Page 19 of Someone to Tempt
Char looks as confused as I feel. I know Iris doesn’t like me, but the woman is a perfectionist, and I just proved I’m not going to embarrass her.
“Trade me out,” she continues, pointing across the room. “I’ll take that guy.”
The man in question is possibly a hundred and fifty years old, and he’s shuffling through the dance with a woman wearing brightly colored scrubs who looks to be in her mid-fifties.
“That’s Louis Johnson,” Char says. “He takes the class with his home health care aide.”
“Great, just my speed. Give him to me and let the aide dance with John Travolta here.”
“Is that John Travolta circaSaturday Night FeverorPulp Fiction? Because either one is a compliment.” I add a wink for good measure
Iris looks like she wants to kick me in the shin.
“I’m a beginner,” Iris says when Char shakes her head. “I need somebody who’s also a beginner.”
“If you don’t count clubbing in Vegas as everybody’s favorite groomsman and coordinator of bachelor parties, I’m also a dancing newbie.”
“You’ll be fine.” Char reaches out to pat Iris’s shoulder, but pulls back when Iris makes a sound that clearly resembles a growl low in her throat.
“Char, can you answer a question about the step ball change?” Janie calls from across the studio.
“Of course. Jake’s got you, Iris.” She glides toward Tom and Janie, graceful even when walking.
The words of encouragement she left in her wake aren’t going to convince Iris. But when I assume the starting position with my arms out, she steps into my embrace.
Ah, shit. I might not have reacted to the dance instructor, but my senses go haywire with Iris this close. Not a good sign.
“Relax,” I tell her. Both of us, really.
She only stiffens more. “Do not tell me what to do.”
“Iris, relax,” Char calls out. “Your shoulders are grazing your earlobes. Okay, people, let’s take it from the top.”
The music starts over, and I begin the steps. It only takes a few seconds for me to realize why Iris seemed so discombobulated by my ability to pick up the rhythm of the dance so quickly. Skylark’s dedicated mayor has two Sasquatch-sized left feet. Perfect Iris Dixon has zero rhythm.
She wants fun?
Oh, this is going to be fun.
9
IRIS
“It was awful.The opposite of fun. I’m incapable of having fun.”
I lower my head to my hands and lean forward on the park bench under the shade of the bright yellow leaves of a sycamore tree in Skylark’s town square. Sloane, who’s taken her lunch hour to meet with me after my disastrous dance class, rubs her hand along my back in soothing circles.
“You’re out of practice with fun. This morning was the start of something new. Give yourself time. It’s going to be great.”
I straighten and point to my chest, feeling defeated on every level. “I’m actually where fun comes to die. I suck at fun. Thefun sucker.”
Sloane taps a finger on her chin as she considers that. “We could get you a bubble machine.”
I groan. “This is serious.”
"Seriousfun," she clarifies.
"Seriously, I'm not at all fun."
