Page 48 of Rival Hearts

I wanted to say more, to find a way to get the information from Trent. Tomorrow afternoon would have been better, after I’d considered his words, come up with something that would win him over. Instead, I’d come in a fit of frustration and was leaving worse off than when I’d arrived. She wouldn’t tell me the truth, and Trent had given me a timeline which could take years to complete. Sometimes I was astounded at my level of incompetence in basic human relationships.

“Thanks for letting me in, Trent.”

“You’re my brother. I’ll always let you in. But I might not let you stay.” He threw the door closed behind me, and the lock snapped into place.

As goodbyes went, it wasn’t the worst one I’d ever heard.

Chapter Nineteen

Maggie

Iwas ready to be amused when I entered the two-story brick building where all the men were gathered. Lila said Grady and his choreographer were at the studio working with a bunch of the performers. Although I’d avoided him after our meeting turned awkward, I was feeling strong enough to face him tonight. He hadn’t sought me out during the last week, so I guessed the avoidance was mutual. Or maybe he was too busy with Sabrina to worry about what I’d been doing.

That thought soured my stomach. At least the campaign signs weren’t disappearing anymore.

The studio itself was closed off from onlookers, but the owner had given me a key to slip into the room to check the choreographer’s progress. Lila had been hoarding the list ofdancersand wasn’t letting me peruse the lineup. A buzz had been building around town. Events like this were built for small communities. People in Little Falls excelled at supporting each other. Their sense of comradery was one of the things I loved best.

I opened the door of the last studio and slipped inside. The men were all facing the incredibly fit woman at the front of the room with fire-engine red hair who was contorting her body in ways I never imagined possible. People danced like this?

“When you’re done stretching, we’ll get started,” the choreographer said, twisting her body into another unbelievable shape.

A wave of embarrassment hit me. They were stretching, not dancing. I’d never been particularly athletic. Thank God I hadn’t said anything out loud.

“We’re going to take it from the top. Remember, I’m teaching you moves, but you can mix and match them any way you want based on the music you’ve selected for your performance.”

She had a melodic voice which rang through the wide-open studio. Her red hair was in a pixie cut, and even from the back of the room, I could tell she was pretty. Somehow, Grady had convinced her to work with the men she didn’t know every day for a week straight. A local bed-and-breakfast place was putting her up for free.

I leaned against the wall and crossed my arms. Grady was in the front row, and he glanced over his shoulder at someone behind him who I couldn’t quite see. The choreographer did some fancy footwork at a quick pace and then slowed it down. It was fascinating to watch, and I wished I was more coordinated.

Once the choreographer had done the sequence a few times, she went over to her phone and announced they’d be putting the moves they’d learned that week to music. The men could practice whatever they wanted, and she and a few others would circulate to make corrections. A hip-hop song blasted through the speakers, and I grinned at the mishmash of activity from the men. Almost everyone was doing something different, from the hospital doctors and nurses, to the mechanics, to the restaurantowners, to the teachers—every facet of life in Little Falls seemed to be represented somewhere.

Grady turned around to help the person who kept stealing his attention, but I couldn’t see through the throng of other dancers and onlookers.

I moved farther down the wall, loath for anyone to spot me or to interrupt the group. A familiar head of dark hair with a slight graying at the temples came into view.Sweet Jesus. My heart contracted. Why was my father learning how to dance? I shifted forward and then rocked back when I saw Grady demonstrating the footwork they’d been taught. Dad watched, brow furrowed and then attempted to do it. Rather than laughing at him, Grady nodded his head and then showed him again. Unlike my father, Grady oozed confidence. The smoothness to his movements made my mouth go dry.

Behind me, Emily slipped into the studio, Amir attached to her side.

“Pretty great, right?” she whispered as Amir raced over to Grady and his grandfather.

“I’m actually a little horrified. He’s not going to strip, is he?”

Emily laughed. “He’s in the group number. So, yes and no. Mom thinks this is a great idea. I didn’t want to ask why. Knowing her, she would have given me far too much information.” Her smile was wry. “Grady has been tutoring him on the steps all week.”

When I turned to focus on Dad, my gaze connected with Grady’s. He gave me a sheepish grin that was reminiscent of the boy I’d known. Instinct nudged me to cross the room, slip under Grady’s arm, and squeeze him tight. For once, my desire to be close to him wasn’t fueled by lust, but rather genuine affection. In his free time, he’d been teaching Dad how to dance. My heart was going to burst out of my chest.

Amir stole Grady’s attention, and the familiar surge of longing flooded me as he crouched down to my nephew’s level to talk.

“I love it when men do that,” Emily said as though reading my mind.

“Do what?” My ovaries were going to spontaneously combust at any moment. I pressed a hand to my pelvis.

“Get down to his level, talk to him like he matters. Dad does it, of course. When I see other men do it, though, it gets me right in the feels.”

I knew Emily wasn’t angling for an apology or condolences. Her husband, Omar, had died four years ago. Amir would never remember him. When Emily had a few too many drinks, that line of thinking was enough to elicit tears. My sister hadn’t so much as looked at another man since he died. She’d told me that falling in love was a risky business, and you had to be absolutely certain the highs would be worth the inevitable lows or else the emotional bankruptcy wasn’t worth it.

Looking at Grady, I wondered how much I’d already invested. He had Amir in his arms and was twirling him around the room while Dad continued to practice his footwork.

“He’s good with kids.” Emily’s focus was locked on her son.

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