done yet. She repeated her mantra but the words sounded empty. She had the job, dancing six shows a week, with Sunday and Monday off. She could catch a red-eye, be in Chicago before Sunday breakfast every week.
She glanced through the apartment rental guide she’d picked up on her way to her room. Each option looked less appealing than the last. The choreography, so stunning to watch performed, left her cold. The two weeks with Felix and the time teaching the girls reminded her of her passion for the unpredictable. She rubbed the fairy around her neck. It was too late to make calls tonight. She’d arrange for apartment hunting in the morning, only not in Las Vegas.
• • •
She couldn’t afford much, but her former New York roommates gave her back her share of the security deposit so at least she had a down payment. The Dance School guaranteed her one creative movement class. Her sister helped her find a few students interested in musical theater who wanted private lessons. She’d have plenty of time to hit auditions, if anyone was hiring.
She stared at the handsome male sitting across from her at the table. She wasn’t done yet, not with him anyway. Her heart had spoken. Less than a week after leaving town and leaving him, she was back. Eloise sat beside her at the breakfast restaurant. She wasn’t dancing yet either, but she couldn’t stay away from Carson and Eloise.
He offered to help her apartment hunt, arranging for Eloise to spend the day with Sue and Pappy. Pausing with her syrup slathered waffle poised halfway between her plate and her mouth, Eloise offered, “You should live at my house. We have two whole bedrooms that nobody uses. One of them even has a bed but sometimes Grandma and Grandpa sleep there. If you promise not to snore, you can sleep in my bed. It’s got pretty flowers on it.”
She thought Carson might choke on his coffee as his eyes grew wide with surprise. Swallowing a large gulp of freshly topped off hot coffee had to hurt. It was bad enough with the small burning sip she swallowed.
“That’s a lovely offer,” she stammered.
She ignored the piercing glare Sue Patterson gave them as she counted heads in the car. She was glad she couldn’t hear what words passed after Eloise entered the house. She hoped Carson would hurry back to the car. They had a lot to do today.
They barely backed out of the driveway before Penelope put her hand on his thigh. He gave her a knowing look that curled her toes. All the more reason for an apartment. Even if she couldn’t afford one, being virtually unemployed. “I thought I’d look for an apartment near your office.”
“Why?”
“You were right at Christmas. We have something wonderful together, but we don’t get much time alone and realistically, that may not change. I thought if I were close to your office, you could come over for lunch and … ”
His booming laugh filled the car. “So your main criteria is booty call proximity?”
She laughed at his unexpected use of slang and hoped it covered her embarrassment at being caught so easily.
“Thinking of which, we can be home in about five minutes.” He waggled his eyebrows and offered a wicked smile before turni
ng back to focus on the road.
She didn’t point out his slip of the tongue. She liked the way it sounded. Besides, his suggestion sounded a lot more fun than signing a twelve month lease.
Entering the house, he wasted no time helping her shed her clothes. In his haste, a button flew off her coat. He paused, watching it bounce across the tile floor.
“Sorry.”
She shrugged. “I need a new coat anyway. The wind cuts right through that one.”
“In that case, let me warm you up.”
With the look he gave her, the voices of self doubt stopped tormenting her.
He pulled off his leather gloves, cupping her face with his warm fingers. Heat filled her body in anticipation and he kissed her. His mouth greedily explored hers. Between his masculine scent and his delicious taste, she finally understood what it meant to swoon. Her hands tugged at his shirt, needing to feel his body, muscles tensing and throbbing with need as they had their one night together.
She pouted as he left her mouth until his hot breath and teasing tongue found a home on her neck. His hands roamed down her arms to her pants. He pressed his palm against her womanly place, already moist from his touch. She groaned and reached for his button fly jeans, wanting to liberate the bulge straining the fabric.
He clenched his teeth, pulling away even as she wanted more. “I’ll be right back. I’ve got to get something upstairs.”
“I’m coming with you.” His raised eyebrow gave them both the giggles as they raced to his bedroom, loosening clothes as they went.
They tumbled on the bed, naked in flesh and need. He covered her body in kisses, working toward that magic place between her legs. She arched her back, breath catching in her lungs as he teased her most intimate pleasure spot. Suddenly, the tension released. Her body quivered. For an instant, her mind, body, and spirit united, freed from gravity and other tethers. This was better than the sensation of flying she had in the harness. Much, much better. Because of the man she shared it with.
After recovering, she raised her head, meeting his amused gaze.
“Feeling warmer now?”
She sat up, pulling his head against her breasts, his hair soft against her skin. “I think I’m overheating. Get up here now.”
He complied and she rewarded him with hot steamy kisses of her own until he begged to be inside her. In the heat of the moment, she slowed down her rhythmic grinding atop his hard body. She looked into his eyes, darkened to the color of storm clouds, and touched his face tenderly, tracing his square jaw with her fingertip. She sensed when his body neared its release. Carefully and controlled, she told him the words she’d held back far too long. “I love you, Carson Langley. I always will.”
• • •
She counted the minutes until arriving at his house for their midweek dinner. All afternoon, she wanted to burst, to sing from the rooftops and generally exalt the world. Felix Hart secured financing for a new experimental dance troupe and he wanted her. Although there would be some travel, mostly to festivals, she’d be based here. She wasn’t sure what Carson would think about the type of dance, but she hoped he’d help her apartment hunt. For real this time.
Eloise opened the door before she could knock. As she removed her coat, Eloise bounced up and down.
“You have to see my project. Daddy and I have worked really hard and he says it’s ready. I hope you like it because I do!” She adored Eloise and her endless enthusiasm. It struck her how much Eloise had helped her regain her own passion for dance and life.
He met them in the foyer, waving a long skinny piece of dark fabric. She arched an eyebrow questioningly, but he retained an air of smug silence. Her news could wait, at least for a few minutes. He slipped behind her, his warm lips pressing against her cheek. He smelled pleasantly of aftershave, his face smoother than usual for this time of the evening. The effect was disconcerting, but not unpleasant.
He slipped the fabric over her eyes. If not for the presence of his daughter, she would have suspected him of having something kinky in mind. He already surprised her with the intensity of their lovemaking, so much better than she ever dreamed it could be.
“Come.” He and Eloise each took a hand and guided her to what had to be the garage, warning her of impending obstacles on the way.
They turned on the light, removed the blindfold, and shouted, “Surprise!”
She wasn’t sure what to think of the structure before her. It resembled a playhouse, but looked rather wobbly and lacked a true roof. Instead, an old floral blanket draped over the frame. The exposed boards painted with green, blue, pink, and purple resembled a flower garden, but with the addition of glitter. It was beautiful and gaudy, solid yet haphazard. She struggled to find words. “Wh — ”
Eloise shouted, “It’s a full size fairy house! Remember the little one we built? The fairies knocked it over. We rebuilt it but I asked Daddy if we could make an even better one. He said we can move it outside when the weather is warmer. Since you said fairies like things from outside, we are going to make a roof from leaves and chicken wire and maybe some plants. Now we just have a blanket. Go inside and look!”
He gave her a nudge and followed her inside. She saw him wink at Eloise before crossing the threshold. Suddenly, the blanket fell down, trapping them underneath a faded floral print. Eloise laughed.
Carson kneeled before her.
“Gotcha.” Eloise said from outside.
Penelope gasped as Carson held a small open velvet box. “Will you marry me?”
Eloise shouted, “It’s a fairy trap, too! See.”
He called to her, without moving his gaze from Penelope’s. “Did it work?”
“Yes.” Penelope sputtered, knowing there was only one answer for both questions.
“No, silly. I only caught you and Miss Penny.”
He stood, lifting her feet off the floor as he hugged her. She held him tight, happy to be caught in his arms forever.
Epilogue
Next Christmas
Carson braced himself as Eloise bounded on the couch beside him. Soon he’d clear away the discarded wrapping paper, but for now he enjoyed the chaos. He tousled her curls, pulling her in for a hug.
“So, princess, how did Santa do this year?”
She straightened up, an earnest expression on her face as she considered the question.
“Pretty good. I like the movie and the Littlest Pet Shop and the games. But he forgot to bring my brother or sister.”
His mind flashed back to last Christmas. He held his daughter close, pressing his cheek against her curls, trying not to squish her bow. He considered his words carefully, but before he could speak he heard an “oof.” He lifted his head in time to get clocked by a wad of wrapping paper as his wife ineffectively hid a giggle behind her delicate hand.
Penelope collapsed on the other side of Eloise and rubbed her round belly. Carson loved how she continued to show off her beautiful body with form fitting clothes.
“We’re all excited about the baby, but he or she won’t be here for a few more weeks,” he said.
“I know. I thought Santa might be able to make the baby come out sooner. I’m tired of waiting.”
“Me too.” Penelope looked tired, a bit paler than usual. It had been a long day.
She started lifting her feet to the coffee table, but he grabbed them, pulling them across Eloise and onto his lap. Her smile provided all the incentive he needed. He removed her slippers and started massaging her feet, taking delight in the joy on her face. He wouldn’t say it in front of Eloise, but if he hit the right spot, Penelope’s face momentarily displayed the same beautiful expression it did on the night she conceived and many other nights.
He turned to Eloise. “If the baby didn’t want to come out when Mom Penny did that dance recital a few weeks ago … ”
>
She nudged him playfully. “Hey. It wasn’t that intense.”
“You did the splits.”
“Any pregnant woman can do the splits because of the elastin. It’s getting up again that’s the problem. I had some help there.”
“Still, you frightened half the audience, including me.”
“I did warn you beforehand and both you and the doctor approved of my performing.”
“It was amazing. Felix will probably beg you to be in the same condition for the festival circuit sometime.” They held each other’s gaze until Eloise interrupted.
“When are we going to Grandma and Grandpa Glazier’s? I’m hungry for dinner.”
“Soon.” Penelope eased back as he continued to rub her feet.
Abruptly she sat up, a strange look on her face. “Who spilled something on the couch? It’s soaking wet back here.”
“Not me. I remember the rules. No drinks on the couch.” Eloise ran off like she wanted to escape any guilt by association.
He crossed to where she sat, extending his hands. “Try standing up.”
He examined the couch and her rounded body, noticing the dampness on her pants. He patted her leg and the bump concealing the product of their love.
“I’ll grab the bag and call the doctor.”
Recognition flashed across Penelope’s face. “Eloise, Santa didn’t forget after all.”
A Sneak Peek from Crimson Romance
Bells Will Be Ringing
Holiday Hoopla
Dana Volney
Avon, Massachusetts
This edition published by
Crimson Romance
an imprint of F+W Media, Inc.