Page 46 of Wrapped Up with the Three Scrooges

“So, where are we going?”

“Dinner first, then a surprise.”

We ended up at a cozy Cuban restaurant that smelled amazing. Over ropa vieja and plantains, Max told me stories about his college days with Levi and Ronan, and I relaxed into the conversation.

“I have to know. How did three college guys end up starting a gift-wrapping business? It’s not exactly the typical post-graduation career path.” I took a long sip of my drink and let the alcohol calm my jittery nerves. The rum was already working its magic.

Max chuckled. “Would you believe it started as a joke? Freshman year around Christmas time, Levi kept complaining about how terrible he was at wrapping presents. Ronan, being Ronan, said he could wrap anything perfectly. One thing led to another, and suddenly we had a little side business wrapping gifts for other students.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “It actually paid pretty well. We expanded to the rest of the population and had a small space in the mall. Then, during senior year, Ronan’s business professor mentioned howthere was this untapped market for luxury services. The rest, as they say, is history.”

We finished dinner and Max took my arm, walking me next door instead of to his truck. “Club Caliente?” I hadn’t expected Max to take me to a nightclub. “A dance club?”

“Better.” He grinned. “Salsa lessons, then dancing.”

“Oh, no.” I laughed, shaking my head. “I have enough trouble walking in a straight line. Adding rhythm to the equation is asking for trouble.”

He took my hand, his thumb brushing over my knuckles in a way that sent tingles up my arm. “I’ll catch you if you fall.” His voice was low and sincere, and the way he was looking at me made me believe he meant more than keeping me from face-planting during salsa.

Opening the heavy door into the club, I was surprised to see it was empty except for a gorgeous woman off to the side of the dance floor scrolling on her phone.

She looked up when the door thudded shut behind us and grinned. “Max! My favorite student!” She hugged him before turning to me. “And who is this lovely lady?”

“This is Emery.” Max’s hand found the small of my back. “Emery, this is Carmen. She’s the best dance instructor in the city.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere.” Carmen laughed. “Now, let’s see what we’re working with.”

“Unfortunately, not much.” My dancing prowess stopped at dropping it like it was lukewarm.

To my absolute shock, Max moved into position with the ease of someone who knew exactly what they were doing. One of his hands settled on my shoulder blade while the other hand took mine as Carmen started the music.

“You can actually dance?” I asked incredulously as he guided me through the basic steps.

He grinned. “I lost a bet with Ronan and Levi sophomore year and had to take dance lessons for a semester. Turned out I liked it.”

I had absolutely no clue what I was doing, but when Max moved his left foot forward, I moved my right foot back, and vice versa. When he lifted my arm, though, I stumbled over my feet, not knowing where to place them.

Carmen paused the music and came over to us. “Not bad. Usually toes get stepped on.”

Well, that was a good start, right?

Carmen was a patient teacher, and Max was an even better partner. He anticipated my movements, guiding me with gentle pressure and encouragement until I got the hang of it.

“Relax,” he murmured when I stumbled slightly. “Feel the music. Feel me.”

Oh, I was feeling him all right. Every point of contact between us seemed to spark with electricity. His hand on my back was warm and sure, and when he pulled me closer, I could feel the solid strength of his chest against mine.

By the time the lesson ended, I was flushed and slightly breathless, but not just from the dancing. Max’s eyes had grown increasingly darker as we moved together, and the way he was looking at me now made heat pool low in my belly.

“You’re a natural,” Carmen declared as she clapped her hands after we’d finished a series of steps. “The club opens in ten minutes. Stay and practice, yes?”

Before I could protest, she was gone, leaving us alone in the club. The mirrors that lined the walls reflected our images back at us. Both of us were slightly disheveled from dancing.

“One more practice dance?” Max pulled me back into position.

The music changed to something slower, more sensual. This time when Max moved, it was different. Gone was the carefulinstruction, replaced by something more intimate. His hand slid lower on my back, drawing me closer until our bodies were pressed together.

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