The Ballerina's Stand by Angel Smits

he’d leaned toward her, that he was attracted to her. She’d thought then that maybe—but she’d been stupid and run away. Even if he’d had any ideas, she’d certainly killed them.
    â€œWhat’s going on?” Lauren signed slowly. He was getting better with sign but still had a lot of work to do.
    â€œWith what?” As he opened the passenger door for her, Jason faced the light so she could read his lips.
    She waited until he’d climbed in on his side of the car. “You work today?”
    â€œYes.” He started the car, but didn’t pull away from the curb. The half smile on his face told her he was up to something. Finally, he turned to face her. “You eaten?” he signed.
    Last week as they’d sat in front of her town house, they’d had another simple conversation. It was good practice for him and she’d enjoyed the company.
    It had taken five minutes to explain that on Thursdays she went home, threw a sandwich together and went to bed. In response to this question, Lauren shook her head.
    Jason grinned at her. “Trust me?”
    Her heart flipped and panic threatened. She had to take a couple of breaths to focus on her heartbeat. Trust? Did she trust him? Did she trust anyone—really?
    Slowly, she met his eyes and nodded. Jason hadn’t done or said anything to make her not trust him. She was the one with the issues. It was her baggage from the past—and this was the perfect opportunity to work on it.
    He winked at her as a reward, and she forced herself to relax as he pulled away from the curb.
    They moved through the city streets, mingling with the traffic. He turned the radio on and waved at it to let her know she could choose the music and volume. Lauren shook her head, turning it off.
    She wasn’t in the mood. She’d never liked surprises.
    Jason headed toward Glendale. Not too far away, but an unfamiliar part of town. The sights intrigued her, and she felt a sense of anticipation.
    Finally, Jason pulled into a large parking lot filled with pickup trucks. The neon sign on the roof shone bright orange, casting a glow over everything.
    Lauren had never been to any place like this, and her anticipation tried to morph into anxiety. Jason squeezed her hand and gave her another of those smiles that kept the emotional shift at bay.
    â€œCome on,” he said, climbing out and coming around to her side of the car. As they walked across the parking lot, he took her hand again, and she let him. It seemed...right.
    His hand was strong, warm and calloused, and any uncertainties she’d had fled. She let herself smile back at him.
    The building’s facade was decorated with old barn wood and Western shapes cut out of iron. Hay bales lined the front entrance to complete the cliché. Jason opened a big wooden barn door and the thump of country music washed over her.
    The sharp, sweet scent of barbecue and mesquite filled the air, making Lauren’s mouth water. Her tummy rumbled.
    A hostess in a short gingham dress and cowboy boots led them to a table, then set large plastic menus in front of them.
    The cute young waitress was talking to Jason, leaning close. Lauren half expected her to bat her eyelashes right in his face. And all Jason did was nod and focus on the menu. He didn’t even watch her walk away, despite the girl’s sashay.
    â€œHungry?” Jason signed. “I am.” He studied the menu where a large picture of a mega steak covered the top quarter of the page. Apparently if you ate the whole thing, it was free. She tapped her fingernail on the picture and saw him laugh.
    He paused and slowly signed. “My brother in Texas would try.”
    Lauren remembered seeing the legal diploma from Texas in his office, as well as the family picture and belt buckle.
    â€œTexas? Home?”
    He nodded. “Grew up there.”
    She made the sign for a belt. “Yours?” and when he frowned, she spelled