Page 18 of Dancing With Doubt

“So? So What is a good song.” She picked up the beer, her left eyebrow raised as she waited for him to answer.

“I guess I just never expected the ballerina to listen to that kind of artist. I’m not judging you, just surprised, that’s all.” Lincoln wiped at his mouth and took another sip.

“I’ll have you know your sister and I loved Pink. Her stuff is good.” She winked at him and started to sing along.

Her voice was as beautiful as her face and she had a sound similar to the female rockstar. She got up and started to dance along the deck, not caring who might see her and he thought, not for the first time about how much like Natalie Dormer she looked. It was uncanny but Roxie had the edge on the British actress, her looks were…better. And the way she could move nearly had him begging her to let him take her to bed, but he held back.

She’d let him know when she was ready for that. For now, his alpha-male instincts were appeased. He watched her dance, amazed as always at the grace she displayed with every step, every slither along his deck and back up.

Mandy and Tanya came out, their daughters already upstairs watching TV together.

“You go girl,” Mandy said and laughed as she and Tanya joined Roxie in dancing.

Lincoln hadn’t quite planned to turn his work family into his home family, but here he was, living with five females and another man because he wanted to keep one of the females completely safe. Not locked away, just safe and always within screaming distance of help.

The ladies all danced for a while, one song blending into another as they enjoyed their night. Lincoln watched, happy to just be near a laughing Roxie.

She finally came and sat down to have a drink from her bottle as the other two women went in to get drinks of their own. “That was fun.”

“Nothing like an impromptu dance party, huh?” He asked, pleased to see her cheeks flushed with a smile on her face that nearly lit up the night.

“I love dance of any kind, you know that.” She brushed off the question and redid the bun her hair had fallen out of. “That’s one reason I’ve never gone into another field. I could have taken classes and gone into business or nursing, or anything else, but I’m the most alive when I’m dancing.”

“I know.” He said, his mind on that room where the door remained locked. He checked it every night before he went to bed to make sure. She came alive in that room too, but in a different way than how she lit up when she was dancing.

“What makes you feel like that, Lincoln?” She asked after a long silence. Her face was pointed in his direction, lit up by moonlight and the faint light from the kitchen.

He stared at her, surprised she hadn’t figured that out yet, but if she hadn’t, then maybe he should keep it to himself.

“Work, I suppose. My work in Cambodia, for instance. I really enjoy doing things like that. Maybe using a hammer isn’t as graceful as a pirouette, but it’s something I like doing, building and creating.”

“I understand.” Her smile was warm, full of surprised pleasure. “Doing something with your body is good for you and it takes some skill to hit a nail and not your own thumb. I know, I’ve hit my thumb too many times to count.”

“Ouch, that does hurt.” Lincoln smiled at her, charmed by her admission. “I hope it didn’t cause too much damage.”

“No, nothing lasting anyway. Want to walk on the beach with me?” Roxie asked suddenly, surprising him.

“What? Yeah, sure. Let me just roll up my pants.” He bent to do that and kicked his shoes off. She had shorts on, no shoes, so she was already standing, ready to walk with him.

She’d been a little distant since he made her come and stay with him. After her initial fit of anger, she’d calmed down, but she held herself away from him. That was why it surprised him so much when she slipped her hand into his as they reached the waterline and the surf began to surge and draw sand from beneath their feet.

The wind kicked up, tugging her hair out of the bun again, but she didn’t fix it, she just let her hair whip around her head with a happy smile. She looked as if there was no place else she’d rather be, happy with the warm water from the ocean under her feet and the cool breeze pulling at her hair.

Lincoln let his own body relax as they walked, enjoying the silence and her company. She came up next to him, slipped her arm around his waist and he nearly stopped in shock. Luckily, he saved the moment and slid his own arm around her body.

“This isn’t an ‘I forgive you’ by the way. It’s just an ‘I’m good with this’ kind of thing.” She said, her head cradled against his chest.

“I’ll take whatever you want to give me, Roxie.” He assured her. “I’m not forcing you into anything.”

Well, except for that whole picking her up and making her come to his house to live. He refused to feel bad about that, though. Nathan was a shithead who’d hurt her one too many times. Lincoln wanted nothing more than to smash his fist into that punk’s nose, but Nathan was in hiding. Or he was if he knew what was good for him.

Maybe telling her to face her problems had been a stupid thing to say that day. Maybe telling her it was safe to go back to her apartment wasn’t so smart either. And he had to admit it, he should have been able to explain what had happened with his sister better than he did. He should have made her listen to him that night. From now on, he wasn’t going to let her just flounce off in silence without hearing his side of the story, no matter what they might be fighting about.

They both needed to have a say in what happened between them and she was going to have to learn that she didn’t know everything, no matter what her experience with men might have been up to now. He was trying to show her he was trustworthy, that he deserved the same respect she demanded. For now, he spent his nights miserable and alone, but it was worth it if it meant she’d come back to his bed a happier woman.

And if she didn’t come back to his bed? What then?

He’d simply have to find a way to live with it. He tugged her closer for a second, enjoying what she gave him for now. Later, he’d think about what could, might, happen if she didn’t take him back into her bed. Much later.