Dancing Shoes and Honky-Tonk Blues (18 page)

“Yesiree,” he says and pauses to take a long drag on his cigarette. After blowing out a long curling stream of blue smoke he says, “I know Abby Harper. Never thought I’d see the day she’d be ballroom dancin’, though. Why, that girl has trouble walkin’ and a-chewin’ gum. Spills somethin’ on someone most every day. Once she knocked over a full glass of lemonade on a baby.” He slaps his knee and goes into a wheezing fit of laughter. “The baby was a-wailin’ and her mama was a-hollerin’. Never seen such a sight.”

I narrow my eyes at the screen wishing I had an egg or better yet a tomato to hurl at bigger-than-life Pete. But then he scratches his grizzly chin and says, “Yep, no one was more surprised than me that she done so good. Did us right proud.”

I swallow. I made Pete proud? Well, shut my mouth. But before I have time to get all choked up Ben Sebastian is suddenly thrusting a microphone in my face.

“Well, Abby Harper, waitress at Sadie’s Diner. Pete was impressed. The judges were impressed. Do you think the American public was just as impressed with your steamy cha-cha?”

Steamy? Lord have mercy, I think I might pass out. Ben is looking all fuzzy and the microphone resembles a slithering snake. Yes, locking my knees was a big mistake. I sort of sway . . . and feel icky. Oh, crap, I’m gonna hurl as I pass out. No . . . dear God,
no.

But then I feel Rio’s strong arm firmly support me about my waist. His voice, sounding sort of far away, says, “I can tell you that I was certainly impressed. Abby’s smart, gifted, and a hard worker, a combination that’s going to be difficult to beat.”

My vision is still wavy but I see Ben’s very white teeth flash as he smiles, snapping me out of it. “Well, Abby Harper, America agrees. You are
safe.
Go have a seat with Danny, Julia, Mac, Travis, Daisy, Jimmy Joe, Hank, and Brandon.”

With Rio’s arm still offering support, I go over to the safe contestants and flop down onto the seat when my legs all but give out.

Rio whispers in my ear, “You okay?”

I manage a nod, wishing Rio would grab my hand, but he doesn’t so I turn my attention to the final bottom three. My heart goes out to them. I didn’t realize how awful this would be.

Ben gets this serious look on his face and says in his deep MC voice, “Betty Cook the lunch lady, Patsy James the florist, and Mary Lou the maid, one of you is safe and the other two will go back to your regular jobs.” He pauses while the three women cling to each other. “Betty Cook?” Ben pauses again and Betty’s Olive Oyl eyes get as big as moon pies. “You are . . .” He pauses so long that even I start to sweat. The audience gets restless, and even cool-as-a-cucumber Rio shifts in his seat. Someone in the audience yells, “Come on, get on with it,” but Ben, being the professional that he is, ignores the outburst. Instead he waits even longer.

“You are . . . safe!”

Betty just stares at him and starts blinking rapidly, looking more like a cartoon character than ever. I’m wondering if she made the mistake of locking her knees too.

“Betty, you are
safe
,” Ben says a little louder but it’s his wide smile that seems to break through to her. “Take a seat.”

“Oh!” Betty gives Ben a big hug that lasts a bit longer than it should, but then Ben is pretty
hot.
She clasps her hands to her chest Olive Oyl style and hurries on her long, loopy legs over to the last vacant seat.

“Mary Lou and Patsy, I’m sad to say your stay on
Dancing with the Rednecks
is over. Is there anything you’d like to say to the American public who didn’t vote for you?”

There are a few suggestions shouted from the crowd that on any other station than Comedy Corner would have been bleeped. I’m thinking that it’s coming from some four-wheel-drive tailgaters I spotted earlier in the parking lot.

“Yes,” Patsy says and hiccups, clearly holding back tears. She swallows three or four times and then says, “Well, yeah, thank y’all so much. I know I wasn’t good but I had a blast.” She turns to us and says, “Good luck to y’all!” She hiccups again and then places a hand over her mouth.

Mary Lou giggles and I fully understand her nervous laughter. My heart goes out to her, too. I figured the out-of-control spin would do her in although I thought she might gain some sympathy votes. After all, she still has the bandage on her forehead. “I . . .” Mary Lou says with her hands clasped close to her chest, “I . . . I had the time of my life. I wouldn’t trade a moment of it for a thing, not even my crazy spin.” She touches her forehead. “I think I might have a scar but that’s . . . that’s
okay
because it will remind me of this experience.”

The crowd eats this up and she gets whistles and wild applause. “How else was I gonna make it on
Good Morning America
? And have Jay Leno tell a joke about me on
The Tonight Show
?”

The crowd stands up and cheers.

We stand up and cheer.

My eyes fill with tears. I’m proud of us all. Even Ben looks a little choked up.

Rednecks are a force to be reckoned with.

Rio squeezes my hand and I instinctively lean over and kiss his cheek. “Thanks for believing in me,” I whisper in his ear.

“You make it easy,” he whispers back. His warm breath tickles my earlobe, making me shiver. I so want to throw my arms around him and give him a big hug but I give him a smile instead. He looks as if he might say something else but we notice that we’re supposed to be part of a big group hug for Patsy and Betty, who are both swiping at tears. I find myself doing the same thing.

In the background on the big screen are highlights of Mary Lou’s and Patsy’s short-lived stint on
Dancing with the Rednecks
, ending with Mary Lou’s out-of-control spin, first the one during rehearsal, and then the one during her dance. At one point they show both spins on a split screen. The crowd is both laughing and cheering and I imagine people watching from their living rooms are doing the same thing. Mary Lou takes a good-natured bow and I think to myself that no matter how much we’re poked fun at, I will always be proud of who I am and where I come from. America might have voted, but in my book we’re all winners. With that thought I throw myself into the group hug, thinking that no matter what, I will remember this moment forever.

I shamelessly take this opportunity to turn and throw my arms around Rio, finally getting my much-needed hug. Whether by instinct or better yet because he wants to, he hugs me back. I soak up the moment, loving the feeling of being in his arms, lingering as long as I can before becoming too obvious, and then turn away before he can see the hunger and need that must surely be written all over my face.

As I weave through the crowd to get over to Mama and Jesse, I’m stunned when I’m stopped for pictures and autographs . . . me,
autographs
!

“My little superstar!” Mama gushes and gives me a big hug. “Abilene, I’m so proud of you!” She squeezes me so hard that I think my head might pop right off.

“Hey, Abby,” Jesse says with a grin.

“Squirt.” I hug him as hard as Mama hugged me. I miss them so much but I don’t say so because Mama will cry and I’ll cry and Jesse will roll his eyes.

“They feedin’ you okay?” Mama asks and looks me over to see if I’m losing weight. “If not I’m gonna send some real food up on that mountain to you if I have to bring it up myself.”

“The food is good, Mama. Not as good as the diner, but good. You doin’ okay without me at the diner?”

Mama nods. “Everybody keeps askin’ after you, hoping you’ll come in for a shift, but I tell them you aren’t allowed. Business is booming, though! We had to have Norma come in and I might have to hire another waitress for the lunch shift. But don’t you worry. Just concentrate on your dancin’.”

“I will,” I assure her just as they call for us to head for the limo. I give Mama and Jesse another quick hug.

“Good luck, Abby,” Jesse says and gives me a little shove.

“Call me when you get the chance,” Mama says and starts blinking rapidly, trying to hold back the floodgates.

“I will.” I nod and start blinking too and then turn to hurry out the door before I lose it. I’m usually a steady-as-she-goes kinda girl, not an emotional wreck! I close my eyes and take a deep breath of crisp air, trying to clear my head, and vow to get a hold of myself. Of course walking with one’s eyes closed leads to running into things . . .
something warm and solid.

“Whoa there,” Rio says in that smoky voice of his that makes me think that whatever he’s selling I’m buying. He steadies me around the waist and his hands feel warm through the thin silk blouse I’m wearing. I finally read through the packet so I knew to dress up for tonight’s occasion.

Of course my eyes are wide open now and looking into his. The night breeze kicks up, filling my head with the scent of his cologne and leather jacket. I shiver but only partly from the chill air.

“Where’s your coat?” Rio asks.

His voice is a low sexy rumble and his hands are still holding me close, making my brain refuse to formulate an answer. The best I can come up with is “M-my coat?”

“Yes, didn’t you wear one? It’s cold out here.”

Cold . . . coat . . . suddenly my brain decides to function. “Oh, my
coat.
I left it in the limo.” I look over his shoulder into the lighted parking lot. “Hey, where
is
the limo?”

Rio shrugs. “They were waiting for you so I told them I would drive you back to the lodge.”

“Oh.” I notice that we are completely alone in the back parking lot.

“I hope that’s okay?”

I nod, fully aware that his hands are still holding me close. “You have a car?”

He grins and motions with his thumb over his shoulder.

“Okay, stupid question.”

When Rio laughs his hands tighten on my waist and I stumble forward . . . It was an accident, I swear, but suddenly I’m flush against him. He stumbles as well, takes a step back, and lands against the door of a shiny black car. So now I’m leaning on him and he’s leaning on the car and I think he’s going to push me away but with a low growl in the back of his throat he dips his head and captures my mouth with his.

The kiss is long and hot and oh so deep. I hang on to the lapels of his butter-soft leather jacket, and his hands go from my waist to my back, pressing me even closer. His tongue strokes mine, sending a hot shiver of excitement coursing through my entire body. I tug on his lapels and he slides his hands down to cup my ass, pushing me closer so that I can feel how much he wants me.

While still kissing me Rio fumbles for the door handle and we tumble onto the backseat . . . all legs and arms and heavy breathing. My silk shirt slides against the cool leather and I bend my knees to accommodate his body on top of mine. When his mouth moves to my neck I thread my fingers through his long hair. His warm kisses move lower to the swell of my breasts and with a sexy moan he shifts his weight to the back of the seat and then begins to undo the pearl buttons until my blouse falls open, revealing my bra.

“Ah . . . Abby, what are we doing?”

“Makin’ out in the back of your fancy car.”

He chuckles. “I know that. My God, I haven’t done this since I was a kid.”

“Well, you’re one up on me ’cause I’ve never done this,
ever.
”

“You’re kidding.”

“Well, there was this time in the back of a truck but it ended really badly.”

“I won’t ask.”

“Smart thinkin’,” I say and then gasp when he rubs his thumb over my nipple.

“This is insane, doing this. We should stop.”

My heart sinks. “Oh . . . I—I know. We keep going down this same road, Rio. I think it’s inevitable.”

“I think you’re right. Abby, I’ve tried not to think about how silky your skin feels.” He slides his hand up my thigh, stopping just shy of where I want him to be. “Or how you taste.” He runs the very tip of his tongue over the soft swell of my breast. “And I can’t stop imagining how it would feel to be buried deep inside you.”

I look into his eyes and whisper, “Then do it, Rio. Make sweet love to me.”

“But—”

I stop him with a fingertip to his lips. “We can’t deny this thing between us, Rio. I know I’ll regret it if we don’t see this through.”

“Ahhh, Abby.”

“Were you hoping this would happen?”

He nods slowly. “In the back of my head, yes.”

I fleetingly wonder if this has anything to do with Angelina. Is he using me to get her out of his head? But suddenly it doesn’t matter. The future doesn’t matter or even the competition. I cup his cheeks between my palms and say, “All that matters is right here and now.”

Taking the Lead

“I’ve never known a woman like you, Abby Harper.”

“How so?”

He runs his fingertip over my bottom lip. “There is sweetness and honesty about you that tugs at my heart. The last thing I want to do is hurt you.”

“I’m not made of spun glass, you know.”

“Ah . . . that I can see.”

“Then just what are you waitin’ for? A written invite?” I try to sound sassy and confident but it comes out breathless. I search his eyes for his answer.

He chuckles. “No, that’s not necessary.”

“Then I think I need a little less talk . . . and a lot more action.” There,
that
sounded sassy, well, except for that little quiver in my voice.

He shakes his head, laughing. “Be careful what you wish for, my little lemon.”

I chuckle but it’s really to hide my reaction to him referring to me as
his.
I realize now how much I want to be his and his only but I also know how unlikely that is to happen. Making love to him will be risking my heart but it’s a risk I’m willing to take. For once in my life I refuse to worry. But then a sudden thought occurs to me. “No one can see us, can they?” I whisper like someone can hear. I’m willing to risk my heart but not my reputation.