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“A dancer?” I questioned, though Hale had already said as much earlier.
I didn’t want to think about that, or I’d get pissed again about all the football players drooling over her. Which was fucking ridiculous because that was years ago.
Betty glanced over her shoulder to the stage where the Zydeco band was playing. “You want to dance?”
“Sure.”
She grabbed my water and put both of our bottles on the table, then snatched my hand and dragged me toward the roped-off area where a few couples were dancing.
“Can you two-step?” she asked.
I didn’t tell her that my own grandmother had taught me how to two-step when I was nine. I simply shrugged. “I think I can keep up with you.”
“It’s not hard. I’ll show you.”
We walked into the dance area in front of the stage, the music blaring loud. She faced me and took both of my hands in hers.
“Okay!” she yelled. “So just follow the music. You shuffle your feet twice this way. Then once the other.” She showed me the basic two-step move, staring down at our feet and then looking up when I didn’t move. “Come on, Broussard. If you can dance to Broadway tunes, you can do this.”
Smiling wide, I hauled her close and whirled with her, two-stepping fast and hard among the circle of dancers.
Her eyes widening with shock, and gleeful surprise, was the prettiest sight all day.
“You tricked me,” she yelled, still laughing, following my lead.
I grinned right back and twirled her to the beat of the Zydeco music, keeping in tempo with the two-step movement. Then I spun her out and spun her hard back in. She landed against my chest, but I kept our movement continuous, two-stepping in the circle, holding her tight.
She laughed, her head tipping back, her blue eyes reflecting the clear autumn sky. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, and I didn’t want this dance or this day to ever end.
Chapter Fifteen
~BETTY~
“ActThree is where we need the most work,” said Bennett as he flipped through his script, sitting on his sofa.
It was Sunday, the day after the best Gumbo Cookoff ever, and we’d decided to have a rehearsal at his house since we had to be off-script by tomorrow. I’d bathed and shaved, and primped in preparation for thisrehearsal.
I’d been surprised—and not—when I first drove up to his house. Before I knew Bennett, I expected him to live in the fancy gated community near the Beauville golf course, Sugar Oaks. But now, I was pleasantly relieved to see that he’d bought an older home in one of the neighborhoods that wound next to the bayou.
It was a white Acadian style with dark-stained columns on the porch and rustic finishes, which he’d confessed he’d done mostly on his own over the five years he’d lived here.
It was charming with sweet lines and pretty but cozy, just like him.
I watched him, noting the pensive look etched in his forehead as he scrolled to the scene he wanted to rehearse next. His fabulous jaw was working hard on that piece of gum. When he was in this mode—work mode—he was so focused and stern. For some reason, it made me smile to learn his different moods.
But also, that edge of trepidation surged at the same time. No matter how much I told myself there was no reason to be afraid of liking him so much, I couldn’t completely convince my heart that it was true. Shaking off that nagging voice, I watched him quietly.
The Bennett Broussard charm was ever-present, but there was also a fierce kind of determination set in his features. I’d seen him this way at the store when he was with his employees. I could only recognize it now because I’d come to know him so well.
“I say let’s start on page eighty-eight.”
He stuck his gum on the napkin on the coffee table, leftover from the raspberry chocolate tart he brought from the store. I loved his damn bakery so much it made me mad. Living so close to his store, I was going to put on a lot of pounds or be forced to work out.
Staring at his chiseled jaw, I mourned the loss of his gum and the scenery of watching him chew it.
He glanced up and frowned. “What?”
“Nothing.” I didn’t want to tell him how adorable I thought he looked when he was in all-business-Bennett mode. Flipping quickly to the page, I said, “Ready.”
