Page 71

CUTTING A RUG

“Get it together, Chris.”

I stepped out of the car, pulling up my pants. Rose had proven to be an expert knot maker. There was a good chance I’d be going to bed with these suspenders still on. I didn’t want to brag, but they made my chest look huge. Even the pinstripe pants did a fantastic job of highlighting my assets.

“You’re not a dork.” That was a lie. “Okay, you’re a sweet dork.”

I walked along the path leading to Abraham’s front door. As I climbed the stairs, I spotted the curtains moving. Before I could form a fist to knock, the door flung open.

“Laurel?”

I hardly recognized Bobby’s sister. She stepped onto the porch.

With a spin, my eyes widened as the silver fringe flung out wide.

Her hair had been flawlessly styled with a single wave almost covering her eye.

Her lips were expertly painted a blood-red.

Had Gladys had this treasure stashed away?

I wouldn’t be surprised if it belonged to her mother.

“You… wow. You look gorgeous.”

She fidgeted with the bangles on her wrist. “You think so?”

If I didn’t know better, I’d think she worked in a speakeasy, serving gangsters moonshine. Seeing her get into the spirit of the jazz concert eased the tension in my shoulders. I didn’t know if Bobby would dress up. At least I wouldn’t be the only one in character.

“I think you were born in the wrong century.”

She gave me a quick slap on the shoulder. “You sweet talker. Maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll save you a dance.”

“Speaking of…”

“Bobby’s almost ready. If you think you were nervous about tonight, he’s been a pain. That man spends more time making himself presentable than I ever did.”

It was hard to imagine. Bobby’s long hair and wild beard appeared effortless. I assumed he rolled out of bed, ran his fingers through his hair, spritzed a little cologne, and pulled up his overalls. I had taken a long shot in the dark, thinking he’d wear a suit.

“Whatever he’s doing, it works.”

“Are you going to start gushing?” She shook her head. “You two are so cute, it hurts.”

“Is he here?” The thunderous voice echoed throughout the house. I thought I was picking up Bobby for the concert. Who knew we were going to have a family reunion? I should have known better. You can’t date the man without dating the family.

“You never call. Never write. Did our date mean nothing?” Abraham slid past Laurel. I held up my hand to shake, but he insisted on a hug. “We’re way past handshakes.”

I gave him a bear hug, complete with a slight lift off the floor. Unlike his daughter, he had dressed up in a simple button-down shirt and tie. He looked handsome, but it’d be near impossible to outshine Laurel. When I tried peeking inside, he stepped in my way.

“It should go without saying, I expect you home by curfew.”

“Uhm.”

“Your intentions best be noble.”

“I don’t??—”

Laurel gave him a playful shove. “Just ignore him. He used to chase off any boy who so much as looked at me. If they couldn’t figure out, he’s nothing more than a giant teddy bear—” She poked him in the chest. “—it proved they were idiots.”

“Make sure you use protection.” My face turned bright red, especially after the incident at the pharmacy. Wait… did he know? “I have the only grandchild I can handle.”

“Bobby!” Laurel shouted inside. “If you don’t hurry, I’m stealing your date.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s bad form to date my boyfriend’s sister… especially after dating his dad. The town is going to talk.”

Laurel laughed. “Good. They need some excitement in their lives.” She stepped inside, glancing up the stairs. “So help me, God.”

“I’m coming.”

I tried peeking up the stairs, but I couldn’t see past Laurel.

Abraham put an arm around my shoulder, guiding me back onto the porch.

They treated it as if Bobby was descending a grand staircase in his best debutante gown.

When Abraham’s grip tightened on my arm, I realized it wasn’t much different, not for him.

This proud dad was about to see his son off on a big date.

Laurel reached out of sight, pulling Bobby into the open. She linked arms, squeezing onto the porch with her brother. I… I… I was at a loss for words. My sexy mountain man had transformed.

“Do you like it?”

I didn’t know where to start. Bobby had cut his hair, slicking it back like a mobster.

It made his eyes stand out, but it paled compared to his beard.

What had once been unruly and rugged had been trimmed and groomed.

He remained a mountain man, but a sophisticated one.

He had been perfect before, but now he took perfection and made it shine.

“You’re amazing,” I mumbled.

His hands slid into his pockets as he blushed. He stared at the porch, shying away from the compliment. I wanted to climb on top of him and cover him in kisses. The only thing that stopped me was the watchful eyes of his sister and father.

Screw it.

I took a step forward, my hands holding the sides of his face.

I wanted… no… needed to kiss my boyfriend.

When our lips touched, I could hear his sister gagging.

The only thing that mattered was this handsome man who gifted me the ability to call him my own.

As I pulled away, I could smell the vanilla in his beard.

I’d be asking for tips when I wanted to up my rugged status.

“You look amazing,” I whispered.

“You think so?”

I stepped back, keeping a hand on his chest. The suit from Gladys fit him like a glove.

The red tie stood out against the white dress shirt and vanished into his pinstripe vest, complete with a chain to a pocket watch.

I hadn’t given it much thought, but I wanted Bobby to wear suits like this all the time.

Even better if my staring made him blush.

“Enough gushing,” Laurel said. Will’s head popped up behind his mother, holding Bobby’s jacket. She took it, thrusting it against Bobby’s chest. “We have a concert to crash.”

“Wait, wait.” Abraham reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone. “I need a photo of this sexy group of people.”

Laurel moved between us, striking a pose. Bobby and I followed suit. We waited… and waited. No matter how many times Abraham poked at the camera, he kept saying, “I think I got it.”

“Grandpa…” Will slid past us, taking his grandfather’s phone. “When are you going to learn?”

“It’s not my fault. What happened to Polaroids?”

Will pushed a button on the camera, and the flash went off. Before we could move, he spun around, getting in the photo. Holding up the phone, we could see ourselves on the screen. With his other arm, Abraham pulled Will into the shot.

“Damn, I have a good-looking family.”

Will reached out, pushing the button for his grandfather. With photos taken, it was time to give the town something to talk about.

“You gentlemen ready?” Laurel’s eyebrows jumped up and down. Past her, I couldn’t stop staring at Bobby. I was ready for so much more than this dance. Whatever came my way, I hoped this handsome man made the memories with me.

“Ugh. Gawk in the car,” she said, stomping toward the car.

We were off to the dance.

The jazz band had been playing for twenty minutes.

Dinner had been nothing fancy—burgers with homemade fries—but it had been entirely cooked and served by students.

I was impressed to see them in white dress shirts, black pants, and crimson-red cummerbunds.

While not every attendee dressed to the nines like our table, they had put on their Sunday best for the event.

“Laurel, I’m glad you could make it.” The conductor had stepped off stage, schmoozing with the crowd. He had short dark hair and thin rectangular glasses, the perfect image of a band conductor. Like us, he wore trousers and suspenders, leaning into the jazz era.

“Marcus, I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Even if I tried, Bobby wouldn’t let me.” I raised an eyebrow at the statement. Did Bobby have a secret love of jazz music? It seemed my handyman had secrets I had yet to explore.

“At some point, I want to talk to you about the fall play. I’m thinking, musical?” He stood, thumbs hooked on his suspenders, as he shot her a smile. “Would be fun to work with the younger kids.”

“Let me get through this one. The thought of trying to teach the Lost Boys to sing gives me hives.”

He laughed before stepping away. With a tip of his fedora, he waved at Bobby and me before heading to the next table. “And for the sake of the kids, get up and move.”

I spun about in my seat, eyeing Bobby. He pointed at his sister. He might like jazz, but it seemed getting on the dance floor would be a different challenge. I turned my attention to Laurel. “My lady.” I stood, holding out a hand. “Would you do me the honor?”

She ignored my hand and stood. “First my brother, then my father. Christopher Wilde, is there a Wright you’re not trying to woo?” When I didn’t answer, she rolled her eyes and grabbed my hand. “Hurry, before I change my mind.”

The jaunty music had rolled into a ballad.

I gave a slight bow before holding up my hand.

Laurel stepped in, her hand resting on my chest. We moved in time with the music, and after a few minutes, several of the older couples had joined us.

The concert had transformed into a dance as we moved about the floor.

“You know he’s smitten,” she said.

“Your dad or brother?”

“Both,” she replied. “Dad is a complicated man. To anybody else in town, he’s a giant goofball. He’s always ready to crack a joke. But don’t mess with his kids.”

“I’ve noticed.”

I gave her a gentle push, spinning her toward the stage. As she rolled into me, I ducked under my arm, showing off my dance skills. When she returned, her hand on my chest, she smiled. Without the stress of the play, Laurel was rather beautiful. Abraham had produced two incredible children.

“Dad likes you. He never likes anybody. Ask him about Will’s father, and he’ll growl. Like, really growl.”

I never thought of Abraham as the stereotypical father willing to put the fear of God into his children’s dates.

Had I somehow slipped past his defenses?

Even if I did, Laurel had taken up the mantle, threatening to hunt me like a wounded animal.

Filled with characters, the Wright family radiated love for one another.

The band finished the song, and we stopped long enough to applaud. The dance floor was filled with couples. Before we finished, a trumpet player started a jaunty solo.

“You know, Bobby could use a dance partner.” She had mentioned before that Bobby looked forward to the event. “I’ve caught him practicing once or twice.”

My boyfriend had his fair share of secrets. I wanted to tease them out of him. When we first met, I thought of him as a simple handyman with a smile that knocked the towel out of my hand. It just so happened, he wasn’t the only one with a card hidden up his sleeve.

I escorted Laurel from the floor to her seat. The band had started, a quick number that required more than a little swaying. Instead of plopping into my chair, I held out a hand. “Bobby Wright, I believe you have a spot on my dance card.”

Nobody in attendance looked as dapper as Bobby.

He could have been in his overalls and work flannel, and he’d still be the most handsome man here.

I’d have to write Gladys a thank-you note for the clothes.

He had been handsome before, but with shorter hair, his eyes went from beautiful to downright stunning.

“I’m not much of a??—”

I took his hand and pulled him to his feet. “A little bird told me you’ve got some moves.” He glared at Laurel, and she laughed. The dynamic between the siblings made me long for a sister of my own.

The rest of the crowd had returned to their seats as we moved in front of the stage. He leaned in close and whispered, “Who leads?”

These were the questions that needed answering in the gay manual. I held up my hand, putting his other on my chest. Usually, I’d say the taller person leads, but I had something up my sleeve.

“Did you know I once played a bootlegger?”

He shook his head.

“The director insisted everybody in the scene be able to dance.” I wiggled my eyebrows. “There are some things you never forget.”

He watched my feet as I started the jitterbug. On the third round, his feet moved with me. When he looked up, he smirked. I bit my bottom lip, fighting the smile. Bobby wasn’t just gorgeous—he was courageous, and I could feel my heart beating against my ribcage.

Let’s see how far we could take this.

When I let him step back, I pulled him closer, raising my arm. Bobby slid underneath with a spin, coming back without missing a beat. Now, it was my turn to be impressed. One spin. Two spins. Bobby moved with a grace I wouldn’t expect from someone his size.

Then he stopped.

“You okay?”

He held up his left hand. “My turn.”

All my experience dancing came from choreographed numbers in movies. I had never been paired with another man. If he wanted to lead, I’d do my best to follow. I shifted my stance, recognizing how awkward it felt.

Bobby gave me a few rounds to get adjusted, his hand on the small of my back guiding me along. Simple turn. Slow-motion spin. Okay, this wasn’t too complicated. Follow his lead, and pay attention to his hands.

“Here we go.”

I didn’t have time to ask what he meant.

He guided me behind his back, switching hands until we were standing shoulder to shoulder.

The audience watched intently as the only two men on the dance floor put on a show.

Bobby jerked my arm, and I rolled into him until he was standing behind me, my arms crossed along my chest. The feeling of his body against my back was going to cause problems, especially if he continued pushing his groin into my butt.

Spin. Dip. Spin. I didn’t have time to think.

He pulled me this way and that. I’m sure I missed more than one or two steps.

Holding both my hands, he simply said, “Slide.” He jerked me toward him, and I let my shoes skid between his legs.

He threw a leg over my head, spinning about, lifting me until we were facing each other again.

“Holy shit,” I gasped. Bobby didn’t have a few moves—he had all the moves.

He stopped dancing, pulling me into a bear hug. He had proven his point. My burly boyfriend was so much more than a handyman. The song ended, and the audience cheered. I didn’t know if they clapped for us or the band.

“You are amazing,” I said.

“With a few more classes, you’ll get there,” he joked.

He squeezed me before escorting me to our table. Laurel had stood and continued clapping until we took our seats. I couldn’t hide the redness on my face. Across the table, I couldn’t help but admire Bobby’s sinister grin. I had been played, and I couldn’t have been happier.