He returned to sit with Bailey on the leather couch, her poor toe now bandaged with a professional’s touch. How she’d managed to dance on it at all he didn’t know. “How are you doing?”
“Better. That food was so good, and Callie was really nice. I feel so much better now I could almost fall asleep right here.”
“You can stay in the guest room, Dan said.”
“I could, but it looked like there was some baby stuff in there.” Her nose wrinkled. “I might’ve accidentally found the spare room when I was looking for the bathroom before. Is his wife pregnant?”
“Not that I know.” And not a question he was about to ask. He might pride himself on being direct but some things were so personal even he knew not to ask. A woman being pregnant was one of them. Far better to let that fall from the happy couple’s mouths. Although, now he thought about it, he could see Dan wanting to start a family soon. He’d always said that. So the fact he hadn’t said anything, if there was baby stuff but Sarah wasn’t pregnant, meant maybe things hadn’t gone the way they’d wanted.
“We should pray for them, huh?”
He studied her, fresh gratefulness for her insight filling his chest. Which only grew when she prayed aloud for God to “bless Dan and Sarah with favor, good health and a family. In Jesus’s name, Amen”.
“Amen,” he echoed gruffly. “Thank you.”
Her lips curved, and he knew a blinding desire to kiss her, that made him rear back. Point his face at the floor. Close his eyes and pray for strength. That he’d stay focused on what needed to be said and not expose his heart once and for all.
“So, um, what was it you wanted to say earlier?” she asked.
His gaze lifted. “You. You weren’t okay tonight, and I want to know why.”
“You know about my toe, and the fact I messed up my routine.”
He shook his head. “It was before that. You were worried. And I can’t help but feel like you were worried about me.”
She blushed.
Okay, so it had been about him. “Have I done something wrong? If I have, you need to say so. But I don’t do well without knowing.” He sighed. “I’m probably too straightforward at times. Believe it or not I’ve been accused of being blunt a time or two.”
“Really?”
“You’re cute when you’re sarcastic.”
“Only when I’m sarcastic?”
“Yep. The rest of the time you’re so pretty it almost makes it hard to look at you.”
See? More overshare right there.
Her eyes were so wide, they rivaled the fancy blue drinking glasses he’d found in Dan’s kitchen.
“I didn’t mean to say that,” he mumbled.
“That you think I’m pretty?”
He sighed. He could see potential for this conversation to go way wrong.
She sat up a bit, her foot slipping off the cushion, and he shifted to place it on his lap.
“What are you doing?”
He barely knew. “You need to be careful.”
She gestured between them. “We do.”
He knew what she meant. And suddenly knew the main reason for her concern. “It is me, isn’t it?”
She slowly nodded. “Look, I know it’s a completely different world to what you’re used to, but believe it or not, I’m finding it hard too. I… I haven’t danced with a partner like this for years, and it’s bringing back memories of how easy it is to get, um, caught up in things, in emotions, that happen simply because we’re in each other’s company so much. And with all the things that people are saying, it’s hard to not start wondering if maybe some of it is, uh, maybe true.”
“That I like you.”
“Yes,” she whispered.
Which meant she probably didn’t like him the same way. Which wasn’t awkward or anything. All his years of directness sure hadn’t prepared him for the depths of discomfort of this kind of conversation. He exhaled, then glanced up at her. “I’m sorry I’ve made things harder for you.”
“It’s okay.”
“Is it?” he pressed. “I’m serious. If you need me to fake an injury or something, and withdraw from the competition, then I will if that makes it easier for you.”
She hunched over, covering her face with her hands.
His heart knotted. “Bails? What is it? What can I do?”
She shook her head. “I know I’m tired, and everything tonight has been such a lot, but it’s this constant niceness you keep showing me that I don’t know what to do with. I don’t know how to cope with you right now.”
He was pretty sure the crack of pain inside was akin to what a heart felt like when it broke. He swallowed. Tried to speak. Produced only air. Took a swig of water and forced it past the boulders lining his throat. “I get it.” He cleared his throat, praying the wobbly rasp would stay away. “I’m sorry things are awkward. I’ll call them tomorrow and say I had an emergency and need to quit.” He managed a broken-sounding laugh. “That’ll give you time to heal anyway.”
“No!”
