Sultry Summer Nights

Sultry Summer Nights

Té
Russ

This book is dedicated to my beta readers, both new and old.

Rosie, Christina, Sharon and Dwan.

Without your feedback, input and ear to listen while I brainstormed, vented and had those breakthrough "aha moments", this book would not have been what I am now proud to present to my readers.

Thank you all!

We made it to the summer time? Are you hot yet? Well things sure are about to hear up in Florida with Julie and Dylan! I have to admit to you all...this story did not turn out the way I originally planned
at all
! And I'm so glad it didn't, because it came out much better than I imagined it would. I was a bit stressed about this book, until I realized I was doing the one thing I vowed never to do with a book, and that's force the story. Once I relaxed and let the characters take control, it flowed so beautifully. I hope you enjoy this story as much as I did!

We will travel to Martha's Vineyard in the fall and meet Rowan and Laurel. But in the meantime, be on the look out for the next McAllister book (Just One Night, book 5) next month (July 10, also my birthday!)

Happy Reading!

T
é

Keep in touch!

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&
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Email:
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Prologue

"Do you want to dance?"

Her voice was like a caress against his skin. He turned and came face to face with the gorgeous beauty who he'd been watching dance the night away. They'd locked eyes every once in awhile and she would give him a seductive grin before she spun around and got lost in the music again.

Now she was standing in front of him, asking if he wanted to dance with her.

He'd turned down every other woman who'd asked. But he was drawn to her unlike any other woman in the club.

He downed the rest of his drink before he spoke. "I don't dance much."

She gave him that mischievous grin she'd been giving him all night and reached out and grabbed his hand.

"That's okay," she said and pulled him out of his chair.

She spun around, and shimmied from side to side as a new song began to pulse through the speakers. She turned to face him and pressed her body against his and placed one of his hands low on her waist.

"Close your eyes," she whispered into his ear.

He felt a little apprehensive at first, worried that he might make a fool of himself, but as if reading his mind, she added, "Don't think, just feel the music and move to it."

And then they were dancing.

Their hips moved together in time with the sensual music; rolling, grinding and gyrating to the beat. Then she would turn her body, so that her back was facing his front. There was no hiding the desire that she was stirring up inside of him, but she didn't seem to mind as she continued grooving with him to the beat.

"I've been watching you dance most of the night," he murmured into her ear.

"I noticed."

"You're quite the dancer."

"Thank you. You're not too bad yourself."

"So, are you going to tell me your name?" he asked.

"No."

"No?" he repeated with a raised eyebrow.

She shook her head and smiled. "What's the point? We're just sharing a dance."

"Well...what if I want to dance with you again sometime?"

She pressed her body against his again, and pressed her lips to his ear. "If you find me again, I'll tell you my name."

And then she was gone.

Dylan Baxter turned around in every direction, and then shoved his way through the crowd searching for his mysterious dance partner, but it was as if she'd disappeared into thin air.

He hurried to the exit and looked up and down the street of Ocean Drive of Miami Beach.

His first night back had certainly been interesting, but there was one thing he knew for sure.

His gut told him that he would see her again.

And his gut was almost never wrong.

Chapter 1

"All right girls, make sure you practice your positions at home, as well as your releves. Next week, we will work more on sautes."

Julie Richards dismissed her beginner ballet class and made sure all of her little ballerinas left with their parents, then went to her office to change out of her ballet outfit. She was teaching a Zumba class next and her adult ballroom classes started in a few hours, which gave her a little time for reprieve.

As she finished getting dressed, she heard a light knock on the door.

"Come in."

She smiled when her grandmother, Dottie, poked her head in.

Dottie was the owner of the dance studio that Julie ran in Coral Gables. She and her sister had immigrated from the Dominican Republican as college students. Dottie met and fell in love with Stephen Richards, Julie's late grandfather, and the rest was history. They'd been raised speaking both English and Spanish; their father insisting they speak English, while their grandmother taught them Spanish. So it wasn't uncommon for them to intermingle both languages. Julie oftentimes found herself calling Dottie either
'Lita
(short for
abuelita
) or Gram.

"Those little girls are catching on so well," Dottie said, coming into the office.

"I know!" Julie exclaimed. "I'm excited to see how they will blossom in the next few months."

"I'm sure they will do wonderfully under your teaching."

"That means a lot, coming from you Gram," Julie replied honored.

"You always were one of my best students. And I'm not just saying that because you're my granddaughter. I loved that your father would send you here for the summers. You took to dancing like a fish to water. Oh and you won so many competitions. Speaking of competitions..."

Julie sighed as she leaned down to undo her ballet slippers. "Please don't start
abuelita
, I told you I'm not competing anymore."

"But why?" Dottie asked. "Honey, you're still so young and talented."

"I just needed something more out of my life than competing all of the time. Teaching dance gives me that. Besides, someone's got to help you run this place now."

"Sweetheart, I'm saying this out of love...that is the biggest load of crap I've ever heard."

"Gram!" Julie said, laughing.

"You and I know the
real
reason you don't want to compete anymore is because of Camden."

Julie sighed again. "Can we please not talk about him?" she asked, as she tightly tied her shoestrings.

"I understand..." Dottie went on as if Julie hadn't spoken. "The two of you started off as partners in my youth summer class. When you graduated from high school you moved down here to pursue your dance career. You were partners for ten years and then suddenly he decides to quit. He lost his passion for dancing, but you didn't."

Julie didn't need to hear a run down of her own life. And she certainly didn't want to think about her ex-partner/lover. He hadn't just lost his passion for dancing, he'd lost his passion for her. That probably hurt even more.

"You're right," Julie acquiesced. "I didn't lose my passion for dancing. Which is why I now share it with others by teaching."

"But can you honestly say, that's enough for you?"

"Yes."

Dottie stared at Julie for several moments before crossing her arms and saying, "Uh-huh...and how were the dance clubs in Miami Beach this weekend?"

"How did yo
u–
"

"
'Lita
knows all and sees all, honey."

Julie smiled and shook her head at the older woman.

"You're searching for something out there in those clubs that you aren't getting here at the studio," Dottie said in a sage tone, before leaving Julie alone with her thoughts.

Her mind drifted to the guy at the last club she'd danced with the previous weekend. She danced with plenty of guys when she went out. Usually they were just faceless characters that helped her express herself on the dance floor and release some tension.

But he had stood out among the rest. Every time the crowd parted and she got a view of the bar, he was there watching her. She didn't know what it was about him, but something in her desired to dance with him more than any other man in the club that night. It hadn't mattered to her that he said he wasn't much of a dancer.

Either he'd been modest or he just wasn't aware of how good of a dancer he was, because once they hit the floor, and she was in his arms, they were so in sync that it seemed like they'd been dancing together forever.

Even now, her skin felt heated at the memory of his hands on her hips, his cheek against hers, his voice in her ear.

The attraction had been so strong that it frightened her. So when he asked her for her name, she decided to throw a challenge out to him instead.

She blew out a frustrated breath, wondering if that had been a mistake. Should she have just given him her name?

It probably didn't matter either way. She'd never seen him in any of the clubs before, so she doubted he was regular, which meant he was probably just one of the very many vacationers that frequented Miami throughout the year.

She probably wouldn't see him again, which was just as well. She had to focus on their dance studio and getting more customers in. Unfortunately, they didn't have many students joining lately.

She had to figure out how to turn things around. Her grandmother had worked too hard, for decades, to fail.

It was summertime, so with any luck, business would pick up.

She would make sure it did. One day, the studio would be all hers. She was determined to do whatever it took to make sure it survived.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

"I'm so glad you decided to move home early before the wedding!"

Dylan grinned as he walked down the street talking on the phone with his sister Diana. He'd just went out for something to eat and was now leisurely strolling down the street to back to his new apartment in Coral Gables, enjoying the summer breeze.

"The timing of everything just worked out," he said.

Tired of living in northern Florida, Dylan had decided to move back down south. His move couldn't have come at a better time considering his sister was getting married in a couple of months.

"It sure did," Diana agreed. "I can't wait to see your new place."

Dylan was eager for her to see it as well. While the condo he lived in wasn't exactly within walking distance to the beach, he still had a great view of Biscayne Bay and the Miami skyline from his apartment.

"I'm on my way home with our dinner. The last of my things arrived this weekend," he said, looking through the windows of the businesses he was passing.

"Is that what you were doing all weekend? Unpacking?" Diana asked.

"Actually," he said, "I went to Miami Beach."

"Now
that
sounds more like your speed," his sister teased. "Was it worth the trip over the bridge?"

He thought back to the woman he'd danced with and her parting words.

If you find me again, I'll tell you my name
.

"Yeah," he finally said. "It was totally worth it."

"Dylan Baxter?"

He turned at the sound of someone calling his name.

"Hey Di, I've got to go. I'll see you when you get to my place," Dylan said into the phone. After he hung up, he walked over to his old best friend. "Brent Richards!"

They gave each other a brotherly embrace, then took a step back and looked at each other.

"Long time, no see man. I didn't know you were back in town," Brent said.

"Yeah, just got back this past weekend."

"Are you here visiting or back for good."

"I'm here to stay. What's up with you?"

"Not much," Brent replied, shrugging. "Well, actually a whole lot. I'm opening my own salsa club in Miami Beach."

"Yeah? That's great man. I still remember going to your gram's studio after school all those years."

"This is it right here," Brent said, pointing behind them.

"Really? What happened to the old place?" Dylan asked, remembering that the studio had been in an area not nearly as nice as this one.

Brent looked down and kicked some gravel off of the side walk. "It burned down a few years ago."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Don't be. It was a blessing in disguise. Gram was sick of that neighborhood. So after we got the insurance money from the fire, we found this nice piece of property over here in Coral Gables and rebuilt."

"It really is a nice neighborhood," Dylan agreed. "I actually live right down the street from here."

"No kidding?"

"Nope, about two blocks down that way."

"You'll have to come in and see Gram, she'll be glad to see you after all these years. She always gets on me about losing contact with you. And you can finally meet my sister Jules, she's helping Gram run the place now."

"Your younger sister who lived in Georgia with your dad and step mother?" Dylan asked, remembering that Brent lived with his single mother growing up.

"That's the one. She moved down here after she graduated from high school."

"Maybe I'll get to meet her one day."

"I'm sure you will, especially since you live so close to the studio."

"Most definitely. And you've got to stop by some time so we can have a beer and catch up."

"Will do. I've got to drop off these flyers in the studio. I want to catch these folks before the class lets out. Here," Brent handed Dylan a flyer. "You've got to come out to the grand opening.  I'll put you on the VIP list, drinks on me."

Dylan looked down at the flyer and his mind drifted to the woman from the club he'd met. He didn't know a thing about her, but he had a feeling that she wasn't one to miss a grand opening. Especially for a dance club.

"I'll be there."