“Bring it on.”
When he’d asked her to bring it on yesterday, he hadn’t actually realized just what she’d be bringing. And while the music might point to God, he wasn’t feeling saintly as she slid her hands down him while standing behind. According to the production notes, he’d be wearing a James Bond-like suit, while she was wearing a gold dress as his Bond girl. She’d slide her hands down his front in time to the music, then spin under his leg while he’d pretend to look for her, and she’d arch away. His search for his Bond girl was another hint at man’s search for God, although he wasn’t sure how clear that would be in this dance.
After that, they’d then start the proper tango sequence, legs in and out in precise movements. Already in practice he’d accidentally kicked her once, and she’d trodden on his toe when he hadn’t moved as quickly as he should. And while he was filled with regret at kicking her, she’d waved it off, reminding him their bodies were but tools of the trade. At least he hadn’t stepped on her toe again, which seemed to be better. And at least in this routine they were wearing shoes.
Their moves echoed some of the words, with movements that suggested swimming and walking, stars and more. Bailey’s tango included some fun lifts, and she kept reminding him that the tango was all about looking strong, confident, with sharp angles and a sense of strength and fight for dominance. He enjoyed watching various examples of other performances, and could understand why people thought this dance was sexy. He just hoped her dad wouldn’t be too concerned. He seemed way more conservative than most Christians he’d met.
Whatever. Luc enjoyed their dance, even though there was something bittersweet knowing this was the last dance he’d be doing with her. His favorite part of their routine was near the end, when she’d leap backwards into his arms, he’d catch her, then spin her around to finish with her facing him with their hands clasped high above their heads, his face tilted until they touched noses. James Bond hadn’t dominated his girl; they were partners, equal. He understood the story being told now, but was sorely tempted to turn the nose touch into something more. But he couldn’t. Not with Ella and her posse standing guard. He’d just have to wait until Sunday.
They finally finished, and Ella and the crew left, and he took another drink. “Did you want to rehearse the contemporary again?”
“Oh, good idea. Yes, we should.”
“Want to get something to eat first?”
Her nose wrinkled. “I think I’d rather eat after. I don’t like dancing on a full stomach.”
She had zero stomach to begin with, her abs more impressive than his. For a moment he wondered how much her previous eating disorder had affected her, whether it still did, but he’d seen her eat food. He should probably talk with her and to her therapist and see how he could support her. Ballet wasn’t the only sport where athletes abused their bodies, which was why he’d made it his personal mission to make sure she ate well. After all, she had to keep her strength up. “Grab a snack then, and we’ll do the dance, then I’ll take you out for dinner.”
“Okay.”
It was fun switching up the intensity of the tango with the more languid movements of the contemporary. To feel almost effortless as they worked to create poetry with their bodies working together. At least, that’s what it seemed like to him. Bailey was still noticing details, finding things to fine-tune. She wondered aloud whether the starting sequence was too much for a family-friendly show, and he’d assured her it was fine.
“It’s not like we’re rolling across the floor in each other’s arms.”
Her eyes widened, and part of him was tempted to ask her to tweak the dance and include that. But she was already conscious of their nearness. Just as he was.
“I think my dad would have a heart attack if that happened.”
“Is he really that concerned?”
Her gaze left his. “Let’s just say he had some friends contact him about the samba, and when I spoke to him, he was not amused.”
Luc winced. “I’m sorry. Did you explain the dress thing was an accident?”
“Of course I did, but my father has always been a little funny about things like that. My costume probably didn’t help either.”
“It sounds like this week’s costumes will be more tame.” She had a white floaty number for Midnight, and a gold slinky dress with a thigh-high split for the other.
“At least there’s less chance of a wardrobe malfunction.” She winced. “Did I tell you the wardrobe assistants were so apologetic?”
No, she hadn’t. There were a few secrets this woman kept. But that was part of his reasoning in taking her out for dinner. He loved everything that he knew so far, and wanted to get to know more about this beautiful woman who fascinated him. It seemed weird to think there was a time not so long ago when he hadn’t known her at all.
After a few more tweaks they completed the rehearsal, then took a cab to a quiet restaurant Dan had mentioned as having good seafood. But Luc hadn’t shared his plans with anyone. He wanted now to be between them, without observers. And just like other times when they’d gone out in their hoodies, nobody recognized him or her.
Which meant they could relax. Could laugh and smile, and he could stare across the candle and drink in her beautiful eyes. They might not have kissed yet, but it would be soon. Like, maybe Sunday. The second the show finished.
He broke the connection, glancing down at his plate of seafood ravioli. He’d normally be bulking up at this time of year, getting in the reserves needed before the hockey season began. Despite what Luc had said to Dan a week or so ago, he didn’t think his trainer would be too impressed by how much Luc was shredding. Next week he’d go back to Winnipeg, back to real life, and this would be over. His stomach tightened. How could he lose this?
“Luc? Are you okay?”
He loved her sweet concern. Loved how she always looked out for others. Loved her bright and enthusiastic joy and playfulness. Loved that she loved God. In every way they seemed a great match. And he was itching to get to Sunday night—after the final performance—and finally show her all that lived in his heart.
“What are you thinking about?”
“You.” His gaze lowered to her mouth then up again. “Wondering what we’ll do when this show is done.”
She nodded. “I can’t believe that this time next week we’ll be back at home.”
“And figuring out how we’ll make this work.”
She bit her lip. “How are we going to make this work?”
“Like this,” he said. “Spending time together. You still promised to come to one of my games, remember?”
“Only one,” she teased.
“The first of many.”
She smiled. “We’ll see.”
Oh, he loved this sweet tease of hers. Loved her smile, and the way it seemed to light sparkles in her eyes. “You’re so beautiful,” he blurted.
“Luc.”
“What?”
