Page 45 of Positively, Penelope

Her face brightened. “Oh, I remember that one.” And then she laughed as the color in her cheeks deepened. “Though it’s been a while.”

“No worries at all.” His palms came up. “I’m only here to help, not be a critic.”

She made to stand, and he offered her his hand. With a momentary look of confusion, she stared at his open palm and then awareness dawned, and her eyes brightened before she slipped her fingers into his. The contact was simple. Expected. Nothing out of the ordinary, yet it was completely out of the ordinary for him. The only person’s hand he’d held in three years had been his daughter’s, but the feel ofher delicate, slender fingers sliding over his palm carried with it as odd a combination of familiar and new as longing and fear.

Was it odd, though? Or had he been living with the mixture for years now? Fighting hope for another chance. Another dream.

His hand tightened around hers, as hers did his, and with a little tug, he pulled her to standing. Something in the simple motion had him releasing her fingers as soon as he could. He brushed his palm against the side of his trousers.

“Thank you.” She smiled up at him, evidently as unaffected asheought to be.

He gestured toward her feet. “Your tapping, MissEdgewood.”

And after a moment’s hesitation, off she went, her pink slip-ons moving in a pattern against the stage floor, their soft bottoms barely making a sound.

He squatted down to observe more closely, the problem apparent almost from the first shuffle. “Your ankles are too tight.”

She came to a stop and burst out laughing. “Guys have said a lot of things to me, but that’s a first.”

He looked up at her, hoping his mock glare doused his waiting grin. “Very funny.” But even as he said it, the glimmer in her eyes brought out his own smile. “I might add you should bend your knees a little more also.”

“Do you say that to all the girls?” She winked. “Or just the inept ones?”

And he chuckled. “You are many things, MissEdgewood, but inept is not one of them.”

She stared at him a moment, as if gauging his sincerity. He paused on the notion. Was she often misrepresented as silly or stupid? He nearly groaned. Much like his initial thoughts of her. And in truth, he’d wondered at first how someone with so much enthusiasm and joy could also put a serious mind to task about the theater. But she’d proved him wrong about that and many other things.

“Okay, so . . . bent knees and loose ankles,” she repeated, looking down at her feet, though her smile remained in full bloom. “I should be used to weird-sounding commands by now. I’ve been in theater most of my life, but there are still times when I lose it like a junior high girl.” She looked back at him. “What do you mean byloose ankles?”

He stood and bent his knee so that his foot rose off the ground. Giving his knee a shake, his foot wobbled back and forth like one of those bobblehead dolls. “The control is in your feet and posture, not your ankles. A loose ankle allows your foot to move more quickly through the steps. Watch.” He went into a routine of shuffle ball-heel and then time step, repeating the movements a few times in order to demonstrate what he meant.

“That was wonderful,” she said, laughing, mouth wide in surprise. “Oh, Matt, and the way you grinned when you did it.” She waved a palm in front of her face. “Swoon alert. I could just picture you in pinstripes and a fedora doffed to the perfect tilt.” She released another sigh. “Oh, how I wish I could have seen you dance back in the days when you loved it so much.”

Her comment shook him. When helovedit so much? Past tense? But had he lost it? That love and thrill of dancing? His body nearly quaked to take another slide or touch of heel to toe.

She didn’t seem to realize his internal conflict.

“I’m determined to practice this now and show you my improvement later.” Her chin tilted up in challenge as a glint lit her eyes. “And just so you know, though my tapping is not up to par, you should see me waltz and quickstep. I got the highest marks in my class on the waltz and the instructor loved my shoes. The right pair of shoes can totally save your day, it just so happens.”

“Highest marks on the waltz, is it?” Her easy playfulness seemed to inspire his continued lunacy, especially with her face upturned and her smile beaming. “Show me then.”

Chapter10

Showhim?Penelope looked from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet, pausing only a moment to grin at the fact she’d seen him dance, and then back to his face. “Show you my waltz?”

He raised one of those infernally expressive eyebrows of his and she braced her hands on her hips. “Fine. I will. But it’s a two-person dance, so that means you’re going to have to dance too.”

The statement seemed to shock him, including his eyebrows, because they shot skyward with great speed. There was something extremely endearing about a befuddled Matthias Gray. She wasn’t exactly sure how she befuddled him, but there was no use in wasting the moment.

“You’renot afraid, are you, Mr.Gray?” She bent forward and offered him an exaggerated grin, playing his own words back to him.

His eyes narrowed as he examined her, and then he drew up to his full height, which was quite a bit taller than Penelope, and she wondered a bit how the whole waltz thing would work when the top of her head made it just under his chin. However, she’d witnessed a wild variety of dance pairings.

“I think I can manage it.”

“Good.” She wiggled her own brows and pulled her phone out of her pocket. “Now, which song?” Her finger slid over the screen. “Aha, I already have my Gene Kelly playlist up.” She skimmed through the selections.

“Your Gene Kelly playlist?”

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