Win Me Over (10 page)

Her feet went forward and back, side to side, and she turned this way and that. Suddenly she did several small steps backwards across the driveway. “This is where you would drag me across the floor,” she said breathlessly.

“Drag you?” His words were a whisper and she didn't stop; she turned right, left, arms back up in waltzing position. Her expression was so serene as she moved fluidly around him. Oh god, there was no way in hell he would ever get this.

He watched for another moment, completely enthralled by her. She had those damn yoga pants on again, and he could see the muscles in her thighs working with each step. The movement of her ass was going to put him in a trance. He forced his eyes back up to her face.

“A lift right here? Step … step … step.” She spun around a few more times. Had she just said “lift”? Bennett tried not to feel nauseous, the weight of his decision to dance with her hitting him full force.

She paused and bent back a little. “Death Drop there … and then back up. Step … step … step … together … twinkle … half turn … turn out … walk under … step … step … step.” She came close to him again, placing her hand once more on his face.

“And dip.” She grabbed him on each shoulder and leaned back; he reacted instantly, gripping her waist as her spine arched, her head thrown back, exposing her neck to him. She laughed and then looked up, eyes on his. “You did it. The end.”

He pulled her up with a jerk. “A warning would have been nice. I could have dropped you.”

“I knew you wouldn't.” Her chest rested against his, rising and falling with her deep breaths. “So what do you think?”

For a moment he couldn't speak at all, his thoughts lost in how beautiful she looked right now glancing up at him. Her smile began to fall a little at his lack of response. When she went to pull away he tightened his grip on her waist.

“It was … amazing, Callie. You were beautiful.”

She stared at him for a moment, her lips lifting at the corners. He wanted to kiss her like this, his arms full of her warm body. Then it dawned on him that next time he would have to dance
with
her. She'd memorized all of that, which meant he'd have to do the same. And figure out how to do it without looking like a complete fool.

“I can't imagine me doing any of that,” he said.

She grinned. “Well, luckily you have me. I've made it a little easier on you; I get to do most of the hard stuff.”

Still didn't settle his nerves. Not at all.

“Relax, Coach Bennett. I can feel your stress from here, and I want you to know it's going to be fine.”

He sighed, knowing that his tension was a lot more than stress. He reluctantly let her pull away. “Okay, let's try and do this.”

She situated his hands on her body exactly where she wanted them. One on her hip and the other snaking around her back near her breast. Gosh damn, this was going to be difficult in so many ways.

“I'm not going to start the music yet so I can teach you the first part. This is a waltz, so I'm going to count off in sets of six. Probably teach you six beats at a time. Now when I go down you need to watch me. Dancing tells a story. We have to make it believable. So look at my face and let your hand slide up to my temple as I go down.”

She was going to fucking kill him. Like he'd need to pretend to look at her lustfully when she was kneeling in front of him and after saying things like “go down.” But he did as she said, his fingers lingering near her hair as she let her hand slip down his chest and stomach. She counted the beat the whole way down. When she popped back up she jerked her head away and looked at the ground.

“Why'd you look away? I thought we were supposed to look at each other,” Bennett said, confused and frustrated.

“I
did
say that, and usually we will look at each other, but sometimes I'll look away. It's all emotion, sensuous, flirty. You'll get the feel of it. Promise. Now you look down in the other direction and then I spin away. As soon as my foot taps out you jerk your hand out to spin me back. Ready … go.”

He was already lost, watching in bewilderment as her body twirled away from him. “What?”

She sighed but smiled at him. A total teacher move, trying to be positive and not let frustration show. “Let's try it again.” Her hand was on his face once more; then she was sliding, jerking, spinning. This time he managed to put his hand out, grab hers, and pull her body back into him, but he knew it was on the wrong beat.

They repeated the same thing for nearly twenty minutes and still hadn't moved past those first twelve beats. The only thing he'd mastered was when to look away.

“Why don't we try it with the music, might help you to feel it.” She put them into position again, her fingers on his cheek, his hands on her hips. “I'll count six beats off when it starts and then I'll began to slip down on the second one. So basically we don't start moving until the second measure.”

He nodded, barely understanding what she meant.

She pointed the remote over his shoulder. The jazzy rhythm began and then she was counting. “One two three four five six, one two three four five six, look away, two three.”

She stopped and killed the music. “Okay, let's try that intro again.”

They did it about six more times. Then seven. By the tenth time her fingers trailing down his chest no longer felt sexy. He was irritated. He was pretty certain he was off beat every time, and the look on her face said she agreed. They moved on to the next part, where she spun away and he pulled her back. He would need years to get this entire dance right.

“Okay, good. Why don't we call it a night at that? I've thrown a lot at you and it takes some time to sink in,” she said.

“We haven't gotten very far.”

Her smile was tight. “It's an intense process. Doesn't really make sense to proceed until we get one part down. How about I come back Saturday?”

He thought about what he had going on, which was ridiculous because he knew damn well the answer was nothing. They had an away game tomorrow night, so he'd probably be sore, but there was nothing to be done for it except deal. “Okay. How about that afternoon. Like two or three.”

“Can't do that early. My shop closes at five. How about six?”

“Okay, that's fine.” He definitely didn't have Saturday night plans.

“You mind if I just leave the stereo here?” she asked.

“Yeah, sure. Might as well.”

He watched as she picked up her stuff, patted Misha on the head, and then looked back at him. “Well, good job, Coach Clark. I'll make a winning dancer out of you yet.”

She gave him a wink and then headed for her car. The mood had changed dramatically from when she'd arrived. God damn, he felt stupid. He knew what she was thinking right now, that she'd gotten herself into a mess by agreeing to be his dance partner. He didn't like to fail at things and he sure as hell didn't like to do it in front of a beautiful woman.

She waved over her steering wheel as she backed out and he did the same. One thing was clear: this was going to be hell. He was in store for a lot of hard work, and football season was not the right time for distractions. Maybe he'd made a mistake. He owed all of his attention to his guys and his assistant coaches. Between learning to dance and trying to keep his mind off his partner he was in trouble. Of course that might get easier after every practice. Turns out there was nothing sexy about dancing and after his horrible performance tonight he could only hope that she didn't decide he wasn't worth the time.

*   *   *

Callie placed the final pink cupcake into the giant box and gently shut the lid just as Lindsey came through the swinging kitchen door of Callie's Confections.

“Happy baby shower day,” Callie said.

“I'm so ready for it to be over,” Lindsey said. “I love Mel, but she's been so high maintenance lately. Is that normal for pregnant women?”

“I have no experience with pregnant women, but it sounds about right. If I was pregnant I'd want everyone taking care of me,” Callie said with a grin. “When is she due again?”

“Thanksgiving Day.”

“Seriously? That's funny. So you may be eating your turkey dinner in the hospital cafeteria.”

“Oh no, she's having a home birth.” Lindsey popped open the cupcake box and peeked inside.

“Home birth?” Callie asked. “Why would she do that?”

Lindsey shrugged. “It's kind of a thing these days, I guess. They have a midwife all lined up and everything. Of course if they felt they needed to, they'd go to a hospital.”

“That sounds terrifying. Then again, giving birth period sounds terrifying.”

“These are beautiful and they smell delicious,” Lindsey said as she inhaled deep.

“I hope everyone enjoys them.” Callie nodded to a box against the wall. “I loaded up all of the cake plates for you to display them on. I'll carry them out for you.”

“Thanks for doing that. I can't wait to put all of the decorations out.”

Callie had no doubt it would be beautiful. Anne and Lindsey had collaborated on the shower for Lindsey's sister, so there was no way it wouldn't be gorgeous. Between Anne's organizational and party-planning skills and Lindsey's ability to make anything look beautiful, Mel and her friends were in for a treat.

“Wish I could come. Between work and dance practice I don't think I'd have time.”

“That's okay. You don't really know Mel and I totally understand. How is dance practice going? Is the coach getting the hang of it?”

Callie sighed. “Our first time was Thursday. Let's just say I underestimated what it would take to make this happen.”

“That bad, huh?” Lindsey winced.

Callie put her hand on her hip. “I really don't understand how some people can't hear a rhythm. I mean, doesn't your body naturally
feel
it?”

“I think it's like anything else: For some people it comes naturally. For some it doesn't. Like creativity or athletics. I can't hit a baseball to save my life. Some people can't match colors together.”

“God, you're right.” Lindsey was so good at seeing things positively. She was a total peacekeeper and tended to make Callie feel overdramatic. “I really had to force myself from freaking out on him. It was just so irritating, I mean, I was teaching him the easiest part and he looked so clueless.”

Lindsey gave her an understanding smile. “I have faith in you. I'm sure he's frustrated, too. Maybe try a new angle. There's more than one way to skin a cat.”

“Gross. But a good idea.” Callie reached over and picked up the box. “Let's get your car loaded up.”

At closing time Callie rushed home to take a quick shower—sans hair wash, her curls would look crazy if she didn't take the time to style them—and then shuffled through her dresser. She'd had trouble moving correctly in her tennis shoes, so she donned her black Capri leggings, a tank top, and her nude T-strap character heels. Once her hair was in a ponytail she grabbed her favorite studio jacket and headed out to Bennett's house.

The sun had been warm that afternoon, the sky a deep blue, and she had a good feeling about today. Lindsey was right—as she so often was—that Callie just needed to be cool and try something new. She wasn't quite sure what that was yet, but it would come to her. Anyone was teachable. She hoped.

She repeated that to herself as she pulled into Bennett's driveway. The garage door was open, but he wasn't outside, so she went up to the front door and rang the bell. Misha's yapping could be heard from the other side.

A moment later he opened and immediately Misha dashed out and put her paws up on Callie's legs just as she'd done before. Callie rubbed behind the dog's ears. “Hello again, sweet thing.”

When Callie stood up straight she met eyes with Bennett. He looked tired, but he gave her a tight smile. “Hey.”

“Hi, you ready? I'm feeling good about today.” She grinned. Best to start throwing the optimism and positivity out early, she figured.

He nodded. They could do this. She glanced at his athletic shorts and sweatshirt. Gracious, the man looked hot in anything he had on. His legs were incredibly muscular, as if he still trained as a professional.

“You must have a gym in there, Hercules.”

He looked surprised at her comment but smiled as he followed her gaze down to his calves. “I do. It's in the basement.”

“Nice. Let's teach those sexy legs how to dance.”

He shook his head and followed her out to the driveway. “We can try. Last time was brutal. I was betting you might not even come back.”

She turned and put a finger into his firm chest. “From this point on we only think positive thoughts, Bennett. Got me? And I can't believe you doubted me.”

“I know that I was terrible.”

“Yeah, you kind of were. But that's normal. When's the last time you took a dance class, Coach Clark?”

He gave her a hooded stare.

“Exactly, so don't be so hard on yourself.” She picked up her remote off the garage floor and met him in the middle of the driveway. “I know this isn't easy, but we'll get there. Trust me.”

“Trying,” he said, but she wasn't entirely convinced. He already sounded defeated, which wasn't really a good sign, but she couldn't really blame him. If he'd been trying to teach her football she would feel the same way.

They got to work, starting where they'd left off last time, which was, unfortunately, at the beginning. She had them do it a few times without the music, and to her delight he remembered everything.

“Good! Maybe it just needed to marinate, huh?” She laughed. “Okay, with the music this time.”

A half hour flew by as they repeated the intro over and over. Callie was sick of counting but delighted with their small progress. She took a long drink of water and then clapped her hands together. “Okay, let's move on to the next part. After you pull me back from your left side we're going to do a similar motion toward your front.”