Page 71 of If It's You

“Ha! That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day.” The previous gloom that had filled the shed eased, and Maizie’s lungs expanded.

“Oh, please. If Channing Tatum can do it, so can I.” He gave her a lopsided grin.

“Dancing is harder than it looks. Just like basketball,” Maizie said.

Christian snorted. “I refuse to believe that.”

Maizie sized him up. He was a total tough guy but nothing a little dance class couldn’t humble. “Okay, city boy. Meet me in the barn at six tomorrow for your first dance lesson.”

“No, thank you.” Christian stood and started to turn away.

“Chicken.”

He stopped and faced her again. “Fine. You’re on. I’ll be there after evening chores.”

“No, you misunderstood me. 6a.m.” Maizie gave him a long evil stare.

Christian looked like he was about to complain again but wisely shut his mouth.

“Fine. But then I get to teach you basketball.”

“I already know how to play basketball,” she retorted.

“Barely.” He smirked. “I think you could use a refresher course.”

“Fine,” Maizie said confidently. Dance was so much harder than basketball.

Eighteen

Christian’s alarm clock rang too early the next morning. He rolled over, and shoved his face into his pillow to block out the light already creeping through the thin drapes. Why was he awake right now?

The dance lesson.

He threw off the covers before he fell back asleep. He and Maizie had made some progress last night, and if he stood her up, her brick walls would be right back up. He didn’t want that. He had enjoyed being real with her. They had shared things that had made them both vulnerable, and she hadn’t run away like he’d expected her to.

But neither had he. And that told him more than he wanted to know. He liked Maizie. Watching her cry had broken away pieces of his stone heart, and all he’d wanted to do was hold her until her pain disappeared.

He threw on some basketball shorts and a t-shirt. He laced up his tennis shoes and at the last minute decided to run to the barn. He needed to tamp out these ridiculous feelings before they took control of him.

Maizie was already there by the time he reached the barn. She was sitting on the ground, bent in half.

How does she do that?

“Go ahead and stretch for a minute,” she said, not even lifting her head to acknowledge him.

Christian slipped off his shoes and joined her on the floor. He put one leg out. Leaned over. Then repeated on the other side.

“Okay. Now what?”

She arched an eyebrow. “Thatwas not a stretch.”

“I ran here. I’m warmed up. Let’s dance.” He clapped his hands together with false enthusiasm.

“Fine.” She stood, and he did the same. She looked him over. “You’re going to need tights.”

“Oh, no. You can’t use that movie line on me.” He crossed his arms across his chest. “I don’t think I ever even saw Channing Tatum wear tights, by the way.” Maizie’s gaze drifted to his biceps, and he flexed for good measure.

Her cheeks turned pink, and he grinned.