by Merry Farmer
“He’s been trying to take over everything in town for years now,” Rita added.
“The Bonnevilles have been trying to take over Haskell since day one,” Sandy said in a dark murmur.
“What happens if the board votes you out as CEO next week?” Ward asked.
Wainright shrugged as all eyes turned to him. “I go into retirement. We continue to own the bank, but we would lose active control of its activities and policies.”
Sandy put down her fork, staring at her plate. The specter of losing the bank had hung over her since the dance competition began. Before that even. But it had never felt as real as it did in that moment. Likely because it was finally hitting home that they’d made a deal with someone who wasn’t above cheating to win.
“You’re not going to lose the bank,” Jogi said with an optimism that contrasted with the mood spreading around the table.
Wainright sent him a weary smile from the head of the table. “It’s nice of you to think so, son.”
A chill swept down Sandy’s back, not just for the consideration her father was showing Jogi, but because he’d called him “son”.
“I know so,” Jogi went on with even more confidence. “If the Bonneville family thinks they have to cheat and manipulate people to get what they want, then clearly they don’t have enough solid ground to have their way through legitimate means. And since you do—” He shrugged. “I think you stand a good chance of winning.” He turned to Sandy at the end of his small speech and smiled.
She smiled back, but her gut roiled with uncertainty.
“Why on earth didn’t you start dating this guy sooner?” Ward asked, sending Sandy a teasing grin.
Self-consciousness made Sandy’s already frazzled nerves fray harder. “That’s none of your business.” And she wouldn’t be able to explain the relationship’s false start without making herself look like an idiot.
Thankfully, Jogi kept his mouth shut and turned his attention to eating.
“You’ve bit off quite a mouthful with this young lady,” Wainright said with an impish smile.
“Dad,” Sandy sighed.
“She’s always been a handful,” her dad went on. “Ever since she was a girl.”
“Really?” Jogi glanced up at last, his grin growing by the second. “Sandy’s never talked about her childhood.”
“I’m sure I have,” she protested, heat flooding her face.
“You were the same as a kid as you are now,” Rita said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sandy was ready to debate her.
Rita laughed. “Calm down. I just meant that you always knew what you wanted and went after it, no matter who told you no or that you couldn’t do something.”
“That’s the truth,” Benita agreed. “You remember the time Mrs. Lindbergh, your fourth-grade teacher, told you girls couldn’t participate on the flag football team?”
Sandy still felt a twinge of defiance when she thought of that day. “I showed her,” she said with a flickering grin.
“You played football?” Jogi asked with a laugh.
“Only because they told me I couldn’t,” she answered.
“Or how about the time you auditioned for the part of Scrooge in the school’s Christmas play?” Ward joined in the reminiscing.
“I got the part too, didn’t I?” Sandy sat a little straighter.
“And let’s not forget that first time Ronny tried to ask you out,” Rita said, gesturing with her fork.
Sandy had to fight to maintain her smile. Not even Rita knew how things had gone down that night. Sandy had only been a sophomore in high school, barely old enough to know what went on between boys and girls. She sure had learned that night. Ronny had cornered her behind the gym during a soccer game and tried to stick his hand up her shirt. When she’d pushed him away, he’d informed her that that’s what girls were for. He’d told her to her face that her only purposes were to look good on her back with her legs spread, to pop out babies, and to keep a clean house. She’d punched him for that—something he’d never told anyone either, probably to save his pride. And while he swore to her that he’d get what he wanted from her someday, she’d also sworn that no man would ever make her feel like a parking place for his dick and his DNA. Ever.
“Actually,” she said aloud. “Let’s totally forget the first time Ronny asked me out. And every other time too.”
Rita humphed and stabbed at her pasta salad some more. Benita shook her head and made her disapproving sound. Wainright and Ward both looked like they wouldn’t mind going to find Ronny right that minute to wring his neck.
Jogi was the only one who kept his sly grin. “Good thing Ronny is going down on Friday,” he said.
In spite of all the frustration Ronny had always brought her, Sandy smiled. Then she laughed. “He is going down, isn’t he?”
“With my moves? You’d better believe it.”
Something warm spread through Sandy’s chest, cancelling out all of the annoyance and disgust Ronny had left her with.
“You going to be able to dance with your wrist like that?” Ward asked, nodding to the Ace bandage wrapped around Jogi’s hand and wrist.
“It’s healing nicely,” Jogi said. “I’ll be a hundred percent in no time.”
“That’s what I keep trying to tell these people,” Wainright added with a teasing grin. “But watch out, they tend to think anyone with any sort of bump or bruise is a complete invalid.”
Rita and Benita spoke over top of each other, each complaining that Wainright wasn’t taking his health seriously and reminding him he wasn’t out of the woods yet. Ward shook his head at them, a broad smile on his face. Sandy would have joined in with her mother and sister, but she was too distracted by how contagious Jogi’s optimism was. Why had she ever tried to push him into doing things the way she thought they should be done in the first place?
On second thought, she didn’t want to answer that question, not even internally. She had a bad feeling high school Ronny would be involved in the answer.
The conversation moved on as they finished dinner, but the weight of all the questions bearing down on Sandy didn’t let up. She helped her mom clean up in the kitchen while Rita and the guys started up a conversation about photographic techniques and gadgets on the patio. That was as close as she was going to get to a reprieve from thinking about things, and it wasn’t much of a reprieve at that.
“I like him,” Benita said as they loaded the dishwasher.
“Who, Jogi?” Sandy asked.
Her mom gave her a knowing smile. “Who else did you think I meant?
She had to give her mom that much. An uncertain smile spread across her face. “I think I like him too.”
“You think?” Her mom raised one eyebrow.
Sandy shrugged while her mom fit the last of the glasses into the dishwasher’s top rack. “Mom, did you ever imagine me settling down, like some TV mom, with a husband and kids?”
Benita laughed. “No.”
Sandy couldn’t decide if that was reassuring or worrying. “Why not?”
“Because you’re not the type,” Benita answered without hesitation.
“Then why did I go and get caught up in a relationship?” she sighed, blinking up at the ceiling.
“Because the right man came along at the right time.” Once again, Benita answered without hesitation. Sandy glanced to her in surprise. Benita went on, straightening and crossing her arms. “Why do you think you got involved with Jogi?”
The question was the last thing Sandy expected. Mostly because it was something she’d never asked herself. She could easily give her mom a pat answer, but something deep within her wanted to hear the answer as much as Benita did.
“I dunno,” she started, leaning her hip against the kitchen counter. “Jogi is sweet and funny and talented.” He was sexy as hell too and amazing in bed, but she wasn’t going to tell her mom that. She tilted her head to the side. “He never made me feel like I was some sort of ex
otic prize to brag to his buddies about.”
“Something tells me he knows how it feels to be exotic in Haskell, Wyoming.”
Sandy hummed in agreement. Then she shuddered. “I don’t want to think that I like him for the same reason that I always got singled out.”
Her mom let out a gentle laugh and rubbed Sandy’s arm. “Then stick to the first part, how he makes you feel. Or doesn’t.”
“He makes me feel….” She couldn’t think of the right words to express her emotions, no matter how hard she searched her vocabulary. Until the obvious hit her right between the eyes. She smiled. “He makes me feel like myself.”
“There you go.” Her mom grinned, then leaned in to give her a hug. “And between you and me, with all the ways a man can make us feel, that’s all that really counts.”
Her mother’s words stuck with her as they finished clean-up and when Jogi offered to walk her home. For whatever stupid reason—a reason that probably involved Ronny and all her high school experiences—she’d never stopped to consider that having a man in her life could make her more who she was instead of less. It was a nice realization to have.
“You turned a little pensive at the end of dinner there,” Jogi said, reaching for her hand, as they walked the short distance from the Templesmith house to his apartment in the twilight.
“Oh, it was nothing.” She waved her free hand. “Just questioning my motivations with men for the last ten or fifteen years of my life.”
“Is that all?” Jogi laughed.
“Yeah, that’s it.” She grinned at him. The fact that he smiled back at her without trying to dig deeper or make a case out of everything she said sent warmth spiraling through her. Maybe the right guy had come along at the right time.
After a short pause, Jogi went on with, “You realize that after what you said back there, I want to beat Ronny in the dance competition—and everywhere else—more than ever.”
“Absolutely,” she said. “And you don’t even know the half of it.”
“I can probably guess the half of it,” he laughed. The fact that he did laugh instead of grilling her or demanding to know more set her at ease.
“Are you ready to find out what the dances will be for the final tomorrow night?” she asked.
“Absolutely. Maybe we should take another day off for practice too.”
She grinned at him, heat infusing her. “We didn’t spend much time practicing that day.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” When she arched a brow at him, he continued with, “They say that dancing is all in the hips, after all.”
She laughed loud enough to snag the attention of a Haskellian walking on the other side of the street. “We didn’t exactly use our hips either.”
“Well, maybe we could remedy that tonight.” The suggestive spark in his eyes was an instant turn-on.
Funny how one guy could get her blood pumping with a suggestive comment while another could make it run cold. Then again, maybe it wasn’t surprising at all.
“I think a little extra, nocturnal practice might be just the ticket,” she said, swaying closer to him as they walked. “A little birdie told me that one of the final dances is going to be the tango.”
“The tango? Really?” Jogi’s face lit up. “We can definitely get in some practice for that one tonight.”
She laughed. It felt good to joke with him, especially since that joking would end up in a horizontal position in no time. She squeezed his hand, leaning her head towards him and kissing his cheek as they walked.
“Have I told you how glad I am that fate paired us together again?” she asked.
Jogi laughed. “It wasn’t fate, it was Quintus Haskell.”
She giggled. “Remind me to send him a big old fruit basket or something.”
“He deserves more than that.”
“Okay, Fruit of the Month Club, then.”
“That’s more like it.”
They reached the door to Jogi’s apartment and paused. Jogi took out his keys and unlocked the door. “You coming up?” he asked, a far more interesting invitation in his eyes.
Sandy grinned. “Of course I am.”
Chapter Seventeen
“Okay, what are we going to do?” Jogi asked as he and Sandy stood outside the door to the high school gym, dressed to the nines in 1940s era costumes.
Sandy took a deep breath, pressing a hand over her stomach. “We’re going to go out there and kick Ronny’s ass.”
Jogi grinned. Nothing was sexier than Sandy on a mission, as long as that mission wasn’t to get him to do something he didn’t want to do. “And how are we going to do it?” he asked on, taking her hands so that she would stop fidgeting.
“We’re going to Lindy Hop the living daylights out of them,” she answered with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.
“And what specifically are you going to do to ensure that happens?” He arched one eyebrow.
Sandy lost her intensity. She shifted her weight to one hip. “Dance?” Her tone was sassy, but she clearly hadn’t followed the line of his teasing.
“You’re going to let me lead, right?” he filled her in.
Her sassy look grew even more pronounced. “Yes, mister know-it-all dance leader. I am going to let you lead. On the dance floor.”
“Good.” Jogi winked and let go of one of her hands, turning to face the other two waiting couples.
Not that he really saw them. Whether he was looking at her or not, his full attention was on Sandy, on the way she had let him get away with taking the lead not only on the dance floor, but in their competition strategy as well. It was miles away from the heavy hand she’d used in entering his photo in the National Parks Service competition. It was also miles away from the control she’d clung to the first time they tried to be together. She’d changed. He’d probably changed too. And it was kind of awesome.
“Get ready to lose, Apu,” Ronny snapped as soon as he caught Jogi staring at him.
Jogi wasn’t trying to stare or even to look in Ronny’s direction, but now that the gauntlet had been thrown down, he might as well rise to the challenge. “How do you plan to cheat tonight, daddy’s boy?”
Ronny’s face pinched into a peevish scowl. “I wasn’t cheating. It was an honest accident.”
Natalie snorted at Ronny’s side, rolling her eyes. It was little consolation that not even Ronny’s partner believed the lie, especially since the judges had bought it hook, line, and sinker.
“Right.” Jogi turned away from Ronny, giving all of his attention to Sandy.
But Sandy stood her ground, staring at Ronny with arms crossed. She wore a look of deep loathing, but it was mingled with a new sort of resistance, something beyond simple pride. It had Jogi’s blood pumping hard in no time.
“You’re lower than slime, Ronny,” she said, but without the fierce emotion Jogi would have expected. It was almost as if she didn’t give a crap what Ronny Bonneville said or thought. “You’re not worth a scrap of my time, and I’m done giving you free rent.”
Ronny frowned in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Sandy didn’t answer, but Jogi had a feeling he knew exactly what she meant. He’d heard the concept of letting someone overtake your thoughts and mess with your mind as giving them free rent in your head before. It gave him pause. It also reminded him of the way Sandy had looked at dinner when the story of her rebuffing Ronny in high school came up. He could only grasp at straws to come to a conclusion, but he had a feeling whatever had happened then had affected Sandy far more than she had let on.
Which only made him want to kick Ronny’s ass more.
“That’s our cue,” Jonathan said from the gym door. “Here we go.”
He opened the door, clearing the way for the final three couples to march out onto the dance floor.
“Too bad your wrist won’t let you do the cool lifts.” Ronny got in one final shot before heading into the gym. “The judges give high marks for those things.”
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Jogi didn’t have time to respond, as much as he wanted to. He took Sandy’s hand as they made up the rear of the procession into the gym. He could feel his anger burning just under the surface, though.
At least until Sandy said, “Ignore him.” Her chin was held high and she burst into a gorgeous smile, waving to the audience who was cheering the arrival of the finalists. “He’s not worth the distraction,” she went on. “Let’s just dance.”
“You got it, babe,” he answered, smiling and waving himself.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Howie announced as the three couples took their places on the dance floor. “Your finalists!”
The applause was wild. Jogi went from taking it all super seriously to laughing and shaking his head at the absurdity of it all. Howie sure did know how to whip Haskell into a frenzy, and the citizens of Haskell loved every second of it. No wonder he kept planning mixer event after mixer event.
“The first dance of the night,” Howie went on as the couples each took their places, spread out with plenty of room to themselves, “is the Lindy Hop. This form of swing dancing can get a little wild, so hang onto your hats!”
The crowd cheered, the music started playing, and the whole world narrowed down to Jogi, Sandy, and the steps they’d practically killed themselves staying up late and getting up early to perfect.
Luckily, the Lindy was fun. Jogi had picked it up fairly easily, and fortunately, Sandy had as well. They bounced and twisted their way through the steps, forgetting everything else but the thrill of having fun together. And yes, the quick, twirling, energetic moves were hard on his wrist, but he wasn’t going to let a little pain bother him. His wrist was wrapped tight, and if he had to suffer through a week or two of wrenching pain after the fact in order to win the contest, he would.
A cry of delight rose from the audience as the dance neared its end. Jogi couldn’t see what had them so worked up, but he had a bad feeling Ronny had made good on his threat to throw a lift into his and Natalie’s performance. It grated on his nerves that Ronny might actually win the competition fair and square.