Kiss Me, Dancer (8 page)

Casey’s fingers toyed with the strap of the leather purse in her lap. Trevor
was
a bona fide asshole. How could she possibly have gone out with him for a whole year without realizing it? Meanwhile, Drew got it down after one meeting. “What about
your
illustrious date? You don’t seem too upset over her.”

“I’m not. Riley and I were never serious. Every so often we just go out for, well, fun.”

“I’ll bet.”

“Hey, you’re boyfriend told me to bring a girl,” Drew said, surprisingly defensive. “And I wasn’t about to play deadbeat to that jerkoff after he laid that old alpha male crap on me.”

“In other words, you came tonight to show him up.”

Drew kept his eyes on the street ahead. “No. I came because I wanted to see you.”

Casey felt a blush color her cheeks, hopefully hidden by the dark shadows inside the Porsche. Her anger had kept down her awareness of being alone with him in the confines of the car’s close space. Suddenly the space seemed so intimate. And she liked it. She thought of how good it had felt to touch Drew when he’d fallen against her at the fitness class. And remembered how he’d told Madame Lumina he had a crush on her.

Yikes. Madame Lumina. If he ever found out
.

“Well, you certainly made the evening a lot more interesting. Gave Trevor one spectacular birthday gift.”

“I’m sorry, Casey. But don’t worry. Trevor will be back, begging with flowers in hand. Riley picks up buff dudes just for hook-ups and reserves the long haul for rock stars and billionaires.”

“Actually, I’d already decided to break up with Trevor, but thought I’d wait. Didn’t want to spoil his birthday,” she added through clenched teeth. “He just made my job a lot easier.”

Drew turned down a tree-lined street of North Cove. A smattering of farmhouses and colonials on each side, silhouettes submerged in the wet darkness, their positions marked only by the soft yellow glow coming from their windows.

“Josh said you live in the studio?”

“On the second floor.”

“So, did you dance with New York City Ballet or something?”

Casey knew he’d get around to asking this question sooner or later. It was inevitable when she ran a dance school. But she had no names to drop, no glories to tout. She’d become well practiced at giving parents her carefully crafted statement about the famous teachers she’d studied with and the Vaganova teacher training courses she’d taken. Mainly to preserve her dignity and the respectability of her dance academy.

But for some reason she couldn’t give this answer to Drew. Tonight her little explanation felt like the alibi of a failure. A girl who always saw herself as a little bit of this and a little bit of that. A little talented, a little pretty, a little smart. But never quite enough of anything to actually succeed.

“No,” Casey said. “I never made it into a company. I started training too late. But I danced in a few MTV videos, had a couple walk-ons in a sitcom, got chosen for a hosiery commercial — just my legs.”

“Not surprised. About your legs, I mean. Yours are great.”

“Thanks.” She shifted nervously in the seat. “Not exactly my goal, but it paid the rent for a while.”

They came to the two-story brick building that sat on the corner of a side street leading to the main part of town. One wall still had an old Leland’s Hardware sign embedded in it.

“Would you mind pulling into the driveway? The back door goes directly to my apartment.”

The tires crunched across the gravel drive. Her porch light cast a humid haze over the small parking area behind her building.

“Thanks for getting me home,” Casey said, and got out of the car.

Drew did as well. “I’ll walk you to your door.”

The rain had stopped, and a choir of crickets filled the night. A breeze steeped in ions and salt air from the Long Island Sound sent a rush through Casey. That and the delectable man strolling beside her.

Some guys were just born to keep women up at night.

Casey reached the door, her mind racing. She didn’t want to say goodnight yet. And he didn’t seem eager to leave. Should she invite him up? Or was that asking for trouble? She stalled, digging a hand into the purse that hung over her shoulder, pretending her key was not right there under her fingers.

“What made you decide to open a dance school?” Drew asked.

His tone sounded curious and thoughtful. Casey guessed he wasn’t just making conversation, so she gave him a real answer. “I wanted to try earning a living doing something I loved, something I find meaningful. And I love helping kids discover the discipline and beauty of an art form. Teaching them what it means to train hard and experience the reward of mastering something difficult like a pirouette or jete en tournant. But I think the best part is seeing the thrill they get from the sheer joy of movement.”

He studied her, his eyes intent. “Must be great to work at something you can put your heart into. Something you actually enjoy.”

“From what I hear you took to your trucking business with relish.”

Drew shook his head. “Never had a choice. My dad was always there pushing me. Not just in our business. In everything. On my case constantly. Since I was a kid.”

He dropped into a crude imitation of what was obviously his father’s voice: “How many touchdowns did you score? How many homeruns did you hit? Did you win the fight? You better ace that exam.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Boy, I didn’t dare come home with anything less than an A on a report card. He wanted me to be the toughest, smartest, richest, top dog, ace of all aces, you name it.”

“At least you know what it feels like to succeed. To be a winner.”

“I guess. Except it makes everything a job, a test. I know I’ve got a rep for carousing and all, but the truth is I feel like everything I do is to prove something or to impress somebody. Makes life a bore.”

His frank honesty startled her. This was the last thing she would’ve expected Drew Byrne to say. “But if you feel this way, why pull your son out my ballet class when it’s something he loves to do?”

With a soft laugh, Drew said, “Maybe it’s because Trevor isn’t the only asshole in town.” He stared out into the night, a mystified expression on his face. “I’ve never talked about this to anyone before. Must be some kind of crazy effect you have on me.”

“I’m flattered,” Casey said, touched that he would open up to her like that.

Without warning, Drew reached out, pulled her into his arms and kissed her hard. His mouth was burning hot, yet so sweet and soft and full. Casey responded with a craving she couldn’t deny, one hand on his muscled chest, the other reaching around his neck.

Drew tightened his grip, pressing his steel body against hers. She let out a slight whimper. That seemed to send him into warp drive. He deepened his kiss, thrusting his tongue into her mouth, running his strong hands over her back, cupping her bottom and pulling her against his hard shaft.

But just as she was thinking that Drew really knew how to use his mouth and hands, Casey stopped herself. Had she forgotten what a fast and slick player he was? As good as this felt, she knew she’d be sorry tomorrow. Or in the next week or month after she fell for him and he dumped her.

She stepped back. “I can’t do this.”

His arms held her shoulders, his voice husky. “Feels great to me.”

“Me, too,” she admitted in a whisper. “But as you said, you have a reputation, and frankly, I’m not anything like Riley or the women you—”

“I know that.”

“Then you should know this would end badly.” And the last thing Casey needed was another calamity to add to the mountainous pile she’d already stacked up.

Drew’s teal blue eyes bored into hers, his eyebrows knitting together. The question in his face reached a part of Casey that wanted him to argue with her, to convince her this would not end badly, that this special feeling she’d had for him since they’d first met was something he felt, too.

But he said only, “All right, Casey. Goodnight.” He slid his hands down her bare arms, creating a chill on her skin that remained after he let go.

“Night,” she said, scolding herself for the corny fantasies that plagued her. She unlocked her door, listening to his shoes on the gravel as he walked away.

She ran up the stairs to her three cats and empty bed. Closed the door and leaned against it. Fighting the urge to race back to Drew and dive head first into what she knew would be a burning hot delicious romance.

But one that would leave her in ashes.

Chapter Nine

“Right, Dad, right. I’m already on it.” Drew stepped past the black amoeba-like grease stains on the rough cement floor of the trucking garage. He recalled the way Josh had once made a game of naming them for their shapes. Something he never would’ve thought to do when he was a kid. No, Drew had been too busy hanging onto every word of his godlike father, desperate to please him, fearful of doing some stupid childish thing that would bring on his wrath.

Stuffing his mobile into his jeans pocket, Drew walked out to the back lot where he found Keith resting on a bench in the sun, his artificial leg outstretched. Styrofoam cup of coffee in one hand, cigarette in the other.

“When are you going to quit that nasty habit?” Drew said.

Keith squinted up at him. “Just which nasty habit are you referring to, Prince Charming? Since I figure I’d clock in with maybe thirty or so. Not enough to keep up with you.”

Drew sat next to him. “Yeah, well, I must be losing my touch. Got turned down by the ballerina I told you about.”

“Well, plenty of fish, and all that.”

“Not like her.”

“Ha! Do I detect a crack in the prince’s armor?”

“What in hell’s that supposed to mean?”

Keith swigged the last of his coffee and overhanded the cup at a waste barrel. “Sooner or later a guy runs into a woman who’s different from the rest. I call her the Mystery Woman. Because there’s something about her that will spin your head around and send your heart to Planet Nine and back.”

“Gee, I can hardly wait.”

“Sounds like you won’t have to.”

Drew’s cell rang. He pulled it out, checked it, frowned and shoved it back in his pocket. “I think it’s mostly because of where I’m at in my life right now. I’m beginning to assess things. So along comes this sexy oddball chick, and she inadvertently gives me a nudge that opens the floodgates. Kick-starts a change in me that’s been brewing for years around my dad.”

“You mean like you’re finally getting pissed about working you ass off to put this business on the map and having Andrew Sr. act like it was all his doing?”

“Hey, that’s never going to change. What bugs me more is the way I never questioned it. Dad loomed so large in my life that I never realized what a slave I am to making sure everything I do will be a feather in his cap. Something he can use to impress his friends. It’s all for him. I don’t even know if I really wanted that Ferretti I bought.”

“I’ll take it.”

Drew looked at this man he cared so much for and realized he’d never even invited him to his home in Southampton. Andrew Sr. wouldn’t like it.

The rambling estate he and his dad bought when things took off had enough room for each of them to have private wings bigger than most people’s houses. He used to joke that they lived like two bachelor buddies. But, no. All the rules were dictated by his father.

As if reading his thoughts, Keith said, “Maybe it’s time you started branching off. Investing your time and money in something that’s got nothing to do with your dad or this company.”

Drew nodded, but his thoughts had shifted from what Casey had said about how she loved teaching dance to the memory of her petite dancer’s body in his arms. He’d barely slept at all last night, tormented by the sweet softness of her mouth and the velvet feel of her skin. And the fire that ignited in him when he kissed her. It had been so hard to stop. And he was sure she’d felt the same. “I think she’s attracted to me. But wary of who I am.”

“Oh, we’re back on the ballerina now?”

“I’ve got to find a way to get her to go out with me. Maybe I’ll ask Madame Lumina. She was pretty good last time.” Drew shook his head. “Can’t believe I actually called a psychic reader, but you were right.”

Keith lifted an eyebrow. “I always am.”

“Okay, Yoda.” Drew tapped him on the arm. “How about you and your lady coming out to my place in Southampton before the summer’s done?”

***

Casey sat in Natalie’s office at the Coffee Cove, having demanded a much needed powwow with her BFF. Casey had just begun to tell her about what happened last night at Trevor’s birthday party when Natalie gave her a soft pat on the hand.

“You poor baby. I heard all about it.”

Casey pretzled her lips. “Figures.” Those years in Manhattan made her sometimes forget about the pitfalls of a small town where everybody knows everybody else’s business. “Let me guess. Dr. Jill Grinski told you.”

“Well, she comes here every morning on the way to her office. I was going to call you, but decided to wait until you were ready to talk.” She pushed a plate of apple turnovers toward Casey. Natalie’s remedy for all wounds. “I feel so bad. Bet you’d like to wring his neck.”

“Worse. I don’t even care anymore.”

“So you’re breaking up with him. Good for you. I mean, you go out of your way to arrange his birthday dinner and he ends up in the restroom doing it with Riley Ward?”

Casey shrugged. “Aside from my slightly battered ego, it worked out for the best. Now I’m free of guilt about ending it.”

“Jill said the guy who brought Riley was that super hot trucking mogul, Drew Byrne. And that you two left the Captain’s Quest together.” A sly smile.

Casey nearly choked on her coffee. Why did she feel so reluctant to tell her best friend about the little game she and Drew had going? Maybe because it wouldn’t be going anywhere, since Casey wasn’t about to let herself join that long list of conquered females Drew Byrne checked off on his scorecard. “Um, well, yeah, actually we’ve met before. Remember when I mentioned my attraction to the divorced father of a boy in my dance academy?”