CHAPTER SEVEN
As Paige stepped back to let him in, Christian got his second view of the Walker house. It felt quiet and more intimate tonight with only Paige at home.
He noted that her cheeks were beautifully flushed as he explained, “When I saw your grandmother and she asked me how the dancing had progressed today, I couldn’t lie to her. And then I asked both her and Emily if there was anything I could do to make it up to you—apart from trying harder tomorrow.”
“What did they say?”
“Your grandmother said to relax and consider tomorrow a brand new start. And then Emily suggested I pick up some Chinese takeout and bring it over as a peace offering. She said you
love
Chinese takeaway.” He grinned at her, pleased when she grinned back. “So, here I am with shrimp fried rice and sweet and sour chicken.”
“Which one of them suggested the DVD?”
“That was actually
my
idea. After we have dinner, I hope we can watch the movie so that I can get a few pointers from you.”
“You thought of everything, didn’t you?”
With her hair down and curling softly around her face, and her eyes bright with pleasure at getting to eat her favorite food and watch one of her favorite movies, it took every ounce of his self-control not to give in to kissing her.
“I hope so,” he said in a voice that held more emotion than he’d intended to reveal this quickly. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her away, so he followed that up with, “Will this work for you? Me coming over unannounced with food and a movie? Or would you rather spend the evening without me?”
“I’m glad you’re here,” Paige said without hesitation, and Christian breathed an inner sigh of relief. “Besides, how could I turn you down?” she asked, her eyes sparkling. “Chinese takeout is my favorite.”
“In that case,” he said, “how about we grab a couple of forks and eat directly out of the containers?”
“A man after my own heart,” she agreed with a smile as she pulled out two forks and led the way to the family room, which now looked more like Santa’s palace than a quiet sanctuary for adults.
“Did you do all of this?” Christian asked, looking around.
“No, my sisters and niece did. As you can see, we Walkers don’t do things by halves.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Because if today was anything to go by, I fully understand that you mean to kick my butt until I get this dance thing down. And, speaking of butts, I have to tell you that mine is killing me right now.”
“You’ll become a much better dancer than you were today,” Paige promised him, laughing at his joke. Though he was serious, given that every muscle in his body was screaming. “I’ll make
sure
that you do.”
Christian knew she was serious, too. It had been intriguing to watch her work today and to see just how much her work meant to her. She was an excellent teacher, even if things had seemed a little strained between them at times during the day.
However, as much as he might want to pretend otherwise, his intentions for coming over tonight hadn’t been entirely about the dancing. How could they be, when he found himself so drawn to Paige whenever they were in the same room? And when he couldn’t take his eyes off of her?
Their day together had made the attraction he felt for her only stronger. The dance studio was where Paige seemed at her most natural and confident, her every movement graceful, smooth, and elegant. Sexy, too, whether she knew it or not. She hadn’t even danced with him, but she’d been incredible all the same as she’d demonstrated how to perform each movement.
“Have a seat,” Paige said, moving over to the DVD player.
He was gripped by the need to simply be near her, which wouldn’t be easy if she picked a chair on the opposite corner of the room rather than the couch. On the other hand, he did have the food.
Christian almost laughed out loud at that thought. Here he was, a TV star and yet he was relying on a bag of Chinese takeout to ensure that he could get a seat close to Paige. Fortunately, his prayers were answered when Paige did sit beside him on the sofa, reaching out to help unpack the cartons of food.
They were both ravenous, and as they dug into the food, they talked easily. Paige’s walls, it seemed, were starting to come down.
He couldn’t have been more pleased.
When their conversation came around to Morgan’s career, he said, “Your sister must have taken you around a few movie sets before now.”
“Actually, Morgan was always off the island while she was doing makeup for movies, so we didn’t ever get a chance to see any set—or her, either—for lots of years. Far too many years, actually.”
“It’s never easy, being away from your family for work, no matter how glamorous the work looks from the outside,” he agreed. “I imagine it’s tough on Brian when Morgan is away.”
“Fortunately, she’s able to shoot her makeover show at the new studio on her property most of the time,” Paige told him. She studied his face for a moment and added, “You must be missing your own family terribly this Christmas.”
“I am missing them,” he said, “but at the same time, I don’t regret being here. I might not be with my own family, but it sure feels like I’ve landed in the middle of a really nice one.”
“Grams and my sisters are always so welcoming,” Paige agreed.
Didn’t Paige see that
she
was the one who made his breath come quicker from just looking at her? Couldn’t she see that
she
was the reason he would never regret coming here? Because if he hadn’t, he would never have met her, and even after having known her such a short while, he already knew she was everything he could ever have hoped for in a woman: talented and beautiful, patient and clever.
Simply
amazing
.
Paige put her chopsticks down to pick up the remote and click the play button to start the movie. “What’s your favorite scene?”
Christian found himself feeling more than a little embarrassed as he confessed, “Actually, I haven’t seen the whole thing. I researched the history of the movie, of course, and I have watched some of the dance sections to get a feel for them. But I was hesitant to watch the whole thing because I was afraid that watching it might make me more inclined to outright copy Fred Astaire’s mannerisms and inflections rather than putting my own spin on the character.”
Paige didn’t respond straight away, and Christian had the feeling that rather than immediately judging him for not having yet watched, she was actually mulling over his reasons.
“Are you sure you’d like to watch it for the first time with me?” she finally asked.
Christian nodded. “I am.”
“Even though you wanted to avoid seeing it before now?”
“There are some movies where, if I worked on the remake, it would probably make sense not to watch the film. But after working with you today, I’ve started to see that
Shall We Dance
probably isn’t one of them. And what better time to watch it than with an expert like you?”
Her mouth curved up a tiny bit at the corners right before she said, “I wouldn’t call myself an expert.”
Of course she wouldn’t. Paige was clearly the last person to ever sing her own praises. “How many times have you watched this movie?”
Paige paused before giving him the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen. One that actually stole his breath as she said, “Quite a few.” Her smile grew even bigger as she amended that to, “A few dozen, actually.”
“I expected the number to be big, but that is seriously impressive.”
“I know it might sound crazy,” she admitted cheerfully, “but I’m always happy to watch it again.” As the film began, she said, “The opening sequence doesn’t often get a lot of attention, but this lift is just perfect.”
With that, they settled deeper into the couch to watch the movie.
The styles of acting had changed a lot since
Shall We Dance
was filmed in the 1930s, and he could tell that Astaire had been brought up on stage rather than with a camera a few inches away capturing a close-up. The plot was pretty light, too, but was it any sillier than half the Hollywood blockbusters or romcoms being released? In fact, the deeper they got into the film, the more he realized just how delightfully whimsical and captivating the plot twists and turns were.
“This is such a good part,” Paige said, breaking in with another bit of commentary as Astaire launched into a dance number in the engine room of the steamship, every movement seeming to coordinate with the movement of the pistons. Christian had seen fragments of the sequence before, but now that he understood the context around it, its sense of style and timing were even more impressive.
Doing a good job in this role mattered more than ever now. Not only because he always strove to do better and better with each project, but also because it mattered so much to Paige. Christian could see the rapt attention on her face as she watched the film closely—at least when she wasn’t glancing over at him to see if he was taking it all in.
“It looks like there are many different types of dance going on in this,” Christian ventured.
Paige’s face lit up in a smile. “Well spotted. It was something Fred Astaire was trying to do at this stage of his career—blending tap, jazz, ballet. In fact, they had to bring in an extra ballet choreographer to help with that. These days, that blending is normal, but back then, it was something really special and unique.”
Christian would have known just how special it was from the animated way Paige spoke about it. Throughout, she kept looking like she wanted to get up from the couch and dance along with the film.
He felt a nice kind of camaraderie being here with her, something he hadn’t felt with another woman. It was as if the two of them were a unit, just them against…well, against all the dance steps that were to come, perhaps.
“Can I get you something to drink—a beer or a soda?” Paige asked.
“That would be great. Soy sauce always makes me thirsty.”
She put the movie on pause and went into the kitchen to grab some drinks. When she came back, she had also brought in a tray of Christmas cookies. “Emily has been baking up a storm, and there are cookies and truffles and squares for days.
Somebody
has to eat all this stuff, and after all the calories you burned off today, a few wouldn’t hurt.”
When they settled back down on the sofa this time, they were sitting a little closer together. Close enough that he couldn’t help but feel hyperaware of her—her breathing, her concentration, even just the simple fact that she was there with him.
Christian continued to watch the movie, with Paige providing a wonderful counterpoint to it, everything on the screen triggering some small reaction from her, whether it was drumming her fingers in time to the music or her tiny sounds of happiness as Fred Astaire delivered the key lines.
It felt so right to simply be curled up on the sofa with her enjoying a movie that she’d seen so many times she knew it by heart. Even more than that, it felt like
home
. Being here on Walker Island, in this big rambling old house with Paige Walker captivating him more and more with every moment that passed, was nothing less than perfect.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Dance practice went better the next day.
Much
better.
“You’re doing a great job, Christian. Watching the movie must have really inspired you last night.”
“The movie helped,” he agreed, “but I just so happen to have a great teacher, too.”
Now that they were actually dancing together, his posture had improved, his holds were so much better, and he could sustain them for much longer. She hardly had to remind him to change or fix anything today.
“For this next sequence, you’ll need to stay as close to me as possible.”
Christian looked down into her eyes and smiled. “I’ll do my best.”
When he smiled at her like that, it was hard not to get distracted and simply stare back at him like a love-struck girl. But every time her mind started to wander away from dancing, she reminded herself just how much there was for them to get through...and how little time they had.
Today, the plan was to work through a couple of sequences from the movie. It had been a leap of faith on her part that today would go better than yesterday had—well enough for them to actually be able to
dance—
but fortunately it had been the right decision. Even if they were soon both covered in sweat, breathing hard from the sheer effort of trying to do everything the dance required.
Something else was making it difficult, though: the two of them, pressed together, with Christian in his workout clothes and Paige in her leotard and tights. She had danced with many other partners, but it had never felt this intimate before. Not even, she was surprised to realize, with Patrice.
They worked alone in the studio until it almost seemed like the outside world didn’t exist, pushing ahead even when they both were exhausted. They danced until Paige finally looked at her watch and saw that it was long past dinnertime.
“We’ve been working really, really hard. We should probably call it a day.”
“Do you want to get something to eat?” Christian asked. “Takeout, maybe?”
If he hadn’t added the word
takeout
, Paige might not have agreed to it. Because after spending the entire day staring into his eyes as they danced—and working like crazy to keep her heart from fluttering faster from every moment she spent in his strong arms—she would have been worried that a dinner out meant more than it really did.
Yet
takeout
was the magic word that meant they were still nothing more than teacher and student. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. She felt that they were becoming friends.
And
friends
was—and would have to be—good enough for her.
* * *
They ended up back at her house again, this time with seafood and a copy of
Flying Down to Rio,
another Fred and Ginger movie from the 30s. Emily and Grams were home, but they were both too busy wrapping presents to do more than say hello.
“Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers look so natural together,” Christian said as they watched the two actors move effortlessly across the dance floor in the film. “It’s as if they’ve been dancing together forever.”