excitement rose in her chest at the idea of dancing with Neil again.
And it was more than good to know that part of her, the part that sought solace on a dance floor when everything else was falling apart, wasn’t entirely dead.
He’d been dismissed. As summarily as if he’d never been.
Drew lingered in the back of the rec center as Neil twirled Mel around to the tune of raucous clapping and whistles from admiring seniors and the song “Moon River.”
So Neil could dance.
And if he was the kind of guy who was into admissions, he’d admit that Neil didn’t look at all like a man in a tutu when he spun Mel around while she clung to his underarms and her long legs splayed out behind her. Her head lay against his chest in a way that made Drew’s eyes narrow with discontent.
Clearly, it took a certain amount of strength to do that and make it look like it was no big deal. But he’d bet dollars to donuts Neil didn’t know jack about a band saw and a drill.
He’d also bet dollars to donuts that Mel didn’t really care that Neil didn’t know a piece of knotty pine from a two-by-four.
Which meant they were worlds apart.
She was never going to build a house, and he was sure as hell never going to dance a waltz. Turning him down was probably the best thing to happen to him in a long time. Mel came from high-maintenance living. He knew that lifestyle, and it was one he wanted no part of. Simplified was the way to go.
Yet, that didn’t keep Drew’s eyes from straying to her face, serene in the low lighting, soft and so feminine it left his gut aching. It didn’t make him take himself out the door either.
Instead, he watched, fixated by how lovely she was, admiring the swell of her hips pressed to Neil’s and the long length of her leg when she sent it upward in an arc of graceful air to let it land behind her with her toe pointed at the floor.
She stole the breath from his lungs, and he wasn’t sure if it was because her love for this thing called ballroom dancing was so evident, almost something he could taste, or because of the way she moved across the floor like a goddess even with mussed hair and frumpy clothes.
He couldn’t tear his eyes away.
“Jasper was right.”
Drew jumped at the sound of his aunt’s voice. “About?”
“He said you were over here moonin’ over Mel. Called me right up on his cell phone to tell me, he did.”
He felt suddenly spiteful and it leaked into his words. “I’m not mooning. I was here to pick you up. Or at least I thought I was. Where have you been, lady?”
“Can’t pick someone up who ain’t here. I was banned from ‘Dancing with the Waitin’ on Their Room in Heaven’ crowd for a week. So you must be here for Mel.” Myriam thumped his shoulder. “She’s somethin’, huh? Pretty as a picture. Too bad you don’t dance, Drew McPhee. Sure looks like whoever that hottie is dancing with her is enjoying himself.” She cackled her characteristically evil laugh.
He willed himself to tear his eyes from Mel’s luscious body and focus on his aunt’s craggy face. “Nate said you needed a ride back to Mom and Dad’s after Mel’s class.”
“And that’s why you dressed up and put some cologne on? For me?” She tugged at his fitted shirt. The one he wore for special occasions and on Sunday if his mother forced him to go to church with her.
“I was dirty after work.”
“You were horny after work, pal,” she said dryly.
Drew hid a smile. “You’re a dirty old lady, Myriam Hernandez.”
“And you’re a besotted middle-aged man, Drew McPhee. Own it, bucko. Nothin’ wrong with likin’ a pretty girl. And Mel is pretty. And I don’t need a ride— you read the calendar wrong.”
“Then I’ll take you home.” With reluctance, he turned away as Neil and Mel’s dance ended, wanting to be anywhere but in the rec center when the lights went up.
“Sorry about the mistake, but I don’t need your ride, boy. I’m waitin’ for Jasper. We got a
And it was more than good to know that part of her, the part that sought solace on a dance floor when everything else was falling apart, wasn’t entirely dead.
He’d been dismissed. As summarily as if he’d never been.
Drew lingered in the back of the rec center as Neil twirled Mel around to the tune of raucous clapping and whistles from admiring seniors and the song “Moon River.”
So Neil could dance.
And if he was the kind of guy who was into admissions, he’d admit that Neil didn’t look at all like a man in a tutu when he spun Mel around while she clung to his underarms and her long legs splayed out behind her. Her head lay against his chest in a way that made Drew’s eyes narrow with discontent.
Clearly, it took a certain amount of strength to do that and make it look like it was no big deal. But he’d bet dollars to donuts Neil didn’t know jack about a band saw and a drill.
He’d also bet dollars to donuts that Mel didn’t really care that Neil didn’t know a piece of knotty pine from a two-by-four.
Which meant they were worlds apart.
She was never going to build a house, and he was sure as hell never going to dance a waltz. Turning him down was probably the best thing to happen to him in a long time. Mel came from high-maintenance living. He knew that lifestyle, and it was one he wanted no part of. Simplified was the way to go.
Yet, that didn’t keep Drew’s eyes from straying to her face, serene in the low lighting, soft and so feminine it left his gut aching. It didn’t make him take himself out the door either.
Instead, he watched, fixated by how lovely she was, admiring the swell of her hips pressed to Neil’s and the long length of her leg when she sent it upward in an arc of graceful air to let it land behind her with her toe pointed at the floor.
She stole the breath from his lungs, and he wasn’t sure if it was because her love for this thing called ballroom dancing was so evident, almost something he could taste, or because of the way she moved across the floor like a goddess even with mussed hair and frumpy clothes.
He couldn’t tear his eyes away.
“Jasper was right.”
Drew jumped at the sound of his aunt’s voice. “About?”
“He said you were over here moonin’ over Mel. Called me right up on his cell phone to tell me, he did.”
He felt suddenly spiteful and it leaked into his words. “I’m not mooning. I was here to pick you up. Or at least I thought I was. Where have you been, lady?”
“Can’t pick someone up who ain’t here. I was banned from ‘Dancing with the Waitin’ on Their Room in Heaven’ crowd for a week. So you must be here for Mel.” Myriam thumped his shoulder. “She’s somethin’, huh? Pretty as a picture. Too bad you don’t dance, Drew McPhee. Sure looks like whoever that hottie is dancing with her is enjoying himself.” She cackled her characteristically evil laugh.
He willed himself to tear his eyes from Mel’s luscious body and focus on his aunt’s craggy face. “Nate said you needed a ride back to Mom and Dad’s after Mel’s class.”
“And that’s why you dressed up and put some cologne on? For me?” She tugged at his fitted shirt. The one he wore for special occasions and on Sunday if his mother forced him to go to church with her.
“I was dirty after work.”
“You were horny after work, pal,” she said dryly.
Drew hid a smile. “You’re a dirty old lady, Myriam Hernandez.”
“And you’re a besotted middle-aged man, Drew McPhee. Own it, bucko. Nothin’ wrong with likin’ a pretty girl. And Mel is pretty. And I don’t need a ride— you read the calendar wrong.”
“Then I’ll take you home.” With reluctance, he turned away as Neil and Mel’s dance ended, wanting to be anywhere but in the rec center when the lights went up.
“Sorry about the mistake, but I don’t need your ride, boy. I’m waitin’ for Jasper. We got a
Similar Books
