“Yes, ma’am.”
She chuckled and adjusted the position of his hand on her waist.
And so it continued. They moved, she reminded him to count, and they twirled. She changed songs, and she coaxed him to stand a little closer and to hear the music’s beat.
He hesitated, then curved his hand around her waist a little more firmly. Right away, she was aware of his height. Of the way his hand warmed her skin through the thin fabric of her dress.
Looking into his eyes, she smiled. “You’re doing great. We’re dancing, Dylan.”
“Yeah?” He actually looked pleased.
“Yep.”
“I’m still afraid of stepping on your toes.”
“If you did, it wouldn’t be the first time.” She smiled. “And look up at me. Your feet are doing just fine.”
After another ten minutes, she said, “This will be our last pass across the floor. I’ve already kept you fifteen minutes late.”
He looked so surprised, he stumbled. “No way.”
“I’m serious. Now focus.”
He laughed, then spun her in a circle. Surprised, she started laughing too. “What was that for?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because this has been a lot more fun than I thought it was going to be. I needed this tonight, and I would’ve never guessed it.”
He was right. She’d been so tired and tense, but now she felt exhilarated, almost like she used to back when she was a teenager. “I was just thinking the same thing.”
“Yeah?”
“It was a long day. But this? Well, you ended it on a good note. Thanks.”
Dylan’s eyes lit up just as the front door jangled.
Surprised at the late visitor, Shannon turned her head to see who it was.
Then she kind of wished she hadn’t, because Traci walked right in, her blue uniform bringing a dose of reality to the room.
“Shannon, what’s going on? Wait, Dylan, is that really you?”
Dylan glanced over her shoulder, blinked, then slowly grinned. “Hey, Lucky.”
His voice had lowered an octave.
Shannon turned to face her sister, who was still dressed for work, in her dark jeans, boots, button down, jacket, and her badge still in its chain around her neck. She also had her shoulder-length straight hair in a neat ponytail.
And . . . she was staring at Dylan like he was a perpetrator.
“What’s going on?” Traci asked.
“We’re finishing up a lesson,” Shannon said.
“You’re taking dance lessons from my sister?” Looking at how close they were standing to each other, Traci’s eyes narrowed. “Private dancing lessons?”
Dylan took a step away from Shannon, like she’d contracted rabies.
Leaving Shannon more confused than even before.
CHAPTER 5
“Opportunity dances with those already
on the dance floor.”
—H. Jackson Brown Jr.
Traci was staring at the two of them like they were fooling around behind her back. Shannon didn’t know whether to tease her about that outraged expression or apologize—since she kind of had been feeling something toward Dylan that had nothing to do with dance steps.
But just as she was about to say something . . . Dylan held up his hands like he an innocent man who’d been caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. “I didn’t know Shannon was your sister, Traci.”
Why was he apologizing? And what did it matter if she was Traci’s sister or not? Feeling thoroughly confused, she said, “So, I’m guessing y’all know each other.”
“We were just assigned to be partners,” Traci explained, her expression hard.
“This doesn’t mean anything. I only have three more lessons left.”
It doesn’t mean anything. He only had to be here three more times.
Well, that put her in her place, though she wasn’t exactly sure what place that was. Feeling kind of like she just got dumped in the middle of a dance, she said, “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand how these dance lessons interfere with y’all working together.”
“It doesn’t and it won’t,” Dylan said.
Shannon studied her sister. “Traci?”
After a pause, Traci blinked . . . and then turned shame-faced. “Sorry. I’m not used to having my personal and professional lives intersect like this. It caught me off guard, walking in to see Dylan with his arms around you and “Come Away with Me” playing.”
Dylan winked at Shannon. “My arms were absolutely not around you, were they? They were holding you properly and with the right amount of tension, too.”
The comment made her chuckle. “That’s right. We’ve, uh, been working on noodle arms tonight.”
Traci smiled as she tossed her backpack toward the corner of the room. “Dylan, you do look better. Boy, maybe I should have been dancing tonight. I could have used some stress relief.”
Now that she wasn’t feeling so defensive, Shannon noticed that her sister didn’t just look surprised about her and her partner. She looked exhausted. “Traci, are you all right?”
“Yeah.” She rolled her shoulders, obviously trying to lessen some tension. “Sorry. It’s been a heck of a day, hasn’t it, big guy?”
Dylan nodded. “You could say that.”
“Did Dylan tell you how he took down that perp and almost got shot?” Traci asked.
Feeling more and more confused, Shannon shook her head. “No. We . . . we didn’t talk about work.”
Traci raised her eyebrows. “You didn’t tell her about how you almost got shot, Dylan?”
“No. And I’m fine.”
“Not really,” she retorted. “Your arm was grazed.”
“Grazed?” Shannon whispered.
Both of them ignored her.
“It wasn’t grazed.” His voice was hard. “It’s just a little banged up. No big deal.”
While Shannon was gaping at the two of them and trying to process shot, grazed, and a little banged up, Traci fired off another comment.
“I heard the lieutenant tell you to go get checked out. Did you?”
“There wasn’t any reason to do that. There was no way I was heading to the hospital. I’m fine.”