by Unknown
Her shoulders heaved in another attempt to keep from laughing out loud. “Absolutely. I forgot this isn’t the circus,” she teased. Mel immediately straightened, closing the gap.
As the music swelled, and she internally prepared for what she was sure was going to be a natural spin turn, tears slipped down her cheeks, blurring her vision and almost tripping her.
Drew’s upper torso tensed, and he forgot to look over her appropriate shoulder, making following him an exercise in trust, but his effort was all that mattered to Mel.
Nothing else mattered but this moment.
The music stopped before Drew did, though he clearly needed to 9780425245507_WaltzThisWay_TX_p1-344.indd 327
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end this with a waltz pose if it was the last thing he did by the way he forced her body to bend to his will.
Their bodies warred momentarily, Mel’s frame fi ghting for the proper, instinctual position. Drew’s making a hasty decision then correcting himself in the middle of everything.
Mel ended up sort of draped across his arm, but not quite. She clung to him when he gazed down at the awkward line her body was in and winced. “I forgot when to stop. Damn, that’s been driving me insane.”
It was all Mel could do not to throw her arms around him and lavish him with the swell of love she felt for him at this very second.
This was about Drew now. It was about him choosing to understand something she needed to breathe. Something he’d never quite understand but had so clearly gone to extreme lengths to try.
Was there really anything else a woman could ask of the man she’d fallen so desperately in love with?
Sweat glistened on his forehead as she hung there and waited until he was ready to speak. “I clearly suck at this dancing thing.”
She cocked her head, forcing herself to bite back more giggling.
“ ‘Suck’ is so harsh, Drew.”
“But so true.”
She tipped her head and winced. “There are levels to suckage.”
“Of which I’ve scaled.”
She couldn’t take it anymore. She caved in a fi t of laughter, snorting and snickering. He did suck. Period. But he sucked in a way that made sucking seem like the most romantic gesture in the world.
Drew hauled her upward, lifting her off her feet and forcing her to wrap her arms around his broad shoulders. Her neck arched backward, capturing his gaze so deep, so intense.
“You want answers, right?”
“Only when you’re ready.”
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“Stan taught me how to waltz. Stan, Neil, and Nate.”
Her eyes widened in shock even as her heart thrummed. “Stan?
You’re kidding me.”
“Would I joke about letting your ex pretend to be you while he threw me around a dance fl oor and snapped words at me in a language I’d need the Rosetta Stone to understand?”
Mel’s giggle squeaked when she summoned up an image of that in her head. “Stan can be a hard taskmaster. So wanna tell me why?
Why would you do this? Why would Stan help?”
“He said he owed you, and after he explained what happened, I thought he was right. He stepped in and saved Myriam’s hip and her toes. Never thought I’d say it, but he’s an okay guy, your ex-husband.
So is Neil.”
Mel’s nod was fond without a trace of bitterness. “Yeah. Yeah, he is. So you know everything?”
Drew nodded his consent. “I know. I saw the Nora Phillips show, and after I said what I said to you, it made everything that much shittier. Stan told me all about Neil and … what happened before you married Stan.”
Mel smiled up at him, her heart fl uttering in her chest. “I didn’t know it, but when I saw Stan again a few days ago and we talked, it was like this huge weight had been lifted. I hated thinking I’d been married to someone so callous because there was good in our marriage and it turned it all so ugly. Turns out, I was just married to someone who was too afraid to be who he really was.”
“It’s a pretty grim way to live.”
“Did he also tell you what happened with his manager, Jerry?”
Drew brushed a strand of her hair from her face with tender fi ngers. “Over pumpkin pie and coffee. Myriam invited him back to the house, but not before she gave him a ration of shit for hurting you he’ll probably never forget, after we practiced this waltz thing for the 9780425245507_WaltzThisWay_TX_p1-344.indd 329
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hundredth time. I think I could do it a million times and never get it right. He told us everything. Yelena, Neil, everything.”
Mel bit her lower lip. “Did he also tell you I’m very rich? Because you can drop me right here if we’re going to fi ght over money again, Drew McPhee.”
Drew pressed his nose to hers. “He told me, and I’m an ass.”
“Baby got back kind of ass,” Mel agreed on a hopeful giggle.
His smile was warm— the smile she’d hoped to see just one more time every night when she’d closed her eyes this past week. “I was wrong.”
“You were way beyond wrong.”
“I said some shitty things, Mel.”
“The shittiest.”
“But the things I said weren’t the real issue.”
“Is this going to be the ‘something more’ thing I’ve been trying to fi gure out?” she asked.
“The what?”
Mel shook her head with a wry grin. “Forget it. Just tell me what the real issue is.”
“Nate set me straight.”
Her surprise was genuine. “Nate?”
“Yeah. He used big words like ‘transference’ and ‘ post- traumatic stress disorder’—or something. What it boils down to is I couldn’t trust you to love me as much as you love to dance.”
Hmm. “Couldn’t?”
She sensed the struggle in Drew to fi nd the proper words and express them without sacrifi cing his manhood, and it made her tingle from head to toe. “Fine. I was afraid to trust you, and I took it out on you because of my marriage to Sherry and the fact that she chose her passion for her career, and eventually her drinking, over us. It was unfair and unjustifi ed, and I used the money thing as a cover for the 9780425245507_WaltzThisWay_TX_p1-344.indd 330
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real issue at hand, which was you potentially putting your career before Nate and me. I said those things to you to keep you from fi nding out what an ass I was being.”
Ahh. So that was the “something else.” “So the real truth is you felt threatened by my career possibly turning into something much bigger than just being Ms. Cherkasov from nine to fi ve?”
His eyes hardened, but only for a moment before he winced. “It consumed Sherry once …”
“But my name is Mel,” she whispered. “And here’s something to think about. I’d never make you choose between me and a piece of wood.”
“But my love for making things isn’t going to take me away from my family or put me on TV across the country.”
Mel smiled sympathetically. “I get it, and I can see it took a lot out of you to admit your feelings, oh ye of the demand for communication,” she taunted with a teasing grin.
Drew’s laugh was husky. “You have no idea. This past week has been like one long therapy session of discovery.”
“No kidding,” she acknowledged with a
coy smile. “So wanna tell me what this is all about, Mr. McPhee? The dancing— this studio?
Whose is it?”
His lips came to rest on her cheek when he whispered, “I wanted to prove to you that I get this dancing thing. Not on the level you do, obviously. You once said dancing freed you to express emotions you didn’t even know existed. I don’t feel free when I dance. I feel like an idiot with really big feet. But I get why it’s more than just a job to you.”
Warmth fl ooded her and made her fi ngers tighten on him. “Really?”
“Honestly?”
“Please.”
“No,” he said on a laugh. “I don’t understand it at all, but it makes 9780425245507_WaltzThisWay_TX_p1-344.indd 331
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you happy, and that’s really all that matters to me. Plus, if I’m honest, when you do that stretchy thing to warm up, it’s pretty hot.”
Mel’s heart tightened and released as she clung to his neck and lifted her lips for a kiss she’d missed more than any words could express. “So where are we?” She craned her neck to take a peek around.
He set her down and took her hand to walk her toward what would eventually be a door. Drew pointed to the wall. On the bare sheetrock hung a sign that read “Ms. Mel’s Offi ce.”
Mel gasped when she read it, but remained speechless, still confused.
Drew pulled her to him, molding her body to his in a gesture that was possessive. “Stan. He bought this for you, to make up for losing your studio in L. A. Nate and I and my brothers-in-law have been here all week trying to get the fl oor and mirrors in on time to surprise you. Add in my dance lessons, and we’ve been busy.”
“Stan bought this?” she squeaked.
Drew’s head bobbed. “He did. There was no talking him out of it either. He couldn’t stop worrying over you losing the studio, so he called up a real estate agent, and bam. Things happen damned fast when you’re rich. It’s going to be a few months before it’s up to code, but it’s all yours.”
Excitement swelled in her at all the possibilities, the doors having her own dance studio opened. “I don’t know what to say …” It was too generous.
His lips found her ear, hot and sweet, making her shiver. “You’ll fi gure it out, Mel. I’ll help you fi gure it out, if you help me fi gure out my new job.”
She pulled back from his mouth with reluctance, her eyes wide.
“Your new job?”
“Yep. I start next week. Corporate offi ces of Reiner and Sons.”
“Wait, isn’t that apartment complexes or high rises or something?”
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“It is. Subdivisions, too. Meet the new project manager.”
She was overwhelmed— with surprise— with happiness. “Who are you? Won’t that job make you the all evil, nothing but trouble, money?”
Drew’s eyebrow rose, but his grin was wide. “It will, a great deal more than I’m making now, too.”
“Did you take the job because Nate’s tuition’s going up? Because you don’t have to worry …” Hoo, boy. Cat offi cially out of the bag.
She winced when she looked at him, waiting for the thundercloud of doom to cross his face.
Instead, he smiled, smug and confi dent as the fi rst day she’d met him. “I know all about it, Mel.”
“But how? I did it anonymously through Stan’s lawyers.”
“Nate. It was easy to put two and two together after Stan told us about the substantial amount of money he gave you.”
Mel was prepared to stand her ground on this— at all costs. Her eyes narrowed, ready to do battle. “Is your pride going to keep Nate from earning the kind of education he needs because let me tell you a thing or two, McPhee. I won’t stand—”
Drew’s lips landed on hers with force, thwarting all protest as he scooped her up and kissed her, letting his tongue slide between her lips to the tune of her blissful sigh. She relaxed against him, clinging to his muscled arms. “I took the job because it’s high time I do what I love. I love to build houses in subdivisions and buildings. Big, tall buildings. Know what else I love?”
Her fi ngers lodged in his hair, reveling in the silky strands. She grinned. “Chili cheeseburgers? The Giants? Elvis? The Dallas Cow-boys Cheerleaders. Don’t pretend you don’t. I saw it with my own eyes. I even saw drool at the corner of your mouth.”
“I love you, Mel Cherkasov. I was a jackass for not saying it sooner— before you left to go to L. A. If you want to take the job with Celebrity Ballroom, I’ll support whatever makes you happy.”
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Tears began to slip from her eyes. It was the last piece of the puzzle—
Drew’s
support—
no matter what she chose to do. His
thumb swiped at her tears. She grabbed hold of his wrist and asked,
“Didn’t Stan tell you?”
“There’s more? I don’t know how much more I can take, honey.
I’m on confession overload.”
Stan hadn’t told him because he knew how important it was to her for Drew to trust her. A new respect for Stan blossomed in her, replacing some of the inner turmoil he’d created. “I didn’t take the job on Celebrity Ballroom.”
His eyebrow rose again. “Say again?”
Mel walked her fi ngers up the lapel of his tux. “I said I didn’t take the job on Celebrity Ballroom. They offered it to me, but I turned it down.”
“Because?”
“Not because of you, pal. You didn’t think I was going to come back here just for the torture of seeing you every day, did you? I did it because I’m happy at Westmeyer. I love the boys, and even if they don’t love to dance, they like me. I discovered if I’d wanted the spotlight so badly, I’d have found it through Stan. I guess, in the end, it just wasn’t as important to me as I thought it was back when I was fresh off the turnip truck.”
“So you’re staying at Westmeyer?”
“Wild horses couldn’t drag me out of there. Though, I’m a little sad you won’t be there. Lunch just won’t be the same if you’re not sneaking me a Ring Ding.”
“Whaddya say I bring you a Ring Ding every day at lunch? My offi ce is just down the road.”
Happiness settled deep in her heart, right beside contentment.
“Deal.”
“Did you hear that, everyone? I think we have a deal!” Drew yelped.
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Mel’s head swiveled as bodies poured out of every available nook and cranny still unfi nished in the studio. Her studio.
Nate jumped out from behind the big speaker and thumped his father’s back. “Wow, you sucked, Dad,” he said on a grin and a laugh.
“But nice try.” He gave Mel a quick hug before taking off to grab a plate for food that had suddenly appeared on a folding table in the corner of the studio.
Stan approached them, his face relaxed and happy. He slapped Drew on the shoulder with a laugh. “You are the worst dancer I’ve ever seen. Thousands of lifetimes of lessons couldn’t make you any better.”
Drew stuck out his hand in Stan’s direction and smiled wide.
“Couldn’t have done it without you, my man.”
Stan threw his head back and roared with
laughter. “If you ever tell anyone you’re the product of my instruction, I’ll shoot you.”
Someone turned the music back on as Myriam and Selena gathered Mel up in a warm hug, kissing her cheeks, while Joe gave Drew the father-to- boyfriend speech.
“I take back all the horrible things I said about Stan. He’s not a crusty wiener after all,” Myriam chirped.
“What’s this about crusty wieners?” Stan asked over her shoulder.
Myriam’s face turned red. “We didn’t know you were so nice,” she sputtered.
Stan cocked an arrogant eyebrow at her when he held out his hand. “I think you can make your off- color remarks up to me. May I have this dance?”
Myriam’s eyes widened as Stan swept her away to twirl her on the dance fl oor while William gathered Selena in his arms and pulled her into an awkward box step.
Drew wrapped an arm around Mel’s waist and pulled her to his side. “There’s someone over there in the corner you need to talk to, honey.”
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Mel’s eyes swept the room and spotted Neil in the far corner, somber, shadows under his eyes, his hands in his pockets.
She gazed up at Drew, hesitant. “Do you mind?”
Drew let his lips touch hers briefl y, the promise of the night to come on them. “As long as you remember when this is done— I have plans for you. It’s been a week, and you know how I feel about waiting longer than a week.”
Bracketing his face with her hands, she shivered against him. “Be right back.” She pressed a kiss to his jaw before sifting her way across the dance fl oor.
Neil eyed her with hesitance, but he lifted his chin in her direction, clearly fi ghting to maintain his composure.
Mel held out her hand to him. “Come here often?”
He took it, clasping it in his, his palms sweaty and cold. “Not as of late, but I hope to in the very near future.”
Mel smiled a warm smile, more of that peace she’d found wending its way through her veins. “So I hear you dance. Is that true?”