A Promise Worth Honoring (Promises Collection) (3 page)

On her back, snuggled against his side, like they’d done as kids in his backyard waiting for shooting stars, she gazed at him like he was her world. His heart punched at his chest.

Maggie placed the ring in his hand. “Given enough time, I have faith that together we
can
conquer anything.”

He lowered his gaze to where her teeth embedded into her lip, thought about kissing the woman he’d known his entire life. Mr. Deter’s advice resonated true. Garrett needed to visualize his future with Maggie as more than just his friend. Beginning with him becoming her dance partner. “I’ll do it. Dance with you at your pageant.”

She leaned in and her lips brushed his, tempting him to shimmy closer. “Don’t be afraid to get close.”

His breath eased out and he twined his legs with hers, thought about how the pigtailed ten-year-old had transformed into a beauty queen, now safely tucked into his arms. “I thought we had a dance class?”

She murmured into his mouth, “Class doesn’t begin for half an hour.”

He tasted her smile, tasted sunshine on a stormy night. The way his body tingled from her chest and tummy and thighs pressed up tight against his, her touch might as well have been a lightning bolt that struck deep and fired him up until he could think of nothing else but claiming her as his. “Since my shift is over, we could get a lot closer in a half an hour.”

With a giggle, she shimmied closer. “Is that what you want?”

Leaning in, that’s exactly what he wanted. He didn’t care that their feet stuck out the side of Mrs. Deter’s porch, didn’t care about the fusty dirt underneath. In that kiss, her gentleness erased all the cares he’d ever had.

“Hey, cadet, you got a woman to do your work for you?” Dane laughed. “
And
all while you were manning the station. Now that’s multi-tasking skills even I admire.”

Go out there and do something remarkable.”

–Wendy Wasserstein

The flutters in Maggie’s tummy settled to a low burn, and she cringed at the way Dane had interrupted her and Garrett’s first kiss. She didn’t care what Dane wanted, she just needed to get rid of him so she and Garrett wouldn’t be late for their lesson. She squeezed his arm to erase the frown from his face. “After we meet with the dance instructor, how about a rain check?”

“On the lessons, or that kiss?” He pumped his brows and, because of his sly smirk, one of his cheeks dimpled.

Playfully, she elbowed Garrett, then began scooting backward. “We have to drop Red off at my mom’s and be at the studio in twenty minutes, which means we have to hurry.”

“You two need a hand?” Dane bent down—all six feet four of him—dressed head to toe in a uniform dusted with soot. He wore a smile, like the after model for a toothpaste commercial.

“No. We’re done.”

“For now,” Garrett whispered.

Heat rose to her face. She’d taken a chance kissing him, but his smile proved her display of affection well worth the risk. Once she was out of the crawl space, Dane greeted her with an outstretched arm, helping her stand. “Hi, Dane…”

He ran a hand down one of her thighs, brushing off a sprinkling of what resembled guano, not uncommon in older homes where half-inch spaces between wooden planks encouraged bat habitation. “What were you doing under there?”

She stilled his hand. “I was helping Mrs. Deter retrieve her ring when I got hung up and Garrett came to my rescue.”

“Good job, Cadet.”

Garrett stood, and slapped away the fine grains of dirt stuck to his fingers.

Healthy earth that reminded her of compost she and her grandmother had worked into the vegetable garden.
However, his eyes were now void of the softness that had encouraged her to try what her body didn’t want to deny.

“No problem. Maggie needs me, I’m there.” He brushed past Dane, trotted up to the porch landing, and called for Mrs. Deter, who invited him inside.

Dane yoked her shoulder with his arm. “Miss Safe Haven doesn’t belong in the dirt—not when I’m around.”

Red had circled the tree like it was a maypole, but seemed content pawing at the fallen pomegranates.

Maggie unwound his leash and addressed Dane. “So, how are you?”

“Great, since last Friday night. Saw your truck. Guess you came over to ask me to be your dance partner for the competition on Saturday?” He swiveled his leg—a typical tango move—then pretended to dip his imaginary partner.

Maggie hesitated. She didn’t want to cause any dissension between two men who lived and worked together, but she didn’t want to relinquish her time with Garrett either. “About that… I’ve asked Garrett.”

“Is that right?” Dane took a step toward her and slipped his arm behind her back, his hazel eyes soft.

She frowned and leaned away, disliking that Dane had entered the space she’d reserved for her best friend. Her back tensed against his palm.

He squeezed. “With me, you’re guaranteed to win the contest. We’ll go in strong and knock those judges off their seats.”

She popped her shoulders and glared at the closed screen door that had yet to expel Garrett. She didn’t need to be rescued, but having him at her side would have provided buffering from Dane’s advances, she hoped. The one and only date she’d spent with him, his language hadn’t included nouns, adjectives, or verbs—only his jousting tongue and roaming hands when she preferred a more antiquated performance. One she hoped to explore with Garrett—if they could ever find a private moment. She wiggled free. “Thanks for the offer. I’m going for fun this year.”

“Fun?” Dane pulled back, and his stare turned quizzical. “It’s a competition and Garrett’s as competitive as the next guy. There’s no fun in being a loser.”

Red whined and his wagging tail drooped.

She jammed a smile on her face and forced her cheeks to move her happiness into her eyes. More than ever, she wanted to have fun with Garrett, so he’d pursue their relationship beyond friendship.

“Oh, almost forgot…” From his back pocket, Dane retrieved a rolled-up and spiral bound twelve-by-twelve glossy calendar and handed her the tube. “Fresh off the press. All the benefits from the calendar go to the Fire Fighter Institute for burn victims. Thought you might enjoy a copy of Mr. January.”

She tapped her foot on the damp clover, wishing Garrett’s politeness and heroism in regards to retrieving Mrs. Deter’s band would cease. “Oh, a benefit… How nice—”

She stared at Dane’s spread and her thoughts immediately pictured Garrett in his place. Her tummy fluttered until her face flushed, and a deep heat nestled down low. But when she heard something and turned, it wasn’t Dane’s bare and ripped chest or the thick thighs that supported his Adonis shape that had her breath rushing in and out, nor was it the fire hose twined around his lower torso ending with the red-tipped nozzle in his hand. No, what had her practically hyperventilating was Garrett’s sudden appearance and his slack jaw as he saw what she was looking at. She hadn’t heard him exit Mrs. Deter’s house and come to stand behind her with an apple pie balanced on his palm while she practically gawked at Dane’s—hose.

Lightheaded from picturing Garrett nearly naked, she London-bridged Dane’s arm and stumbled over a large root that protruded from the ground. “Garrett, we’ll be late—”

Dane glared at Garrett, then smiled. “I didn’t realize you danced competitively. Just like the firefighter exam next week, I wish you the best of luck.”

Garrett switched the pie over to free the hand closest to hers, then reached down to twine their fingers together. “Maggie’s a good friend. I’m glad to help her win the contest.”

“Win…? Unless you dance more than I thought, you’ll have to practice every waking moment to even come close to reaching the semi-finals.”

“No problem. Maggie needs me, I’m there.”

She squirmed free of Garrett’s possessive hold. Showing him he could have a fun time doing something unexpected was more important than winning or further stressing him out. “This is about fun.”

Dane reached for her hand, spun her around, dipped her backward, and kissed her mouth. “It’s about winning.”

Dizzy and seeing double, she squinted at Garrett’s narrowed eyes. She shoved Dane without making too much of a scene. “Dane! What was that?”

“Garrett understands… like he said, you’re his friend. I’m your boyfriend.”

“Appears that way.” Garrett’s jaw tightened so the cords in his neck strained. The pie he held tilted.

As if at any moment he planned to thrust the masterpiece into Dane’s face. Maggie wouldn’t blame Garrett one bit, but she needed to convince him that some things were not what they appeared. She wrestled the pie from Garrett as Red jumped up and down. By the light green color of the Granny Smith slices and cinnamon sprinkles still riding the sugared sauce, she could see the apples hadn’t been allowed to marinate long enough in the sugar-and-spice combination to soften and infuse the tart flesh with…love. She plucked an apple slice out of the deep dish and popped the morsel into Garrett’s mouth, knowing the apple slice would bite back.

Garrett’s eyes pinched and his mouth puckered, but he chewed regardless. “You’re right, appearance isn’t everything.”

“We have to go. Now.” She thrust the pie into Dane’s hands, untied Red—who strained to hang back with Dane and that pie—and tugged both toward her truck. 

After ten minutes of hauling tail, which included taking Red to her mom’s, she pulled curbside right in front of the dance studio, only to witness Emily, Garrett’s ex-girlfriend, shaking hands with Maggie’s pageant coach.

Blood drained from her head and she gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles whitened.

# # # #

Still sitting in the passenger seat of Maggie’s car, Garrett adjusted his collar, even though the shirt he wore hung loose. Why was Emily at the dance studio? Pageants required commitment, and she was more of the uncommitted type—probably why he’d dated her in the first place, because she was the polar opposite of Maggie. But whatever, he planned on staying away from her and keeping really close to Maggie.

Only, would he be dancing with her or kissing her, too? He couldn’t answer that second question until they cleared up that little matter of Dane being her boyfriend…or not. He swallowed several times and opened the car door, but Maggie reached across the bucket seat and clasped his thigh, her darkening gaze begging his attention.

“Everything will work out. I promise we’ll have fun, so forget what Dane said about me being his girlfriend. I’m not. And whatever happened between you and Emily was mutual, right? Including the break up?”

He smirked and hoped Emily’s take on their relationship proved amicable. She was adventurous, and unafraid of a little danger, but with three brothers, her aggressive nature seemed edgy. “She’s competitive.”

Maggie’s fingers squeezed, then released. “Nothing wrong with a test of wits and skill, as long as it’s judged fairly.” She reached behind the seat, retrieved a canvas duffle bag, and plopped it in his lap.

“What’s this?” He pried open the bag. “Why are you giving me a box of bandages and a roll of tape?”

“By week’s end, you’ll know. Now, take off your shoes.”

Lifting his gaze, he raised one brow. “Don’t I need shoes?”

She curled her fingers, encouraging him to place his foot on the center console while his knee tapped his chin. She removed his sock and taped one heel, then she taped his other foot. Lastly, she passed him a pair of leather shoes with a slash of patent leather on the sides and a good inch heel. “Wear these. They’re Latin performance dance shoes we’ll practice in all week, so, come competition night, you’ll be used to them.”

The new leather gloved his foot. “Blisters. Sounds like a blast.”

Her smile seemed forced, but he followed her into the dance studio and tried to convince his nervous stomach to embrace the challenge and to disregard Emily’s gaping mouth. As long as he kept his focus on Maggie and helped her achieve her dreams, he’d become the viable dance partner she hoped he could be.

Inside the rectangular studio, mirrors lined three walls and gave an infinite illusion of oak flooring.

Ms. Aubrey, the instructor and co-chair of the homecoming parade for as long as Garrett could remember, waved her arms for the five pageant contestants and their partners to form a circle around her.

He recognized all the twenty-something contestants, both male and female. These were kids he’d run around with forever—a slice of hometown with people he was honored to join. He felt a warm sense of appreciation Maggie had asked him to be her partner.

“Okay, contestants. This year I’ve decided to let Fate choose which dance we’ll perform at next Saturday’s festival. Garrett, since you’re new to the competition,” she offered him a brown bag that he dipped his hand into, pulling out a piece of paper, “read it out loud, please.”

“Tango.”

“Ah, yes, the Latin dance of seduction. We haven’t performed this number in four years, and the dance is always a crowd pleaser. Grab your partner and take the floor.”

Ms. Aubrey turned on “
La Cumparsita
”.

Garrett recognized the ballroom dance from the selection his European grandmother with Argentinean ancestry had played. He tapped his thumb against his thigh to the 4/4 rhythm.

With a gentle touch, Maggie raised his chin and encouraged him to hold his shoulders in a way that caused his back to flatten in a soldier’s stance. In simple terms, she explained the movement of his extended arms, rotation of his palm on her back to guide her around the other couples, and the step, step, step, slide, slide movement of his feet.

She hissed.

Shit
. He’d stepped on her foot, right where the strap laced over her arch. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’re here. The trick is to feel the music’s rhythm with your body.”

As his voice had done during the first year he’d tried to learn French, his feet sputtered and slurred, unable to comprehend what they were supposed to do. On the fifteenth “I’m sorry,” he cringed. Every step forward, his feet stuck in a pattern that resisted a new direction, he hurt her. In turn hurting himself.

But she kept moving, kept smiling… and so much more, making his heart and mind expand with a sense of awe.

That dance lesson hadn’t ended with a kiss, as he’d hoped. Nor had the next one the following night. And two days later, he questioned what he’d gotten himself into. What had he been thinking? But he knew the answer—he needed a change and he’d gladly put his trust in Maggie to show him another way to infuse his life with fun.

He’d been wrong to think dancing was a gentle
sport meant for beauty contestants and classy gents. The tango took the stamina he’d obtained as a fire cadet, but his grace and timing still needed work, as was apparent by Maggie’s bruised arch. Why she still wanted him as a partner eluded him, but he didn’t plan on letting her down. He spun her so they faced the opposite direction and pressed his cheek against hers.

She giggled and pulled closer, then she sidestepped, straddling his right leg until her black tights snugged against his jeaned thigh.