Page 60 of Two-Step
Damn.
I’m smiling at him, and that’s just how I feel.
Chapter Thirteen
BEAU
As soon asthe song is over, I release Iris and take a step back. I have to. For a minute there, it felt nothing like a dance lesson. It felt…
Intimate.
And that’s not the way I should feel around a Hollywood actor—even if she seems far more innocent and guileless than I first believed.
“Great,” I say, stepping away and putting my attention where it should be. On the lesson. “You did really great.”
“Really?” She makes a face, wrinkling that adorable nose.
I chuckle. “Yeah. You did. We made it three circuits around the room without any missteps.”
Her hazel eyes go wide. “Wedid?”
“See what happens when you get out of your head?” I hold my smile in place, but she wasn’t the only one out of her head. I was in my body and—how do my students say it?—in my feelingswhile we danced, and that’s not a good thing.
Iris Adams—therealIris Adams—caught me off guard. She’s nothing like what I thought at first. And I’ve been spending the last couple of weeks trying not to think about her.
And the excited look she’s wearing? I won’t be able to forget that soon either.
“Three circuits? If I can do three circuits, then I’ve got the first number.”
“Almost,” I say carefully.
Her excitement dims. “What do you mean,almost?”
“Well, the notesNoncgave me detailed a few other moves, but nothing too difficult.” I’m being vague. While this is true, if I listed out the arch-unders and brush offs right now, she might get overwhelmed. One thing at a time. For now, I just want her to focus on what she’s accomplished.
She eyes me with suspicion. “What aren’t you saying?”
And I can’t help it. She wins my smile. “Nothing important. There’s more, but we’ll get there when we get there, and we aren’t behind schedule.”
She stews, clearly unsatisfied.
“Don’t worry, Iris.”
She rolls her eyes, full on drama-queen, but somehow I don’t mind it. “Yeah, like that’s an option.”
“It’s always an option,” I coax her.
A look flashes across her lovely face. It’s not belief, but I’m pretty sure it’s the wish to believe. Poor girl. For someone who makes other people laugh so easily, she’s wound pretty tight. Maybe if we work on the dancing enough, it’ll become something she enjoys. Something that allows her to let loose. Be free to express herself.
That’s what it’s supposed to be. The ultimate artform of the human body.
“Ready to get started again? Or do you need a bite to eat?” I ask, nodding to my platter of snacks.
She glances at the spread, her gaze appreciative. “No, no. I’m good. Let’s get back to it.”
I nod and start the music, this time choosing Cajun All-Stars. Their two-step rhythm is just a little faster than the Bonsoir Catin song, but I think she’s ready for it.
We begin, and she trips up at first, but then she finds her footing, and we start a measured, counter-clockwise revolution around the parlor.
