Maggie hadn’t told her family about her newfound passion. While she and her partner Miles racked up wins and were the top couple at the Booker White Dance Studio, her grades suffered. Although the studio paid for costumes, training, entry fees and hotels, she was responsible for paying her other travel expenses. And in those two years, she spent part of her funds allocated for extra college expenses on dance competitions.
That’s when Billy had intervened. He’d convinced her that an activity she had to keep from her family wasn’t healthy; she’d dropped out of dance, focused on school and hadn’t looked back.
Until now.
Her grin was pure joy as members of the class started to trickle in, their excitement warring with nervousness—exactly the same way she felt.
Seth greeted them at the door before directing them to Maggie. The class signup sheet had been filled weeks ago and the mix of couples was more eclectic than she’d imagined.
After checking in newlyweds and married couples of all ages, Maggie looked up to the next couple in line.
Holy cow.
The Native American man standing before her was breathtaking on a purely physical level. Shoulder-length black hair. Sharply defined facial features. His brilliant white smile set off his golden coloring to perfection. And his eyes. A stunning shade of blue. He wore a sleeveless T-shirt that revealed ripped biceps, triceps and forearms. When she met his gaze, he seemed amused by her blatant once-over and she blushed deeply.
The young girl with him, however, wasn’t amused. “I’m Raven White Feather.”
Maggie’s gaze winged between them. Father and daughter? Although this beautiful man looked a little young to have a teenager. Feeling unnerved by her immediate and unexpected attraction to the man, she was happy to refocus on the girl. “Welcome, Raven.” She checked her name off the list, but noticed her companion’s name had been left blank. “And who will you be partnered with?”
“This is my uncle.”
The man offered his hand and a smile. “Jon White Feather.”
“I’m Maggie Buchanan.”
“Buchanan?” he repeated, retaining hold of her hand longer than polite. “Any relation to Eden?”
“Yes. She’s married to my brother, Billy. How do you know Eden?”
“Eden and I palled around for a few years. I forget Spearfish is such a small town. I’m surprised we haven’t crossed paths before now since your brother Billy and my brother Jim are partners in Feather Light. This is Jim’s daughter.”
She smiled at Raven, touched by the way she leaned back when her uncle squeezed her shoulders. “You guys go ahead and fill out your nametags.”
A rancher and his wife from Sundance were the last couple to arrive.
Seth looked up from fiddling with the sound system. “You spent extra time with those two students. Any problems?”
“No. They know my brother and sister-in-law. Everyone on the list is here.”
“Let’s get started.”
She stepped in front of the group. “Good evening, everyone. Welcome to Couples Dancing 101. My name is Maggie Buchanan and I’ll be one of your instructors for this three-week session.
“Why am I qualified to teach dance classes? Not only did I dance ballet, tap, jazz and modern during my formative years, I danced competitively in college in the American style of ballroom dancing. What does that mean?” She paused. “Lots of blisters and calluses from hours upon hours of practice.”
Muted laughter encouraged her to continue.
“That’s not what we’re expecting out of you, but we will be teaching several different dances.”
Jon raised his hand before she could ask for questions.
It figured. “Yes?”
“Can you explain what you mean by competitive ballroom dancing?”
“To be a competitor in the American rhythm style, a professional dancer is paired with an amateur and that couple is judged on five different dances. The professional, such as Seth here, must be employed full-time as a dance instructor. Someone like me, while having a dance background, is considered the amateur because dancing or teaching dance isn’t my main source of income. But it is a source of joy.” Maybe that’d been too corny. Her cheeks heated and she broke eye contact with the captivating Jon White Feather.
Seth took the floor. “I’m Seth Fordham and like Maggie said, I’m a professional dancer. I moved home to South Dakota last year and I run a dance studio in Rapid City. My background is in theatrical dance. I’ve performed with traveling musical productions in the U.S. and abroad, as well as living every dancer’s dream of performing on Broadway. My career was cut short by a freak accident and after two years of rehab, I decided to share my love of dance by teaching.” Seth hip-checked Maggie. “And I’ve finally convinced my lovely Maggie here to jump back into the world of competitive dance as my partner.”
Again, Maggie felt Jon’s eyes on her. In fact, he’d kept his focus on her the entire time Seth had been speaking, but she hadn’t dared look his way—difficult as that’d been—because the man defined distraction of the best kind.
“Any more questions?” Seth asked.
No one spoke up.
“Good. Then let’s get started,” Maggie said. “Tonight we’ll begin with the basic jitterbug. Seth and I will first demonstrate the dance at a normal speed. Then we’ll slow it down and break it down, step by step. So gather in a circle. This first part is easy because all you have to do is watch.”
Seth turned on the music. He took Maggie’s hand and they automatically walked together as if they’d stepped onto the competition floor. Seth had chosen “In the Mood” and they stuck to basic steps, adding in a few turns, but no double hops, double cuts or double twists.
When the song and dance ended, applause rang out.
Seth spun her into a curtsey and he took a bow.
“Now we’ll break it down. First thing you’ll notice is how we hold our hands.”
After the demonstration, the female newlywed asked, “Does it matter who’s leading in how you hold hands?”
“For the sake of simplicity,” Seth said, “let’s assume the men are in the lead. So guys, hold your hands like this.”
Grumbling from the women.
“Ladies,” Maggie interjected, “I’m an equal rights supporter, but in this case, Seth is in charge of showing the male steps, and I’m tasked with teaching the female partner steps because it’ll be easier. And remember, just because a man has the lead on the dance floor, doesn’t grant him the right to retain control off the dance floor.”
Several women laughed and nudged their partners.
Maggie’s gaze snagged Jon’s. Everything about him said man in charge, all the time. Normally men like that didn’t appeal to her, but seeing him so sweet and funny with his niece intrigued her—beyond the fact he was such a gorgeous male specimen.
She and Seth went through the steps slowly, then had the students perform the steps with them and finally on their own. They wandered through the group. If a couple was struggling, Maggie would dance with the man while the woman watched, then Seth would dance with the woman while the man watched. Usually when the couple was put back together, their technique had improved.
When they reached Raven and Jon, she heard them arguing in low tones. “You two do not look like you’re having fun. Anything we can help with?”
Raven pointed at her uncle. “Yes. He keeps doing it wrong. He steps too close and then too far back.”
“Someone wasn’t paying attention when the instructors said the men were supposed to lead,” Jon said tersely.
Seth intervened. “Show us the problem.”
Jon held out his hands and Raven snatched them. The first few movements were decent, but then Jon completely lost the rhythm.
“Hold on a second. Watch us.” Seth took Maggie’s hands. “See what we’re doing with our arms and our feet?” She and Seth demonstrated. “Keep it smooth and tight.”
Jon had crossed his arms over
his chest. He didn’t look belligerent, just frustrated. “Isn’t that what I was doing?”
Maggie, Raven and Seth all said, “No.”
When Seth danced with Raven, she followed his lead without issue.
Jon sighed and lightly nudged his niece. “Looks like I’m the one with two left feet, eh? You sure you want me for your dance partner, Raven?”
His amused resignation had Maggie stepping forward to reassure him. “Let’s see if I can help.” She took Jon’s hands and they were face to face. And what a face it was.
Jon stared at her, as if he liked what he saw, and tightened his grip when she attempted to retreat. “Is this too close?” he murmured.
“For dancing? Yes.”
He flashed an unrepentant grin. “Guess I wasn’t thinking about dancing.”
Me either. “So, Mr. White Feather—”
“Jon. If I’m gonna be stomping on your feet, call me Jon.”
Such a charmer. “Okay, Jon. Start with your right foot. Step. Together. Good. Now, step back. No. Stop. You don’t have to alternate feet.”
He froze. “I don’t?”
“No.” When their eyes met, her belly dipped. “Now, try it with Raven.”
She turned and addressed the class, grateful for a diversion from the engaging man. “Let’s add faster music.”
She and Seth wandered through the couples separately. Most had mastered the basic steps. When Maggie glanced over to see Jon and Raven’s progress, she half expected that once the music began their rhythm issues would work out. But music had made it worse.
Raven looked ready to cry. Jon looked defeated. Not good.
Seth caught her eye and they headed back to help.
“Heya, teach, back so soon?” Jon said nonchalantly. “I thought I had the hang of it until that pesky music screwed me up.”
“Have you tried counting to keep the beat? One, two, three, four?” Seth asked.
“Of course.”
“Let’s see how you’re keeping time.” Maggie clasped Jon’s hands, feeling that magnetic pull again. “Bring your partner toward you on every other beat. Like this.”
Jon tried it, but he kept coming in a beat late, on the third beat, instead of the second. Every time.
She bit back a groan. He might be a fascinating combination of self-deprecating and charming, but the man could not keep time.
Raven threw up her hands. “See? I told you. It’s not me, Uncle Jon. It’s you.”
“I’ll remind you, darlin’ niece, you roped me into this class. And I warned you I was sadly lacking in dancing skills,” he said tightly.
“But dancing is about rhythm. That should be easy for you. Don’t you count when you’re playing?”
“Yeah, but it’s not the same. I don’t think about it. I just do it.”
“Excuse me,” Seth said. “Playing what?”
“The drums.”
Maggie’s jaw dropped. “You play the drums?”
“Yep.” Jon’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you so shocked?”
“Because you have absolutely no sense of rhythm.”
Jon threw back his head and laughed. “Doll face, you are the first woman who’s ever said that to me.”
Chapter Three
Maggie blushed.
Raven said, “Eww, Uncle Jon!”
Seth smirked. But he rallied to Jon’s defense. “Regardless, Mr. White Feather, it’s obvious you don’t have rhythm when it comes to dancing. So for now, it’s best if I work with Raven.”
Bonus. That’d pair him with the very sexy Maggie Buchanan for the remainder of class and Jon was all over that.
“…and you will watch us and learn.”
Jon’s gaze snapped to Seth. “Excuse me? That sounded like I’ve been benched.”
“Only briefly. For tonight.”
He looked at Maggie, but she’d floated off to help another couple.
So Jon had to stand there, propped against the wall like some second stringer. Studying another guy’s feet, arms, hips and ass moving was fucked up on several levels. He’d never get this formal dancing shit, which was why he’d always limited his dancing to the slow type or the mattress type.
His focus strayed to Maggie, performing some cha-cha move that shook her ass enticingly. Way too enticingly; his brain conjured images of them doing a little mattress dancing, her perfect butt in his hands, his pelvis doing a slow bump and grind into hers as he tasted that pretty pink mouth.
A throat clearing caught his attention and Seth looked at him pointedly.
Jon shot him a sheepish grin. But he did manage to pay attention for the remainder of class. Raven was getting a lot out of the one-on-one instruction, including heaps of praise from Seth. And his niece’s beaming face reminded Jon why he was here in the first place.
Raven was so anxious to leave after class finished that he couldn’t shake the niggling feeling he’d somehow embarrassed her. He hoped the second night would go better than the first.
But the second night was more of the same torture. Jon was hapless and Raven tried not to act annoyed or mortified about the extra attention they received from the instructors because of his screw ups.
However, Jon certainly didn’t mind having Maggie’s soft curves pressed against him as she walked him through the dance steps. The woman was an enigma; confidently giving instructions to the entire class and yet blushing so prettily when they were pressed body to body. He was actually sorry when class ended.
After the rest of the students took off, Jon noticed Raven wasn’t racing out the door, but in deep conversation with Seth. He wandered over to where Maggie sat on the bench, changing shoes.
“So it is true,” he said, sitting sideways on the bleachers beside her.
Maggie glanced up. “What is true?”
“There is such a thing as putting on your dancing shoes.” Lame, Jon.
“Different types of dancing shoes for different dances. Probably like you use different drums for different parts of a song?”
“You’d be correct.” He angled forward. “So while I’ve got you alone…give it to me straight. Am I failing class?”
The corners of her lips curled into a smile even as she remained focused on buckling her shoe. “This isn’t a pass-fail situation. I’m giving you an A for extra effort.” Maggie’s eyes met his briefly before her attention drifted to his arms. Her gaze started at his wrist and moved up to his bicep. “I’ll admit I’ve been admiring your cool tattoos during class.”
“Do you have any tats?”
“No. Never had much chance to see artwork designs up close to see what my options are.”
He held his arms out. “Go ahead and take a closer look if you want. See if there’s anything you like.” Feel free to touch as much as you want.
Her eyes clearly broadcast I want, even if her alluring mouth stayed closed.
The first tentative touch on his forearm was potent as an electric charge. He held himself still, willing that charge not to travel straight to his dick.
Her cheeks were flushed. Her blue eyes bright. Tendrils of reddish-blond hair had escaped from her tight bun, tempting Jon to loosen it completely and crush the soft stands in his hands. Or smooth the strands back into place just to touch that creamy-looking skin. Maggie unsettled him. She was wholesome looking and a little shy—not his usual type. So his immediate attraction to her was baffling. Not unwelcome, just confusing. Question was, did she feel the same pull?