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Owen talking smack is a beautiful thing. I giggle.
“Thank you.” I have to ask, “How did you know I like Christmas movies?”
“Something you said when we were getting fries last week about how you only watch Christmas movies with your roommates during the month of December. When I saw on their website how many movies they filmed here, I thought a tour would be fun.”
“So much fun.” I reach out and squeeze his upper arm. Mistake. There is some serious muscle in that biceps, even with his coat. My fingers linger longer than is appropriate before I drop my hand and hide it in my pocket. “I love this. Thank you.”
His blush deepens. It’s charming, just like him.
“You’re welcome.”
Our last stopon the tour is a dirt-packed clearing. The second I enter, I know where we are. “This is the party scene inChristmas Carol Hoedown.”
Max’s grin expands. He doesn’t seem to mind that I stole his line. I’ve been doing that a lot over the past hour, and each time he gets more enthusiastic.
“Right! I was a town member extra in that scene, so I learned the folk dance. I’m going to teach it to you now.”
“No way! How fun.” I glance at Owen. “I can teach it to my roommates next time we have a movie night.”
“No way.” Owen’s response is much less enthusiastic. “I think I’ll sit this one out. I have two left feet.”
I nudge him with my elbow. “You must have a hard time finding shoes that fit.”
“Ha ha.”
I clasped my hands together under my chin. “Please dance with me?”
His expression turns serious. “For you, anything.”
My stomach flutters at the way he looks at me so earnestly. As if hewoulddo anything I asked him to do.
He takes a step back and gets in what I can only assume is his dancing pose: legs apart with knees bent, his arms akimbo. “I’m warning you, this will not be a pretty sight.”
It’s already a little frightening, though definitely entertaining. The fluttering in my stomach settles as I laugh.
After watching our interlude, Max turns his back to us. “I’ll do it for you once, and then we’ll take it slow together a few steps at a time.”
From his phone Max starts the same song they had the band play in the movie. It’s one written specifically for the show and has a simple, catchy rhythm. The lyrics, however, could use some work.
Max calls out each step as he goes. “To the left, hop, step, close step to the left. Now to the right. Hop, step, close step. Take mincing steps in a circle. Step, hop, step hop, step, hop.”
It’s easy enough, and I join in after watching for a minute.
“Show off,” Owen mutters, but he’s smiling.
Max stops the music. “Then it repeats from there. Ready to begin?”
He is a very patient teacher, which comes in handy because Owen can’t dance. I wouldn’t say he has two left feet, more that he has no rhythm and no memory of what order the steps go in.
Instead of getting annoyed or embarrassed, Owen keeps trying. He laughs each time he goes in the wrong direction. He applauds when I get the steps in the correct order. I love how he can have fun at something he does terribly.
“Go right. Your other right, Owen,” Max says. “Owen, mincing steps means to step with your toes, not your heels.Toes.Do you know what your toes are? It’s a hop, not a jump.”
It’s hard for me to keep up with Max when I can’t breathe because I’m laughing so hard at my dance partner. My stomach aches.
Max studies Owen for a moment. “I think that’s the best we can hope for. Ready to add the music?”
“Absolutely!” Owen says with enthusiasm.
