Page 48 of Surprisingly Us

“There’s always a solution, right?” He winks at me, his perfect lips sliding across his face in a dangerous smile.

CHAPTER 12

Rhys

“And that’s why, to this day, Ramsey refuses to ride a bike.”

Lettie laughs, and I drink it in. It’s a great laugh. There’s a robustness to it that I find surprising, maybe because it doesn’t sound like it belongs to such a demure, petite woman.

Lettie’s laugh disappears into a yawn.

I motion to where she’s covering her open mouth. “You were just humoring me with your laugh.”

She props her elbow up on the bar top then rests her chin in her hand. “Not at all. I’m just tired from the day.” She glances at her smart watch. “It’s past my bedtime.”

“It’s nine-thirty.”

“I’m an early riser, so I like to get to bed at a decent time.”

“I’m a night owl.”

Her lips twitch. “Not a surprise, Mr. I’ll pick you up at eight.”

“Late dinners are a habit I picked up in Italy.” I study her tired eyes. “Why do you wake up so early? Isn’t the company on a break right now?”

“Yes, but I’m not taking a break. I’m keeping my training routine and I’ve got rehearsals for a fundraiser showcase for Leg-Up in a few weeks.”

“No break?” My brows raise. “Doesn’t your body need rest?”

“I like to stick to my routine.”

She lifts a shoulder and my eyes are drawn to the movement there, to her toned yet delicate arm, and the way the thin strap of her dress is begging for fingertips to tease it down. The knowledge that she’s not wearing a bra makes it even more enticing.

That’s more than once tonight that I’ve forgotten that the strikingly beautiful woman next to me is the same girl who used to make mud pies on the beach of Lake George.

It’s Lettie spaghetti. Stop staring at her tits.

My eyes snap back to her face.

“What’s Leg-Up?” I ask, hoping I’ll be able to focus on her answer and not the way her nipples are taunting me through the silky material of her dress.

“It’s a community dance studio that offers free or reduced-price classes to families. We’re raising money to clean up the studio. It recently got damaged with a flood from old pipes that were leaking. It needs new drywall and flooring, then once that’s complete, there will be a community day where we can paint the studio and get it ready for classes to resume.”

The excitement that lights up her eyes as she tells me about it has my attention focused on her face.

“It’s a passion project.”

“I can see that. You’re very passionate as you talk. It’s almost like you’re awake now,” I tease.

She laughs and it’s the sound I didn’t know I was missing in my life. It’s light and airy, like a delicate flutter of infectious warmth.

“I think I’m deliriously tired, but also I just love that those who otherwise wouldn’t be able to afford classes have the opportunity to be exposed to the art of dance in many forms, not only ballet.”

“That’s really cool.” It reminds me of my parents’ work and the reason they started The Spencer Foundation.

“Well, between cross training, and practice for the showcase, and assisting with a summer class at the academy, I’ve got a full schedule.” She motions between us. “That’s why this arrangement is helpful.”

“I’m glad.”

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