Falling for Her Soldier (10 page)

Chapter Eight

His mouth was a perfect
O
. “Yes. Dancing,” Ellie repeated.

“Oh.” Hunter dropped his chin and scrubbed both hands over his face. “Sorry.”

She couldn’t help snorting at his mistake, though Ellie was glad she’d cut him off when she did. That wasn’t a story she was keen to hear.

“Zero,” he said. “Zero experience with the dancing.”

“Be serious.”

He shrugged. “You asked.”

She walked her pointe shoes to a corner of the room, laughing at the way Hunter had been glaring at them like they were some kind of medieval torture device. Well, back in the day, she’d called those shoes worse names than that.

It had been startling when she’d first spotted him in the studio. How long had he been standing there watching her dance? She’d been pretty out of it, except for when she’d been fixed on Charlie’s e-mail. That was right when she’d noticed Hunter in the middle of the dance floor, looking captivated and intense, tearing her desire in two.

“No experience, huh?” She tossed her hand towel on a chair, then moved to the middle of the floor. “Did you go to your prom?”

“Yes,” Hunter said, leaning back against the mirrored wall, resembling a caged animal.

“Did you dance with your sister at her wedding?”

He twisted his mouth in thought. “Well, yeah.”

Ellie couldn’t picture what Hunter might’ve looked like as an eighteen-year-old about to graduate. It made her feel cougary to even think about it. But she could definitely picture him in a suit and tie at a wedding. She didn’t know who his sister married, but there was no way he could out-smexy Hunter in a tux.

“Okay.” She cleared her throat. “So you do have previous dance experience.”

“I guess, but not, you know”—he slid his hands in his jeans pockets—“not ballroom or whatever it’s called.”

“It’s all the same. I’m assuming you know how to march in cadence.”

“Affirmative, ma’am,” he said with a little smile.

“Marching, prom, and hockey.” She snapped her fingers. “This’ll be a piece of cake. So, are you going to join me out here? You can’t dance with me from way over there.”

Hunter twisted his lips like he was still deciding. Finally he pushed off the wall and strolled over, pulling his hands out of his pockets only to let them hang loose at his sides. “I’m telling you, I have no idea how—”

“Just shhh,” she interrupted. “Take my right hand.”

He didn’t wait to be told twice, but clasped his big hand around hers. It felt warm and strong, just like she remembered.

“I’m going to rest my left hand on your shoulder and you put yours on my waist.”

“I think I can handle that.”

Ellie knew her waist wasn’t tiny by any means, yet Hunter’s hand seemed to circle the entire curve of it. She liked the feeling, and couldn’t help being additionally impressed by the feel of his hard shoulder muscles under her own hand. When she peered up at him, his eyes were lowered.

“No need to be nervous. You’re doing great.”

He exhaled long, like he’d been holding his breath. “Yeah, right.”

“Just relax.” She rearranged her fingers around his then flexed their wrists back and forth, trying to loosen him up. “Perfect.”

“Dancing’s easy so far,” he said.

Ellie breathed out a little laugh. “I told you so. Okay, we’re going to start with a box step, basic place to start.”

“‘Kay.”

“Now, I’ll be leading at first, but obviously the man is supposed to lead.”

“Obviously.”

His expression of over-concentration made her want to crack up. But that wasn’t very mature, and it might make him more nervous, or cause him to bail on the whole thing. She needed to make this worth his while.

“When I’m in teacher mode,” she continued, “I’ll steer us, but when we practice the dance, it’s all you.”

“I apologize in advance.”

She did giggle now, just a quiet one. “Basically, it goes: forward-slide-together, back-slide-together.”

“Huh?”

“Just repeat that with me. Forward…come on,” she coaxed.

After a brief pause, he spoke the words along with her. He had pretty good rhythm. Ellie had a theory: If a guy was good at slow dancing, he was also good at—

Stop it, Ellie!

“Okay. Got that down.” She cleared her throat and shook out her white-knuckled grip around the bulge of his shoulder. “Now, you’re going to step forward with your right foot—no—
oh
!”

“Sorry,” Hunter said, dropping her hand and stepping back. “Damn it, your foot. Did I hurt you?”

“No, it’s fine. At least we got the first blooper out of the way. It’s all downhill.”

“I fear I’m going to trample you to death.”

“You won’t.” She picked up his hand and squeezed it encouragingly. “Let’s try again. You step forward with your left foot and I’ll follow you with my right. Ready…”

Tentatively, Hunter picked up his foot and stepped forward.

“Excellent,” she cheered. “And no broken bones.”

He exhaled a quiet laugh. “Yet.”

“Okay, now we’ll both step to the side. You with your right. Ready…side. Good.”

She squeezed his shoulder, trying not to linger on the rock-hard boulder. When he looked at her, wearing the most triumphant smile, Ellie felt tingles up the back of her neck, like her body was registering the nearness of his body. She couldn’t help sliding just an inch or two closer, repositioning their stance. His scent was a heavenly mixture of clean and musky, filling her head.

It suddenly dawned on Ellie that she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so comfortable in someone’s arms.

…

“Lock your frame.”

“What does that mean?”

“Just… Hold this…” Ellie sounded all business. She gripped his hand tightly and braced their arms in position. If he wasn’t so frustrated, he would really enjoy being close to her like this. He
should
be enjoying himself, for hell’s sake.

“The music is throwing me off,” he complained, stepping back in frustration.

“There has to be music,” Ellie said. “That’s one hard-and-fast rule.”

“Who is this singer? His voice is bugging the crap out of me. I can’t hear myself think.”

“It’s Michael Bublé. And you’re projecting blame.” She folded her arms. “Don’t blame Bublé.”

“I sure as hell
blame Bublé
. Elvis would be better.”

Ellie lifted her eyebrows. “You like Elvis?”

Charlie shrugged. “He’s the king.”

“Sorry, I don’t have any Elvis on my phone, so Bublé has to do.”

“Bublé,” Charlie muttered, pronouncing the word like it was profanity fit for a drill sergeant. “I can step, I guess, but I can’t
feel
when I should. Does that make sense? How do we do it so our bodies move together?”

She didn’t reply, but was kind of staring at him. Then he realized what he’d said. Dammit, he was throwing out Hunter lines without even meaning to.

“Come here, let’s try something.” Ellie took his hand and moved them into starting position, the only move he’d halfway mastered. “Rest your forehead against mine.”

Charlie lifted his eyebrows and looked at her staring up at him. He didn’t know what this had to do with learning a damn box step, but he wasn’t about to complain. He didn’t have to stoop very much; Ellie was nice and tall.

When their foreheads touched, he couldn’t help taking in a long, deep breath, smelling her shampoo, her skin. He shut his eyes and inhaled.

“Close your eyes,” Ellie said in a quiet voice.

“I am.”

“Listen to the music.”

“Bublé,” he muttered.

He felt Ellie’s body vibrate in a silent giggle.

“I’m going to start,” she said. “I’ll move you backward using only pressure from my forehead. Just feel it.”

Charlie nodded an inch. A moment later, he felt Ellie’s weight shift forward ever so slightly. His body’s natural response was to move forward to meet hers, but he knew that wasn’t the intention, so he swayed back on his left foot. Ellie followed forward. Then he felt her shift to the side. Again he followed. Then forward. Side again. Back.

“You’re doing it,” she whispered.

“Quiet, woman, you’ll throw me off.” He readjusted his grip on her hand, his forehead still pressed to hers, breathing her in, being guided.

Forward-slide-together, back-slide-together
. He didn’t have to repeat it in his mind anymore, he was simply moving with her. And he suddenly realized he was doing the leading, guiding her back and to the side with only the slightest shift of weight.

He was leading them, and she was following.

His fingers slid from her waist and splayed across her lower back, pulling her closer. He rearranged their grip, easing her hand to rest against his chest. At some point, her other hand had moved from his shoulder to behind his neck. It was a little bit of paradise, feeling her breath on his face, though he was barely breathing himself.

With eyes closed, his other senses were full of her. Her silky skin, the whisper of her breath, the memory of her laughter and face behind his closed eyes. He ran his fingers down her spine, then up her arms, their foreheads still together. He felt his heart pounding under her hand pressed to his chest.

“Ellie,” he whispered, heat flooding his body.

She didn’t speak, but he heard her breathing hitch.

He moved his hands to the sides of her long neck, touching the softness of her skin, her pulse racing with his. Every breath he took pushed the ache in his chest further down to the pit of his stomach. Part of his brain realized their feet were no longer moving, but the rest of his brain went blank when her fingers slid up the back of his hair.

He dipped his head and pressed his cheek to hers, easing her in until her chin rested against his shoulder.

“Jane,” she whispered, her fingers gripping his neck.

He pulled back and looked at her. “What?”

Ellie’s huge, light eyes were staring at something across the room. Charlie turned to see Jane planted right outside the glass doors. “I have a class,” Ellie said, regret coloring her voice. “The girls will be in here any minute.”

Charlie’s chest throbbed when she let go of him, like she was breaking their link. He had to tell her the truth. Without Sammy killing him.

She walked to the water cooler in the corner and filled a Styrofoam cup to the top.

“Ellie,” he said, following her, taking ahold of her shoulder. “There’s something—”

“Yo! Break it up.” Jane rapped on the door.

Ellie jumped in surprise, dumping the contents of her cup down the front of Charlie’s shirt. “Sorry!” She dropped the cup and started dabbing at his chest. “You’re soaked.”

“It’s okay. I’ve got my gym bag.” Before it got him too wet, he pulled his shirt off over his head.

“Oh.” Ellie was staring at him. “Um.”

She seemed to be zeroed in on the tattoo on his chest. It was two rifles making an X. Was it freaking her out? Then he thought of his other tattoo, the one on his arm, the one he got with Sam last year. He froze in place, wondering for a moment if Sam had told Ellie he’d gotten that tattoo with Charlie or Hunter?

It didn’t look like she was staring at just the tattoo on his chest anymore, but the region as a whole. Her green eyes lifted from his chest to his eyes, looking lovely and open and lost. He felt the most incredible pull toward her.

“Hey!” Jane tapped on the door again. “Children present.”

“I have to work,” Ellie said, rubbing a hand at the back of her neck, looking as frustrated as he felt.

Charlie stepped back, pulled a dry shirt from his gym bag, and put it on.

“You’re really good,” Ellie added after clearing her throat. “At dancing, I mean. Nice, um, job.”

“You’re an awesome teacher.”

She was blushing again. She was so damn beautiful, it ripped at his heart not to touch her.

“I have to go change,” she said, patting her forehead with a hand towel.

“You don’t wear that?” He pointed at her sexy black outfit.

“The girls request a certain leotard for every class.”

Charlie’s mind went a little wild at the thought. “What’s it today?”

“Red.”

He grinned. “Nice choice.”

“Well, I guess I should…”

It was hard to even think about leaving, but he knew they had to separate now. His only solace was that he’d get to hold her again…hopefully very soon. “Okay,” he said. “Um, thanks for, you know, the lesson.”

“You’re welcome. See you at the WS later?”

“I’ll be there.”

Chapter Nine

Ellie lined up the tip of her stick to the cue ball. It should’ve been an easy shot, but her mind wasn’t on the game. “Nine in the corner,” she said. But not only did the nine not go in the pocket, it went flying off the table.

“Yeah, niiiiice,” Jane said.

Ellie groaned and looked up. Jane wasn’t watching their game, but the game across from them, or rather the four guys playing pool at the table across from them, a dreamy look in her eyes.

“See.” Ellie smiled. “I knew you’d like this place.”

“What’s not to like?” Jane said over her shoulder, still gawking at the guys. “I feel like pitching a tent and moving in.” Finally she pulled her gaze away and looked at Ellie, gripping her pool stick. “Why didn’t you tell me the guys here were so…fit? Hey.” She nodded toward the ping pong table where there was a very lively doubles game going on. “Let’s go over there.”

Ellie held up her stick, about to point out they were in the middle of a game. But she was losing and didn’t feel like playing. Anyway, it was more fun to watch Jane drool. Proverbial kid in a candy store.

The two of them stood around a tall, bar-like table, Jane facing the ping pongers. They didn’t talk much, which was why it surprised Ellie when Jane blurted: “
You
are crazy.”

“Why?”

“Because that guy is insanely hot.”

“What guy?” she asked, glancing around, wondering which military man she’d finally settled on.

“Hunter.” Jane pounded her fist on the table.

“Jane,” Ellie whispered. “People can hear you.” She leaned across the table so she didn’t have to raise her voice. “Why are you talking about Hunter? Concentrate on your…game.”

“That’s what made me think of it,” Jane said, nodding toward the guy about to serve. “I saw you two in the studio this morning. The way you were going at it.”

“We weren’t going at it.” Ellie rested her elbows on the high table. “I was teaching him a box step.”

“With your hands in his hair? And his hands on your—”

Ellie covered her face. “Stop it.” She didn’t need the reminder of where Hunter’s hands had been. Or how he smelled, how he looked. It was all pretty much burned on her brain. She could still feel his strong arms around her. Never had she felt so safe and swept away at the same time. Had he known how badly she wanted to be kissed by him at the precise moment he’d pulled her close?

“The whole thing’s moot,” Ellie said, forcing her heart to slow down. “I can’t pursue anything until—”

“Don’t even start about your stupid single year. You’re less than one month short. It’s close enough.”

“It isn’t stupid,” Ellie said quietly. “Keeping that promise is important to me. I need to do it. I’m
going
to do it.” She bit her thumbnail, picturing the bedroom from her teenage years, the wipe board of goals hanging on the wall. Her new goals wouldn’t be on her wall anymore, but in a file on her computer. Ellie couldn’t stop herself from picturing her laptop at home…an e-mail on the screen.

“Here.” She slammed her cell phone on the table. “Delete.”

“Delete what?”

“The e-mails, his e-mails.”

Jane stared at her. “Are we back to Charlie? Girl, you’re giving me whiplash.”

“That’s why I need you to delete them. I’m obsessing over a man I’ve never met. That’s almost on the same level as purposefully dating a bad boy. Two unhealthy behaviors I am
now
done with.” She scooted her phone toward Jane. “Charlie will be out of my system in no time and once my year is up, I’ll be able to focus elsewhere.”

“You mean focus on Hunter,” Jane said with a smile.

Hunter,
Ellie thought
. Is he the answer?

“He…confuses me,” she admitted. “All that stuff Sam told me about him. I don’t see it. He doesn’t act like a womanizer. He listens to me and we can talk. He’s sweet.”

“Huh,” Jane huffed.

“Huh,
what
?”

“That’s pretty much how you described Charlie.”

Ellie stared at her. Was she really so muddled that Hunter and Charlie were becoming interchangeable in her mind? Of course not! Hunter was all animalistic and charismatic and damn near irresistible, while Charlie was…well…

“Hi, El.”

Ellie jumped about a foot. “Sammy.” She caught her breath, gaping up at her brother. “Hi.”

“You were playing pool when I left,” he said. “I challenge the winner.”

“We quit,” Jane said. “Ellie’s mind wasn’t on the game.” She kicked her under the table.

“I’m…having an existential crisis,” Ellie said, rubbing her leg.

Sam put his hands in his pockets and leaned away. “Sounds female. I don’t think I can help with that.”

Ellie picked at the side of her nail. She wasn’t sure if she should bring it up again with Sam or not. But after what happened with Hunter at the studio earlier—or what
almost
happened—she really did need more information on the subject, once and for all.

“Actually, Sammy,” she said while giving Jane the eye, “I think you can help. Can we go somewhere else?”

Sam scratched his head but when Ellie motioned to a quieter side of the WS with a pair of armchairs, her brother followed. “So?” he said, moving to the edge of his seat. “What’s up?”

There really was no easy way to broach it. “Well,” she said, diving right in, “you know how you came home early from your last deployment…”

“Yeah?” He leaned an elbow on the armrest. Ellie could see one of his tattoos, reminding her of the one similar to Hunter’s, and then she pictured the one on his chest. She didn’t know what the crossed rifles meant, but she figured it was Army-related. Nothing quite as permanent as a tattoo.

Hunter must be in the military for the long haul. Ellie still wasn’t sure how she felt about that, about getting involved with someone who might be called away to possible dangerous situations. And if their relationship got serious, she would be moving with him every few years. Would that be as adventurous as she imagined? Or a pain?

“Do you know,” she continued, trying to keep her thoughts on track, “is your whole unit home now?”

“Yes,” Sam said. “Everyone made it back.”

Ellie felt her palms start to sweat. “So that means Charlie Johansson is on leave.”

Sam rubbed his chin. “Yeah, Charlie’s home,” he said, looking down at his watch, tugging at the band.

“Have you talked to him?”

Sam was slow to answer. “Um, yeah. He’s been home a few days. We’ve talked a couple times.”

Ellie took in another deep breath. “Does he know…I mean, you’re my brother. Has he asked about me?”

“Ellie, come on.”

Indignity made her huff. Meanwhile, Sam was all but obsessed with tightening his watchband, his eyes flicking to her only once.

“What, Sam? Either he has or he hasn’t. Why do you look so guilty?”

Then the answer slowly dawned on her.

“Oh… He
hasn’t
asked about me.”

All those thoughts, those silly daydreams about meeting Charlie, thanking him in person for saving Sam and for being the most important person in her life for two months…that was all they were: daydreams. He was home now, on U.S. soil, but he didn’t feel the need to reach out. Didn’t care like she thought he did.

What was it she’d read in that one dating book?
Sometimes no answer is a clear answer.

“I’m the first to admit it, Ellie,” Sam said. “Men are asses.”

She felt tears behind her eyes, stupid, foolish tears for someone she didn’t even know. Suddenly she longed for comfort…from the most unlikely place.

Whiplash
…

“Not all of them,” she said, pushing the daydream of Charlie away. “Not Hunter.”

“Whoa, what?”

She blinked at her brother. “He’s not. We’ve been having the best time together. He’s great.”

Sam made a fist and cupped his other hand around it. “You know what I told you about him.”

“That’s not who I met three days ago, Sam,” she insisted. “The guy you told me about is not the same man who gave me ice cream for lunch, or ran countless tutus up and down a flight of stairs for Jane, or volunteered to dance the tango with me in front of two hundred people.”

“Hunter’s doing what?”

Ellie stopped to catch her breath. “Chick didn’t tell you? That’s the fund-raiser. We’re having a charity ball, all donations to save the WS. Hunter’s got a friend who owns a newspaper. We’re getting publicity and everything.”

“Really? He’s doing all that and for nothing? I mean, you
swear
to me nothing is going on between you two?”

“He hasn’t laid a hand on me,” Ellie said, though she kind of wished this wasn’t the truth. “You’ve known him for years, fought side by side with him. You
claim
he’s one of your best friends. Why are you so surprised?”

Sam shrugged. “Because I am. I mean, he told me he changed, but I didn’t believe him.”

“I do,” Ellie said, running the back of her hand across her forehead, remembering how it felt when Hunter was there.

“Look.” Sam scooted his chair closer. “I know you’re capable of making your own decisions about dating, but will you just trust me on this? Maybe he’s changed, maybe not. Either way, I told him he’s not allowed to try out his new life change on you.”

Ellie stared at him, indignity rushing heat to her face. “You told him to stay away from me?”

“More or less. What? Does that make you want him more?” He shook his head and sat back. “Clueless.”

“I’m not
clueless
.”

“I meant what I said, Ellie.” Sam looked her dead in the eyes. “You don’t know everything that’s going on.”

“Oh, really?” She folded her arms across her chest. “Enlighten me.”

…

“I don’t know what to do,” Charlie said, running both hands over his head. “I’ve never felt this way.”

“It’s the thrill of the chase, man. That’s all.”

Charlie leaned back in Jack’s swivel chair. He’d been in the coach’s private office hundreds of times when he was on the high school football team, but never on
this
side of the desk. “It’s not the thrill of the chase,” he argued.

Jack glanced up from the playbook he was flipping though. “Are you sure?”

“It’s not only that she’s beautiful. She’s smart and we have fun together. You should see her with those kids, man. It’s amazing.”

After they’d said good-bye that morning at the ballet studio, Charlie hadn’t left right away, but stayed and watched, just for a little while. He couldn’t get over how well she interacted with her tiny students, talking to them like friends, listening, laughing, teaching…probably like a mother would. Was that the key to interacting with children? Treating them like people?

The concept felt right to Charlie, and he almost couldn’t wait to try it out. He smiled to himself, truly excited to be an uncle for the first time.

“Have you two…” Jack tapped his pen on the clipboard.

“Dude, no. We met three days ago.”

“So?”

Charlie hated that the assumption he could’ve already slept with Ellie was completely acceptable to his brother-in-law. Probably to Sam, too. No wonder Sam wanted him nowhere near his sister. He was seriously starting to loathe himself.

He’d held her in his arms, touched her, whispered her name, was one millisecond away from kissing her like she’d never been kissed before. How could he look into those open and trusting eyes and tell her he’d been dishonest for three days about who he really was?

The only thing he could hope was that Ellie would somehow fall for him as hard as he was falling for her.

“I have to head up to the field,” Jack said, shoving a binder into his carrier bag. “Want to check out the recruits?”

“No, thanks.” Charlie pushed back from the desk and stood. “Mac’s got her free period now. I’ll swing by her classroom on my way out.”

“Hey, you should run the situation by her,” Jack suggested as he slid on a ball cap. “She’s always good for advice, especially the kind you don’t want to hear.”

Charlie snorted a laugh. “Maybe I will.”

Twenty minutes later, as he crossed the high school parking lot toward his car, he was cursing himself. Jack had been right, Charlie
didn’t
want to hear Mackenzie’s opinion, which was: “Come clean immediately, you giant ape ass.”

He spotted Ellie and Sam the minute he entered the WS. Sam looked glum and Ellie looked kind of ticked off, but the moment she saw him, her face broke into a smile.

The way that made Charlie feel was so indescribable, he almost tripped over his own feet. Not a good impression to make on the woman he was supposed to dazzle with his smooth dance moves.

“Hey,” he said, approaching them.

Sam immediately rose to his feet. “Hello,
Hunter
.”

“Sam.” The guy was one of his closest friends, but if Sammy called him
Hunter
like that again, even in jest, they might have a problem. “Ellie, hi.”

“Hey,” she said. “So I talked to Chick earlier, and he doesn’t have much for us to do this afternoon. He thinks maybe we should be practicing for the ball.”

Charlie chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. “Not a terrible idea.”