Even though that meant facing her worst fears.
Chatter continued on around her, and she was vaguely aware of some well-intentioned remarks about their gratitude and thanks. She hoped her smile and nod were answer enough because her mind was too busy jumping ahead to what exactly she’d gotten herself into to be of much use elsewhere.
When dinner came to an end she tried to help clear the table but was resoundingly shot down from all four of them. Alice went so far as to smack her hand when she went to reach for a serving dish.
Well, okay then.
“Are you ready for dessert?” Cole asked as he took her empty bowl out from beneath her.
She let out a little groan. “I wish, but I’m honestly stuffed.”
He smiled and somehow it felt…intimate. Like they were alone together and not in a crowded dining room full of people bustling about, with loud laughter and clattering silverware.
“Maybe later then,” he said.
She found herself nodding and agreeing even though she was thinking, later? She’d heard what they needed from her. Dinner was done. Wasn’t it time for her to be heading home?
Not that she was anxious to get back to her quiet, drafty flat. The Deckland home was warm and inviting, not to mention filled with life and laughter. Two things she hadn’t realized she’d been missing until tonight.
In fact, just thinking about heading back to her dark, empty apartment had her considering getting a pet. A cat, maybe. They were fine left on their own, weren’t they? Yeah, she could probably handle having a cat in her life….
Cole leaned over her again, his presence warm and strong. It might have been overbearing if he had a different personality, but as it was, his looming body over hers felt more reassuring than anything.
“I’d like to show you something,” he said, his voice soft and low. Holding out a hand to her, he said, “Will you come with me?”
Yes. The response was almost visceral. Yes, I’ll go with you. Yes, I’ll go anywhere with you.
She shook her head, laughing softly at her own silliness as she slipped her hand into his firm, calloused grip.
The others were caught up in cleaning and prepping the dessert to pay much mind as he helped her back into her winter coat and out the back door, into the frigid night air.
The stars were out already, a gift from daylight savings time, which tended to make dinnertime feel like the dead of night. She gripped his hand tighter as she followed his lead, through the snow that was already hard-packed even though winter had only just begun for Montana.
Where was he taking her? While she was curious, she couldn’t bring herself to ask. There was something magical about not knowing. There was a mystery in the air—maybe it was because it was dark, or the surreally bright stars overhead…or maybe she was just reveling in the afterglow of that Norman Rockwell dinner.
Whatever it was, she found herself keeping quiet, content to follow him on a path that wound its way down a hill. She could hear the babble of a creek in the distance but it was too dark to make out.
She wondered what it looked like back here in the daylight. She wondered if she’d ever be back to see it.
Crazy, really, but she felt homesick for this place even though her visit hadn’t even come to an end yet.
She let out a huff of laughter as she ducked her head.
“What’s so funny?” he asked. She could hear the smile in his voice, as if he was just waiting to be amused.
“It’s nothing.” And then, because she was afraid he’d pry, she asked a question, the question she should have asked from the get-go. “Where are we going?”
She caught sight of his upturned lips as he turned to her in the moonlight. “You’ll see.”
She found herself smiling back. Boy, she really had to stop doing that. It was like her lips had a mind of their own around his. She lost all control and found herself giving him goofy smiles like a… well, like a teenager.
He made her revert back to childhood. Clearly there was a problem here.
Looking up at the night sky, she caught sight of a few stars peeking out from behind the clouds. “I can’t imagine how beautiful it is out here when it’s a clear sky.”
She felt his gaze on her. “Nights here are pretty spectacular.” He gave a short laugh. “Is it bragging if I say that it’s pretty spectacular at all times of day?”
Despite her earlier warning to herself, she felt a grin spread over her face. “It’s not bragging if it’s the truth.”
His soft laughter rumbled next to her, more vibration than sound. “Well, it is the truth. The sunsets are too pretty to describe. And mid-afternoon on a sunny day? You can stand right over on that ridge over there.” She saw him point toward an area that was pitch black. “I swear you can see forever.”
They walked a little further before she realized that she missed hearing him talk. His voice was soothing in the darkness, somehow making her feel safe and protected. So she asked the first question to pop into her mind. “What’s your favorite time of day here?”
She caught his profile as he turned his face up to the sky like she’d just done as if he was contemplating that question.
“You know, according to my mama, this place was called Twilight Ranch because it was deemed the most perfect time of day. With the colors of sunset and the stars starting to show themselves…it really is spectacular.” He paused for a moment and she wished she had a better view of his profile. When he spoke again, his voice was filled with his usual laid-back charm. “My mama used to say that there was nothing in the world more beautiful than this ranch at twilight. She’d say ‘Cole, you’ll never see anything so pretty as this ranch at sunset.’”
She laughed at his impression of his mother—not over the top, but done with obvious affection. She noted with interest that he hadn’t outright answered her question. But she didn’t have a chance to think about it further because he finally came to a stop. “We’re here.”
They were standing next to a tall wooden structure that could have been a barn or a large storage outbuilding of some kind. “Okay,” she drawled. “Here where, exactly?”
His smile was quick and bright like a shooting star overhead. Tugging on her hand he pulled her in behind him. She heard him fumble in the dark and then dim, orange-tinted lights lit the wide open space.
“I know it’s not much,” he said, “but I thought it might be better than sharing that smelly old gymnasium at the high school.”
She turned to stare at him, only able to make out the shadow of his profile in the dim lighting. He couldn’t mean…he hadn’t really….
“This is for me?” It came out breathy and strange even to her own ears. But really, she was shocked. No, more than that. She was moved.
He dropped her hand in order to reach up and rub his neck in that ridiculously adorable gesture she was starting to recognize. “I know it doesn’t look like much, but I think I can make it into something that’ll work.”
She continued to stare, unable to form the appropriate words.
He gestured toward the far wall. “I figure I can put a barre in over there.” She could practically feel his warm grin when he turned to her. “You’ll have to help me with the measurements, of course. But it should be easy enough to make out of the wood we’ve got here.”
He continued on with details he’d clearly put a great deal of thought into—how they could heat the place for the girls, how they could shuttle the kids whose parents didn’t get out of work in time to take them.
He’d thought of everything.
“You don’t have to do this.” She inwardly winced. Those were the first words out of her mouth, but not the best. She hadn’t meant to sound ungrateful but it had occurred to her that he was doing this to curry favor and that thought had struck a nerve.
“I know,” he said, his voice soft and gentle in the dark lighting. “But I want to.”
She bit her tongue before she could argue further. No, she didn’t want hi
m to feel obligated. He’d saved her life, she was going to use some of her contacts to try and help them sell this new guest ranch idea.
In her book, they were more than square. But maybe he wasn’t just doing it for her. Her mind flashed on June and the others, who’d been so heartbreakingly eager to learn. She’d seen their interest and excitement and it had been like a beacon. A flare of hope. A reminder of those days long ago when dancing had been fun and magic.
Sometimes those days felt like a lifetime ago.
She’d been scared that being around these hopeful new dancers might make her feel bitter and jaded, but it had had the opposite effect. They were reminding her why she’d fallen in love with ballet in the first place.
And maybe, just maybe, Cole had felt that too.
Oh, she doubted he’d understand the sort of feelings it evoked in her, but he’d seen those little girls so passionate and excited. Maybe this wasn’t about her and trying to even the score.
Maybe it was about them.
That thought had her biting back the rest of her arguments. Because he was right. This place was perfect. Or at least, it would be when he finished with it. She could practically see it transform in front of her eyes as he spoke.
Her pride still wanted to argue, but for the sake of those little girls she bit back her initial reaction and instead lifted her head to smile at him. “That sounds perfect. Thank you.”
Her breath left her in a whoosh at the look in his eyes. Smoldering was the only word she could think of. His gaze was piercing and the silence between them laden with tension. No, not tension so much as… anticipation.
“Claire, I really need to apologize for earlier.”
She stifled a sigh. And then he had to go and ruin it. She wrapped her arms around herself as she turned toward the door. He was right, they’d definitely need some space heaters in here. “There’s no need.”
A hand on her arm stopped her, although his grip was far from rough. She could have easily pulled away, but if she were being honest with herself, a little part of her was desperate to hear what he had to say, even as most of her rebelled at the agonizing idea of dredging up that humiliating moment yet again. They should leave it dead and buried in the past where it belonged, along with her stupid high school infatuation.
“Please, Clarabelle.”
Whether it was the gentleness in his voice or the way he’d used the old nickname, she found herself relenting, turning around with another small sigh, ready to face another round of awkward embarrassment as he explained exactly why he didn’t want to date her.
He stepped closer, taking her hands in his. He was so close—too close for her to keep the kind of emotional distance she needed at a time like this. She didn’t consider herself terribly conceited, but she could admit that she’d never been outright rejected before and she wasn’t keen to experience this firsthand. But if she did, she wished she had some room….some distance to hide the emotions that would surely be written all over her face.
“What you overheard earlier—”
She tugged her hands from his. “It was nothing, really. Don’t worry about it.”
He ignored her protests. “It was rude and idiotic.”
Oh. Okay, yeah. It was also that. She stopped trying to pull away from his grip, wariness making her ready to try and flee at a moment’s notice.
His gaze was so steady on her it was unnerving. Not only that, but it was so…perceptive. Was that something one could tell just by looking? She wouldn’t have thought so until this moment when she could practically see the wheels turning as he studied her face, her eyes, her lips….
Oh my, his gaze seemed to have landed on her lips and for a moment it didn’t move.
It was suddenly hard to draw in air and her lips parted on a breath. She watched as he gave his head a little shake before lifting his gaze to meet hers head on.
He licked his lips.
Now it was her turn to stare.
“It wasn’t just rude,” he said slowly. “It wasn’t true.”
It took her brain a moment to process that and when she finally did, she blinked rapidly in confusion. “Wait, what?” She shook her head slightly. “What do you mean?”
Her heart had started beating too quickly. She could hear the rush of her pulse in her ears.
One side of his mouth pulled up in a lopsided grin that was somehow simultaneously sheepish and sexy.
How on earth had he managed that with one little twist of his lips?
His eyes crinkled up at the corners as he tilted his head to the side. “You happened to walk in on an embarrassingly juvenile bit of sibling teasing,” he said.
She raised her brows. “No, really?” Her tone dripped with sarcasm and he laughed. She smiled too, some of her hurt pride receding. “I’m pretty sure that was what I witnessed all throughout dinner.”
He tilted his chin down. “Touché. But earlier, you weren’t supposed to hear that—”
“I figured.” Her rapidly growing amusement came through in her voice. A lightness had spread through her body ever since he’d said it wasn’t true. Granted, she wasn’t sure exactly what he meant by that, but she felt something she hadn’t felt in months as she waited for him to continue.
Nervous anticipation. Excitement. A breath of life she’d started to think was gone for good now that her career was over, along with life as she’d known it.
His grip tightened on her hands and her breath caught in her throat. “The thing is,” he said slowly. Too slowly. She bit back the urge to interrupt. What? The thing is… what?
“The thing is, I didn’t mean it. Not entirely, at least.”
Some of her excitement dissipated. Not entirely? What did that mean?
He sighed. “I’m making a mess of this, aren’t I?”
“Yes.”
He laughed at her honest response and then looked up as if the words he was looking for were hidden in the rafters of this drafty old barn. “I guess what I meant was—A man would be lucky to date you….”
Her stomach fell. Her chest felt heavy. That light, nervous excitement was leaving so rapidly she felt like a balloon was deflating inside her. “A man,” she repeated. “How very hypothetical.”
His grip tightened and he leaned in closer, his tone and his expression taking on a new urgency. “Not just any man. Me, Claire. I should be so lucky as to date a woman like you.” He took a deep breath and she saw as he realized his error again. “To date you. I should be so lucky as to date you.”
She’d stopped breathing. “So what does that mean?” She swallowed down embarrassment and nerves. “I mean, I feel like you’re talking in double negatives here.”
He winced but his smile never faltered. “That’s because I’m making a total hash of this. I never was good with words.”
She shook her head, refusing to be distracted by his charm. “Because I think what you said was that you don’t not want to date me. Is that right? So, does that mean you do want to date me? I’m really confused here and I—”
He cut her off with a kiss. His lips were warm and gentle as he interrupted her speech. The world stopped turning. All that existed was this warm, kind, gentle man with his leather jacket and his laid-back charm.
Chapter Twelve
Words had never been his strong suit. He’d made a hash of his apology and even more of a mess when he’d tried to explain.
So instead…he kissed her.
And oh sweet mercy, what a kiss. Her lips were soft and warm beneath his, but it was more than just a physical sensation, it was electric. There was a hum in the air and a tension seemed to swarm around them, enveloping them as if they were in a world of their own.
As if the world outside of this old barn ceased to exist. For this moment—for this one, blissful period in time, it was him and her. Alone. And everything else ceased to matter.
Her lips clung to his and his arms wrapped around her and for a heartbeat he thought he might never let go. She tasted so sweet,
her lips were so perfectly fitted to his. The temptation to continue was unbearable.
But this was Claire Geddy. That reality wasn’t going to change anytime soon. So he eased away, dropped his arms, and took long, deep breaths to regain his composure. “I’m sorry, I—”
She shook her head. “Don’t.”
Don’t, what? He was afraid to ask. He’d made a mess of this, the least he could do was respect her wishes. Maybe he’d offended her with that kiss. But one look at her flushed cheeks and the glassy look in her eyes said otherwise. She didn’t look like a woman who was horrified by a kiss. She looked just as affected as he felt.
He opened his mouth to say…something. To apologize again? Maybe. To continue his hackneyed explanation about his embarrassing gaffe earlier that night? Possibly. Man, for a guy who was supposed to have some skill with the ladies, he’d become a hopeless buffoon around this woman.
Before he had a chance to apologize or explain, she turned away, heading out through the door so quickly, he almost didn’t catch up to her before the it slammed shut in his face.
“Where are you going?”
“Home.”
She was walking so quickly, his felt a jolt of fear. “Listen, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to--”
She whirled around and held up a hand. “Please. Don’t. Just don’t.”
“Um…okay.” What else could he say? When she frowned and turned to walk away once more, he asked the obvious question even though he was fairly certain it revealed what a moron he was. “Don’t what?”
She stopped but didn’t turn to face him this time. “Don’t apologize for kissing me.”
Well, okay then. “Fine. Then I’m not sorry.” And he wasn’t. Not for that kiss, at least. He could never regret that kiss. He just wished he’d done it properly, given her a kiss on a proper date the way she deserved. But that would mean asking her out, which would mean putting them both in the position he wanted to avoid.
Dancing Queens & Biker Kings: Sweet & Rugged in Montana Page 11