Page 86 of Positively, Penelope

She batted her eyes up at him and took Iris into a modified, kid-friendly swing dance. Iris only giggled and Penelope allowed Iris to spin her around with or without rhythm, but Penelope’s skills still showed. Her fluid movements. Her style. The way her body naturally moved to the music.

The next song came on. He’d heard it before. What was it? “Dance with Me Tonight”?

“Iris, I think we should get your dad dancing, don’t you?”

“Yes, yes!” She sounded thrilled, hopping up and down, hands clapping.

Penelope started snapping to the beat, rocking side to side as she watched him through narrowed eyes. “Of course, he might be too afraid to try.” She tsked and shot Iris a wink. “What a shame.”

Iris giggled. “Da’s not afraid.”

Well, right now Matt wasn’t too certain about the accuracy of his sweet girl’s statement. His heart hammered in his chest like a conga drum, but the rest of his body responded to Penelope’s request before his mind fully caught up. He stepped forward.

“Ooh, he’s pushing up his shirtsleeves. This looks serious.” Her eyes gleamed alive, drawing him another step forward. “Probably a good idea to keep it serious, Mr.Gray. You don’t want to have too much fun.”

Yes, he wanted this. All of it. For himself and Iris. Wherever the story led. He at least needed to try.

“That’s quite enough, MissEdgewood.” He leaned in and caught her hand, pulling her into him. “How’s your Lindy Hop?”

Her mouth opened with her smile, and as they moved in time with the classic swing dance, Iris twirled alongside them, pausing at times to clap her hands and laugh.

Penelope took his cues, giving a twirl here, swivel there, rock step, triple, and a swing out.

“You’re smiling an awful lot, Mr.Gray,” she said breathlessly as he spun her around. “Almost as if you enjoy dancing or something.”

His only response was a grunt, which likely looked ridiculous while wearing a grin he couldn’t shake.

“It makes me think about that favor of mine.”

They rocked back from each other as he watched her face. “I believe there was some dessert involved first.”

“Trust me, the dessert will be worth it.”

Pulling her into a swing out was his only response.

“You know Jamie Carson?”

“Mark’s son? From the theater troupe?”

She nodded, continuing to keep in step with him. “His dance instructor broke his hip and Jamie has a performance coming up for college placement and possible scholarships.”

Matt nearly lost his step. “Penelope.”

“I know you used to teach dance.”

One of his brows rose without his consent.

“Don’t give me that look. I’ve been going through the archives for two months. I’ve seen the flyers and the class list.” She drew close on her next rock step, one of her eyebrows hitched high. “And the awards.”

His frown won for a second, until she slid back into his arms again, dragging the intoxicating scent of mangos with her.

“Four weeks,” she added, her hand in his, her gaze pleading. “That’s all. Twice a week.”

The music bled into a slower song and they shifted their style.

“You Were Meant for Me,” sung by Gene Kelly. He kept one hand at her waist, the other palm pressed into hers. She naturally closed the distance, swaying to the music, those eyes of hers imploring.

“I think you need to do this, Matthias.”

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