The Ballerina's Stand (11 page)

“Lauren says we can stay with her until our caseworker figures things out.”

Jason nodded, relieved Lauren understood. “I left her a message. I haven't heard back yet. Rhonda threatened to call her. Either way she's been contacted.”

“She won't contact the caseworker,” Tina said. “Rhonda doesn't like her.”

“You should have told me that sooner, and I could have sent her after Rhonda before.”

Tina giggled, and the mood broke. Everyone tried to smile. A disaster had been averted, but there was still a long road ahead. Dylan went to change, and Tina followed him in search of the restroom.

Jason settled back on the edge of the desk, not really sure what to do next. Tomorrow he'd talk with Chloe about how this would affect the case, and hopefully by then the caseworker would have called back.

Lauren's hand on his arm stopped his thoughts. She closed the door and leaned against it. “Thank you,” she signed.

Jason scrubbed a hand down his face, appreciating her thanks but knowing she needed to know more of the details than Tina had shared. He looked at her and shook his head as if that could clear his mind.

“That woman.” He slowly signed, having to think of each sign before making it. “She said some
a
-
w
-
f
-
u
-
l
things to
T
-
i
-
n
-
a
.”

Lauren took a step toward him. There wasn't anywhere for either of them to go in the small office. “You're a good man, Jason,” she signed. She reached out and took his hands in hers.

Her fingers spelling his name surprised and pleased him. He'd never seen her do it before. His instructor had explained that names were unique signs, not just generic gestures for a person's name, but key to the person. They were created. He rather liked it spelled—especially with Lauren's slim fingers doing it.

“No need to sign.” She smiled at him. “I can read your lips...” She touched his lips. “Just fine.”

Seated as he was, he no longer towered over her. They were close. Slowly, she put her hand on his chest, right there in the center where his heart thumped. She was so attuned to vibration, she had to feel it.

“I've never known anyone to be so mean to a kid.” He knew he was enunciating too much, but he needed her to understand.

She tilted her head and lifted her hands. “Tina is a hard kid, but no one deserves
a
-
b
-
u
-
s
-
e
.” The last she thankfully spelled. There were so many words he didn't know. He pushed back his frustration.

“No. They don't. I told Tina that.” He paused. Lauren had been in foster care most of her childhood. Had she been abused? His gut twisted and anger rose up. “Were you ever—?”

She interrupted him by shaking her head vehemently. “Not that way. Just...
i
-
g
-
n
-
o
-
r
-
e
-
d
or left out.” She pointed at her ears, then her lips—the sign for deaf—explaining the obvious of why.

He reached for her, enfolding her in his arms. She felt so small and soft and warm. So right.

Lauren slid her arms up his chest, a caress that led to those same, soft, warm arms around his neck. She leaned into him, and he dipped his head to claim her lips.

She returned his kiss with the same enthusiasm she did everything, setting him on fire. He realized she understood him, his frustration with the signing, with Rhonda, and that she sensed the pain he felt.

She tasted of everything he'd gotten a hint of before. Strength, sweetness and energy. His mind filled with the images of her dancing, and he gently moved his hands up and down her back, needing to feel all that grace and magic. She molded so perfectly against him.

The sound of voices startled him. Tina and Dylan were on the other side of that door—the only thing that kept him from taking more of what she offered.

“The kids,” he signed as he pulled back and pointed at the door. “I'll take you home,” he said. “This—” He brushed his finger gently over her lips before pointing back and forth between them. “
L
-
a
-
t
-
e
-
r
.”

She gasped, in a sweet, soft way, and slowly nodded before pulling away and opening the door.

 

CHAPTER ELEVEN

D
ROPPING
L
AUREN
AND
the kids off at her town house felt right. It also left Jason feeling lonely as he drove back to his place.

Wyatt and Emily were at their hotel, but there'd been plenty of questions on both their faces when he'd dropped them off earlier. Emily had some type of sixth sense. She'd had the perfect touch with Tina. Talking with her, not about why she was with Jason, or what had happened to put those tearstains on her face, but on who she, Tina, was.

Emily made the girl feel important, and he'd seen Tina bloom right there in the car. Then when she'd had to tell Dylan and Lauren about their foster mother's actions, he'd seen the strength Emily had nurtured come to the surface.

He owed his sister-in-law a big one,
and
some explanations. But not tonight.

Traffic grew thinner, at least by LA standards, and he pulled into the parking garage the same instant his phone went off. He didn't recognize the number. He answered once he'd pulled into his spot. “Hawkins.”

“Is that you, Jason?”

Maxine's voice surprised him. How had she gotten his private number? Probably from Lauren or Susan.

“Yes, it's me. What can I do for you?”

“Is Lauren with you?”

“I just dropped her off.” He'd almost said
and the kids
, but he wasn't sure how much Lauren would fill Maxine in on.

“Oh. She's not answering my texts. I wanted to make sure she sent Dylan home. He needs his rest before the show.”

“Show? What show?”

“The fundraiser. Didn't Lauren tell you?”

“Uh, no.”

Lauren hadn't said anything, but then they'd had a whole lot of other things to discuss. He sighed. Communicating anything took twice as long when he and sign language were involved. He needed to get better at it before they could reach a level of normal.

The feel of her in his arms returned and he took a deep breath to clear his mind and focus on Maxine's next comment.

“You really must attend,” Maxine said. “Most of the profits go to support the foundation Lauren runs to help hearing-impaired children access the arts.”

Lauren had a foundation? Chloe's comments in the conference room came to mind about Lauren's work with kids. He had so much to learn about her. “When is the show?” He'd like to support it. And any excuse to see Lauren worked for him.

“Day after tomorrow. You should come. I can get you great tickets.” She laughed. “I have an in.”

He joined her laughter as much out of courtesy as the fact that he liked the older woman. An idea half formed in his brain. “My brother and sister-in-law are in town. Think I could bring them?”

“Oh, yes. That would be wonderful.” Had he heard the sound of her hands clapping together? Probably. The dramatic action fit her perfectly.

“Sounds good. Make it four tickets and you've got a deal.” He'd see if Tina wanted to go.

“You're not bringing a date, are you?” Maxine's accusation surprised and pleased him.

“No.” He laughed. “Just family.”

“Well, then. I'll take care of it.”

“Thank you.” The quiet that came through the line was full of unanswered questions. “Is there something else, Maxine?”

“Have you talked to Lauren lately about her inheritance?”

How did she know about that? Again, Lauren had most likely shared the info. “Not yet. I agreed to leave it alone until Dylan's case is settled.”

“You won't forget, will you?”

“No, ma'am.” He fought the smile. “I won't forget.”

“She works too hard on these things, and for a pittance. Seems silly not to take advantage of her windfall, don't you think?”

Maxine was anything but subtle. “Is that what you want me to tell her?” he asked.

She laughed. “You have a good night, Jason. My phone just beeped. Lauren is texting. I'll get those tickets. And Jason?”

“Yes, ma'am?”

“Thank you.” Her voice faded off just before she disconnected.

Once again silence settled around him. Why didn't Maxine talk to Lauren about the inheritance money herself? Lauren loved her foster mother, he could tell that, but their encounter at the tea house the other day came to mind. Two strong-minded women had to make for some interesting days. He smiled—like when his sisters were all under the same roof.

He grabbed his things and climbed out of the car. Soon he was opening the door to his apartment, stepping into more silence.

For a long minute he stood in the foyer. It wasn't a big apartment, but it had plenty of room for him. The kitchen, a narrow galley, went to the right. Another short hall led to the second bedroom and small bath. The master bedroom was on the other side of the main room—the reason he'd taken this place.

The living room, dining room, great room all in one space lay straight ahead. The wall of glass filled with the city lights, their glow reflecting on the windows. He tossed his keys on the small table and set his briefcase beside it. He yanked off his already loosened tie and draped it over the chair.

The view drew him as it always did. He didn't turn on any lights, didn't need to. The openness of it reminded him of the view from Wyatt's ranch house. From the wraparound porch, you could see most of the whole valley. The rolling fields, the river that glistened in the distance when the moon was high.

Before Wyatt had taken over the ranch, their grandfather had owned the land, and his father before him. Wyatt belonged there, he'd spent more time there than he had in Austin where they'd all grown up. And while Jason loved the ranch, he couldn't take the slow pace, the too-much quiet of each day.

He laughed mirthlessly. So what was different about an empty apartment and a beautiful view his only company?

With a curse, he headed to bed, forcing himself not to turn around and head back to Lauren's place.

* * *

T
HE
FINAL
NIGHT
of rehearsal was done. Nothing more to practice. All she could do was believe they were ready.

And they were. Every one of the kids had given 110 percent tonight. She'd never been so proud of them.

Closing up the studio, she wished it weren't so late. She could have used another hour to dance off her frustration. Hudson and Maxine had taken Dylan and Tina to dinner and would bring them to her place after. She'd been so relieved the day before when she'd told Maxine everything. Maxine hadn't even hesitated to volunteer to help.

Lauren had too many last-minute details to take care of, and the solitude after they'd left had helped her focus.

All day, Jason's promise of later hung over her, wafting by on every breeze, whispering over her thoughts. He'd dropped her and the kids off at her place last night, but she'd needed to get Dylan and Tina settled. That left no time, no privacy. Nothing but the promise that hung between them.

His goodbye kiss had been necessarily short...and searing.

Tonight, she stepped outside the empty studio. Traffic was light, cars whizzing by the studio only occasionally. Soon it would be dark, but Lauren wasn't paying attention. She was too exhausted, having tossed and turned most of last night.

And now the damn door wasn't cooperating. She needed to find someone to look at it.

Half afraid she'd break the key off, she turned it slowly, trying to lift the heavy door just the micro amount to align the bar with the—
bam
—it finally slammed home. She leaned back against the door frame, and took a deep breath. This was getting old.

Something brushed her shoulder and she jumped, knocking her purse from her shoulder. Its contents tumbled, but she didn't dare lean down to see how badly, not at first.

The dark fur ball sitting at the edge of the curb, staring at her with big green eyes, didn't look nearly as perturbed as she felt.

She pointed at him. That was the third time this week he'd done this. She didn't normally dislike animals. But this cat—

Her overreaction was all Jason's fault. He'd been the one to point out that it wasn't safe for her to be out alone after dark.

She didn't have time for this. Hastily, she crouched down to gather the belongings that had fallen out. Hitching her gym bag onto her shoulder, her purse following, she glanced up the street.

The bus was just turning the corner. She had to hurry. She could see from here that it was the younger guy, the one who barely stopped long enough for her to climb on, much less get settled before flooring the gas pedal. She did not want to wait another hour for the next bus.

Thanks, Jason, she thought. She'd never minded before. She always carried a book or her e-reader just so she could relax and wait for the bus.

She reached the sheltered bench, just as the bus's brakes squealed. The whoosh sent her hair flying and the sliding door flew open. She grimaced and climbed on.

The driver lifted a hand, smiling broadly at her, as always. With a nod, he turned the wheel away from the curb. There were only three other people on the bus, all at the back, so at least she didn't have to fear falling on anyone as she battled gravity and centrifugal force to hand-walk to the first seat. She settled with a thump that jarred her bones.

Leaning her head back against the metal bar along the seat back, she let her eyes drift closed as she took several calming breaths.

A couple of stops later, she was the last one on the bus. The others had jumped off at the risk of their lives, as the driver barely slowed at each stop. The last one, an older gentleman, had stood at the curb yelling at the bus. Lauren watched the bus driver brush off his anger, a chuckle shaking his thin sweater-clad shoulders.

She shivered. He really didn't care. Would he just run over someone if they were too slow?

Her stop was directly across from her town house, which was part of why she'd chosen it. It was beautiful and home, of course, but the freedom she had with a bus stop right across the street was huge.

He slowed, which shocked her. Maybe since she was his last stop, he was in less of a hurry? He actually paused, and opened the door fully. Turning in his seat, he grinned at her again.

He'd always smiled and been friendly to her. Why was she suspicious? Damn Jason. Shaking her head, she waved at the man and hopped down onto the sidewalk. He didn't even pull away from the curb until she was nearly to her front door, and then he moved away slowly.

Was he watching over her? What was he waiting for? Hastily, she unlocked the front door, thankful that the lock turned smoothly. Home felt good.

The house was shadowed, leaning more toward dark now. Hudson would bring the kids by in another half hour. She breathed a sigh of relief, enjoying the peace.

Lauren turned on the lamp on the hall table, then moved through the main level, turning on lights, closing curtains. She hated this new consciousness of the world. She had liked living in oblivion.

Her bracelet flashed an instant before her phone vibrated in her pocket. She pulled it out and saw a text.

You home?
Jason had texted.

The part of her that struggled with independence wanted to text him back that no, she wasn't home, she was walking through the streets toward home, and she'd be there in another hour. A thrill ran up her spine as she wondered how fast he would get here. Might be worth watching. And she'd get to see him. Without anyone around—

She texted back a simple
Yes.

Could he read between the lines of a one word text? She leaned back against the wall, waiting for his response. He'd want more. He was a man who wanted words, explanations, always more.

Just using sign to communicate, while it came naturally to her, it was difficult for him still.

Bus or cab?

Should she lie? It would be for his own good, really. She thought of the bus driver, with his creepy grin. She let herself relax, glad she was home, secretly glad Jason was concerned.
Friend dropped me off.
That was just a little lie.

Good.
His word came almost too quickly. Flashing dots on the screen told her he was writing more.
Who?

Shoot.
No one you know.
Was her response too quick? She waited.

Glad you're home. Safe.

Thanks.
She ended by keying a happy face, signaling the conversation was over. He'd keep probing and while she was okay fibbing to him, letting the lie grow was not okay. She slid her phone back into her pocket and headed to the kitchen.

Time for dinner. She'd never enjoyed eating alone and definitely not during performance prep, but she did enjoy cooking. She'd just make a big meal, eat as she cooked, and be full before she ever sat down. Then there'd be leftovers for the next few days. Until the kids found them.

* * *

S
HE
'
D
TAKEN
THE
damned bus. Jason stared out the windows, willing himself to suddenly develop X-ray vision so he could see through the buildings and the city to her place. Was she having dinner? Going upstairs to change? To shower...

Emily's voice cut through his thoughts. “Jason? Where do you keep the garlic powder?”

Garlic powder? He didn't cook. “Uh, in the spice drawer. Left of the stove.” If he had any. Tara, his sister the chef, was the one who'd sent him everything for the kitchen.

“Got it.”

He sighed. Having Wyatt and Emily in town was great. They'd spent the afternoon at the zoo while he'd worked, then he'd met them here for dinner. He'd suggested they go out, but Emily had insisted on cooking.

The smells coming from his seldom-used kitchen were making him glad she'd been so determined.

“So—” Wyatt's footsteps were loud on the wood floor. “What would you normally do tonight?”