based on a fairy tale.
“How about the male perspective on this whole thing?” he asked, walking toward the two women.
Jenny looked up and saw him, then blushed. When she ducked her head she looked so much like her sister. A younger version, just as innocent, just as willing to lead with her heart.
“Mr. Steele,” Jenny said and stepped away from her sister. “I’m horrible at this. Cynthia is trying to help me, but I don’t guess I’m ever going to get it.”
“I think you’re doing very well.” He stepped in front of her and held out his arms. “May I have this dance?” he asked as the CD quieted for a couple of seconds before moving to the next selection.
“I, um…” Jenny glanced at her sister who nodded encouragingly, then smiled shyly at Jonathan. “Okay. I’ll try not to step on your toes.”
“I’ll do the same.”
His comment earned him a quick laugh, then she sobered as she mouthed the one-two-three count of the waltz.
Jonathan waited until she was on “one” then began to move. He took small steps, using their joined hands to give her a sense of the direction they would go next. Jenny stumbled twice, then seemed to catch on to the dance.
They waltzed around the room together, developing a rhythm that nearly matched that of the music. Her young face screwed up with concentration as she focused on staying in step.
As they turned, he caught sight of Cynthia. Some of her tentativeness had fled. Warmth and gratitude took its place. He realized that by taking the time to dance with her sister, he’d found his way back into Cynthia’s good graces. He wanted to be cynical and remind her that he was far from a nice guy, but he found himself pleased by
“Don’t look at your feet,” Cynthia called.
Jenny jerked up her head, then stumbled and would have fallen if he hadn’t caught her. She mumbled an embarrassed apology.
“Don’t worry about it,” Jonathan said. “How about if you watch for a few minutes and catch your breath?”
“I’d like that,” the teenager said.
He turned to Cynthia and held out his hands. “Care to provide a demonstration?”
Cynthia walked over to stand in front of him. She wore jeans and a sweatshirt, not a ball gown. Whatever makeup she’d put on in the morning had faded and her hair was slipping free of its ponytail. Even so, he thought she was as lovely as she’d been the first night they’d met.
He took her in his arms and they began to dance.
They moved easily together, swaying and turning in time with the music. While he’d held Jenny at arm’s length, he drew Cynthia up against him so they were nearly touching. He could feel the heat of her body. Her breasts were close enough to tease him and he longed to have their interested audience gone so that he could lean down and kiss her.
“The key is to relax,” Cynthia called to her sister. “Let the man pick the direction. Shift your weight after each step and you’ll be able to pivot in any direction.”
The lesson continued for nearly an hour, with Jenny dancing with Jonathan again. This time she was able to look at him almost as much as she looked at her feet.
“Excellent,” Cynthia said when the CD ended. “You’re going to be wonderful tomorrow night.”
“I hope so,” Jenny said doubtfully. “At least the boys won’t be any better than me.” She bit her lower lip. “What if none of them want to dance with me?”
“They will,” Jonathan said. “You’re going to be the prettiest girl there, which is both good and bad. Pretty girls can be scary. But you’re also funny and nice, which makes guys feel comfortable. I think your big problem is going to be deciding who you want to dance with.”
Jenny blushed again, but this time from pleasure. “You really think so?”
“I know so.”
She laughed, then hugged Cynthia close. “I hope Jonathan is right.”
“I’ll bet he is,” her sister told her.
Lucinda walked into the living room. She’d pulled on a coat over her uniform. “Mr. Jonathan, I put dinner in the refrigerator. It needs forty minutes at 350.” She winked at Cynthia. “I don’t know why I’m telling him. As if he’s going to be the one to heat up the food.” She looked at Jenny. “Are you ready to go?”
“Yes.” Jenny slipped off her high heels, then walked over to her backpack. She put on the loafers waiting there then shrugged into her jacket and tucked her pumps into a shoebox.
“Are you sure about taking Jenny home?” Cynthia asked. “I can do it.”
“No.” Lucinda dismissed her with a wave. “I’m going to an early show at the movies and your house is right on my way. Come on, little one. I’ll give you advice about boys on the way over.”
They said their goodbyes and left. When Jonathan and Cynthia were alone, they both shifted awkwardly in the suddenly quiet room.
“I’m sorry about what I said the other day,” she said quickly while avoiding his gaze. “I was judging you and that’s wrong. Despite your lack of relationship with your brother, you must still be in shock over his death. It’s going to take time to come to terms with that. You’ve also had to get used to the idea of being a father. Most men have about nine months to absorb that information, but you’ve had less than a month. It makes sense that you need more time.”
He stared at her. She seemed fascinated by the CD player, studying it with an intensity of a scientist viewing a new form of life.
“How can you make excuses for me?” he asked. “I was cruel to you.”
“You were in shock.”
“I was out of line and I’m sorry.” Like a wounded animal, he’d lashed out. For as long as he lived he would never forget her stricken expression when he’d told her he wasn’t interested in playing house. “You were right about a lot of things you said a few days ago. About Colton.” He hesitated. “I don’t know what I’m going to do about him, but I don’t want to repeat my father’s mistakes.”
She finally looked up at him and smiled. “I’m glad.”
Her hazel-green eyes glowed with adoration. It was something he didn’t want to see there because it made it too easy for him to imagine how amicable she would be to almost any suggestions. And since meeting her, he’d had several in mind.
“Dance with me,” he said before he could stop himself.
Instead of answering, she pushed a button on the CD player, then adjusted a knob. Soft music filled the room. She moved toward him and he took her in his arms.
She felt so right next to him, he thought, wishing she were older and more experienced. If she were more in his league he wouldn’t have to feel so guilty about his desire. Yet if she was different, he wasn’t sure he would want her as much.
But the scent of her intoxicated him and made him want more. He rubbed his thumb against her palm as they danced. She shuddered.
“Hell,” he muttered, then abandoned the waltz and drew her close. They were barely moving in the center of the living room. Her breasts pressed into his chest, burning him, making him ache. His arousal was as instant as it was hard. Her stomach barely touched him there and he wanted to press against her-as if that would ease his need.
“Talk about something,” he commanded, desperate for a distraction.
“What?” Her voice sounded dreamy. “Oh. Okay. Well, Colton had a doctor’s appointment today. It was just a well-baby checkup. Fortunately he’s been healthy since birth. He’s right where he should be as far as height, weight and development. The doctor agreed with me on starting him on solid food pretty
