The Dance (27 page)

“What’s the deal with you?” Will said, pulling the T-shirt over his head.

I was putting away some of his clothes I had taken home earlier to wash. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re all dressed up.” I could hear the smile in his voice.

It was the end of September and even though the calendar claimed autumn had begun the thermostats all over Charleston begged to differ. The heat waned a bit as the sun went down but the rising temperature during the day leaned more toward feeling like summer. I was anxious for the season to transition from the stifling humidity to the crispness of fall. It was by far my favorite season. When I got up this morning and felt the cool snap in the air, I immediately rummaged through my fall wardrobe. I knew in all likelihood I’d probably be burning up later but I didn’t care.

Mom had invited me to lunch at 82 Queen, nestled in downtown’s historic French Quarter. The restaurant was upscale casual and one of the oldest and best in Charleston. Yoga pants and a T-shirt wouldn’t do.

I squatted down to put some T-shirts in the bottom drawer. “I had lunch with mom today. It’s just jeans and a sweater, Will. Nothing special.”

“Like hell it isn’t. Your ass looks mouthwatering in those jeans.”

I paired my dark jeans with a beige cashmere sweater and over-the-knee boots. My hair was down and my makeup simple. I wasn’t a big jewelry person but I had a few pieces that meant a lot to me. The long gold leaf pendant necklace that hung around my neck had been last year’s birthday present from my parents, as well as the gold hoop earrings.

The click-clack of crutches came up behind me as I continued to put away the clothes. Hot breath brushed the back of my neck. A steady quiver permeated my insides. I blew out a series of short breaths, trying to stay calm as his nearness closed in around me. Without warning a gasp pushed from my lungs when his hand cupped the denim covering my ass.

“The black boots are a nice touch.” His voice was low and husky.

I abruptly straightened and stepped to the side. “Will, stop it!”

“What?! You come in looking all hot and don’t expect me to react?” He moved toward me.

Raising my hand, I stopped him in his tracks. “Nothing has changed between us. You understand that, right?”

Will’s broad shoulders slumped forward as he walked back over to the bed and sat. “Why are you so quick to give up on us?”

My hands automatically curled into fists. “Give up on us?”

“I know we have some problems but things could be worse. I mean, I never hit you, Bryson.”

“So, as long as there’s no blunt trauma everything else should be acceptable?”

“All I’m saying is life with me isn’t exactly horrible.”

“What about all the lies?”

Placing his crutches to the side, he raised his dark brown eyes filled with all the sorrow he could muster. “I never intentionally lied to you.”

I stood shocked in place. But it wasn’t Will’s blatant denial of any wrongdoing that surprised me. It was my reaction. The twinge of anger I felt just a few seconds ago had dissipated and was replaced by apathy. Over the last twelve months I’d obsessed over each aspect of my marriage.

At the beginning, I sobbed every hour on the hour. My stomach twisted in a constant state of knots. I was consumed by schizophrenic emotions. One minute convulsing in pain and the next screaming in intense anger. Not too long ago I teared up while talking with Sophie about moving on from my marriage.

But as I listened to Will watering down our problems and his part in them, I didn’t feel angry, or hurt, or the threat of tears. I felt removed. Indifference had settled in my heart and I knew we were over.

I decided to ignore his manipulative attempt. There was no point rehashing our years together.

“Is there anything you need me to get before I head out?”

He narrowed his eyes and huffed. “You’ve not been here for most of the day and you’re leaving already?”

I arrived at the rehab early this morning with breakfast in hand as usual. Since Mom and I were going to lunch, I took the rest of the afternoon off from my babysitting job. To avoid an argument earlier, I promised Will I’d come back before the day was over.

“It’s past nine and I’m tired.”

Will slapped his crutches to the floor and pushed himself farther up the bed. “Fine.”

Without commenting, I walked over, picked up his crutches, and leaned them against the wall next to the bed. As I moved to grab my purse, Will reached for my arm.

“Bryson, wait.” His voice had softened but his expression was tight. “I thought you wore those jeans for me.”

I faced him. “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

Looking into his eyes I couldn’t tell if Will was completely delusional or playing me. I knew the last thing he wanted to do was admit to his parents that he wasn’t the perfect son they always dubbed him to be. He would suffer a slight chink in his armor but the embarrassment of our failed marriage would eventually subside. And I was sure his parents would once again raise him up to heights only mere mortals dreamed of achieving.

“We’re done. You never loved me and I don’t love you.”

I held his gaze for several seconds, hoping he’d realize the seriousness of my conviction before I turned and walked away. Just as I was about to cross over the threshold it dawned on me. Will wasn’t scared to tell his parents about the divorce. He was terrified of me telling them the reasons for it.

I made my way down the quiet hallway, very aware of my accelerated pace as I neared Hart’s office. I didn’t know the reason for my speed. It was Saturday and Hart didn’t work on the weekends. At least I hadn’t seen him around the three weekends I’d been here. Plus, it was way past his normal hours.

I was three doors away when I noticed the light on in the office. My pulse pushed against each pressure point of my body. The prickle of excitement skidded across my skin. I slowed my pace as I approached the open door, hoping Hart would look up at the very second I became visible. As I passed the door the sound that flew out of the office wasn’t the deep raspy voice I craved. Instead, the high pitch of a drawn-out whistle pierced my ears.

I was shocked and thrilled at the same time. Hart was definitely not shy when it came to playful flirting. But he’d never been so openly bold.

I liked it.

After the tense moment with Will I was ready for a little fun. I furrowed my eyebrows and set my lips in a straight line, pretending to be offended. Slapping my hand on the doorframe, I leaned back and poked my head inside the office. All the blood gushed from my body as four pairs of eyes zeroed in on me.

Hart was sitting behind his desk with two guys occupying the chairs in front. My gaze darted to a third guy perched on the conference table leering at me. I realized then Hart had not been the whistler.

“Hey,” Hart said, an awkward mixture of surprise and hesitation in his voice.

Other than Miss Polly and Amber . . .

God, Amber.

I’d not been privy to much of Hart’s private life. I basically stumbled on those two women the night I took him home. Considering the day and time, I assumed these guys were friends. There was definite hesitation in his voice with just the one word. Maybe he was a stickler for keeping his private life and work life completely separate. And right now I fell more into his work life than private.

Tightly gripping the strap of my purse, I straightened and moved inside the doorframe. “Hey, what are you doing here on a Saturday night?”

Hart tapped his finger on the papers in front of him. “Uh . . . quick paperwork.”

We exchanged smiles.

Hart’s gaze moved down my body, causing flash fires to ignite from head to toe. No doubt my cheeks and red purse matched. I would have turned away to hide my reaction but I enjoyed watching him watch me. We both snapped from our haze at the cacophony of throat clearing that filled the room.

Hart tore his gaze from mine and gestured toward his friends. “Bryson, these three stooges are my friends, Colin . . .”

Colin was one of the guys across from Hart. Even though he was sitting I could tell he had a lean athletic build like a swimmer. His jet black hair complimented his tan skin perfectly. As our bright green eyes met he raised his chin, giving me a sweet smile.

“Ronnie . . .”

Ronnie sat beside Colin. He was husky and boxy. No doubt a current or ex-football player. The dark short beard that peppered his slightly rounded jawline was the only hair on his head.

As his long legs pushed him up in the chair, Ronnie said, “Nice to meet you, Bryson.”

“And that’s Doug.”

A big smile crept across Doug’s face as he slid off the conference table and walked toward me. “Well, hello there, Bryson.”

“Back off, Doug!” Hart snapped.

Ronnie shifted in the chair. “Yeah, I’m sure Bryson likes to breathe in fresh air.”

“I took a shower.” Doug fired back, his gold hazel gaze drifting down my sweater.

“What year?” Colin asked sarcastically.

It was obvious these guys had been buddies for a long time.

Placing one hand on the doorframe, Doug ran the other hand through his sandy blond short hair. “Don’t listen to these guys. I’m minty fresh.”

I shifted away from Mr. Minty and moved closer toward Hart. “So what do you fellas have planned for tonight?”

“We’re gonna go have a few drinks,” Colin said.

I startled as the hot minty breath of Doug hit the side of my cheek and neck.
When the hell did he get that close?
“Hey, Bryson, why don’t you come with us?”

“Yeah, come with us,” Ronnie chimed in.

Colin agreed. “It’ll be a blast.”

“Come with us, Bryson,” the three guys said in unison.

I looked over at Hart trying to gauge his reaction.

Once again I felt the heat of his smoky blue-gray eyes over my body. “Bryson looks like she has other plans, guys.” His gaze ended its trip back at mine. “I’m sorry. Don’t pay these guys any attention.”

Colin leaned forward in his chair. “Do you have any plans tonight, Bryson?”

“Yeah, Bryson do you?” Ronnie asked.

“Come with us, Bryson.” Doug felt even closer.

“I don’t have any plans. Not sure if I’m dressed appropriately though.”

The guys all wore dark jeans and different colored dress shirts, untucked with rolled-up sleeves. Against the silvery gray of Hart’s shirt his eyes popped brighter than I’d ever seen. I figured I was okay in the wardrobe department but wanted to give Hart another out. I didn’t want him to feel pressured by his friends to have me tag along.

“You look hot.” Doug breathed.

Clenching his jaw, Hart warned. “Doug, knock it off.”

It was obvious Hart didn’t want me to go.

“Listen, thank you but I don’t want to intrude on guy’s night out. Y’all have a good time.”

As I turned to leave the peanut gallery piped up again, shouting, “Bryson, pleeeassse come with us!”

And then the only voice I wanted to hear found my ears. “Bryson, please come out with us.”

I turned toward Hart, beaming with excitement. “Really? I won’t cramp your style?”

“Being that none of us have any style, there’s nothing for you to cramp.” He winked.

“Give me two seconds to run a brush through my hair, throw on some more lip gloss, and I’ll meet you guys outside.”

Doug inched even closer to me. “Low maintenance. I like that. Exactly how low do you go?”

Hart abruptly shoved away from his desk as his eyes seared into Doug.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” I said, turning to leave.

Going out with these guys was probably not the smartest way to spend my Saturday night. But I didn’t seem to think logically or with any forethought when it came to Hart. I liked how he made me feel whether it was intentional on his part or just a side effect of him being a nice guy. All I knew was I wanted to spend as much time with him as I could.

Once out in the hallway I heard Hart’s deep growl. “If you don’t stop saying shit like that to her your ass can sit this night out.”

“I’m just having a little fun, man. What’s your problem? Do you lurve her?”

“I mean it, Doug. Don’t fuck with me on this one.”

“Okay guys, cool it. We all know Doug’s a douche so let’s not let that ruin things.” I couldn’t be sure but it sounded like Colin was the voice of reason.

“That’s right, Hart. I’m a douche.”

Warmth spread throughout my chest at Hart’s protectiveness. Other than the time I gave him a ride home, the only experience I’d had with Hart was within the confines of the rehab facility. I was excited and touched that he was opening up the friendship door by allowing me into his private world.

A shuffling noise coming from the office caused me to jump to attention. I quickly headed down the hall to the bathroom before I got caught.

Once I freshened up I headed outside, seeing my dates for the evening standing by Hart’s car.