Page 68 of Class Act

“Because my daughter seems like the kind of girl who would be really interested in a man of Ford’s . . .”

“Kindness and great personality?” I hurried in before Gianna could say anything about his drop-dead gorgeous looks or his robust finances.

She recognized what I was doing and, in turn, what she’d been about to do. She had the grace to blush slightly, and we turned to other topics of conversation. I listened as Gianna included another woman at the table while reflecting on the fact that I couldn’t wait to tell Ford that my assumptions, for once, hadn’t been so far off the mark. There had definitely been an attempt on his person.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

It was time for dancing, and while I couldn’t wait to get out there, I’d eaten enough to wonder if I’d be able to roll myself on over. The others didn’t seem to be suffering the same way and were delighted by the idea.

“I ate more salmon than a bear prepping for hibernation,” I whispered to Ford.

He cracked a smile as Gianna clapped her hands, keeping him from responding.

“I didn’t know we’d get to dance.” She stood and extended her hand to Randy, eyes twinkling at the role reversal. “May I have the honor?” she said to him.

Randy’s guffaw filled the room as he stood with a flourish and bowed to his wife. “I thought you’d never ask.”

The couple strolled arm in arm down a magical pathway strung with lights until they’d passed the fountain and were mostly out of sight, hidden by hedges and flowering plants. Other couples followed suit, all happily commenting on how wonderful this place was. Ford and I were the last to stand, and I attributed it to him being the host of the evening. Either that or understanding I was in a bit of a fishy coma.

“Listen,” I turned to him, putting my hand on his forearm, when the last couple cleared the hedge. “Maybe don’t dance with Gianna. She’s looking to set you up with her daughter.”

His brow scrunched down. “How do you know?”

“She point-blank asked if we were dating, and I told her we hadn’t defined it.”

“First off, how old is her daughter? Eighteen? Secondly, that was gutsy to ask my date about my availability,” he said, looking over the bush in her direction. I warmed at him referring to me as his date. “What does that mean, we haven’t defined it?”

I sighed. “Don’t pretend that you haven’t spent enough time with women to know what that means. Guys love that phrase. It means what it sounds like it means. But she jumped on it when I said ‘undefined’ and mentioned her daughter, so I kind of put her off by saying you weren’t really available, and it was a whole, you know, situation for a minute. She ended up dropping it, but I’m not sure if that’s a permanent drop or a when-I-get-Ford-alone type drop, you know?”

He took a breath. “At the risk of hurting your feelings, you were supposed to outperform a chimpanzee.”

I laughed and dropped my hand from his arm, the sound loud in the intimate space between us. “Yes, I know. Which is why I backpedaled so hard I’m surprised to find myself still here and not in another country.”

He extended his arm, and I hooked my hand through his elbow as we started walking to the dance floor. “So does she think we’re a couple or not?”

“At the end of it, I’m not sure what she thinks. She might think I’m too shy to admit that you’re dating your daughter’s teacher or that our relationship is so new that I’m afraid to give it a label.”

“I can work with that,” he stated. “Also, I was not a player as a young man, and I’m still not. I may be extroverted, but I’m not interested in drama or anything that uses the word ‘undefined’. Do you dance?”

I stuttered a bit, trying to get my bearings and process all the little nuggets he’d just dropped. If he didn’t like the word undefined, what did he think we were doing? “Yes, I dance,” I finally stated. “For you I’ll even dance gracefully, although graceful dancing wasn’t part of the original favor.”

“You have the most charitable heart of any woman I’ve ever met.”

“That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

When there was space, we stepped onto the floor and Ford slid his arm around me, placing his palm firmly and flat against my upper back as he took my hand in his. I arched one eyebrow in acknowledgment of his apparent understanding of dance positions.

“You’ve got the stance down,” I said, “but can your feet cooperate too?”

A smug little grin made its way onto his face as he led me into the beginnings of a waltz. I followed along easily, having taken dance lessons up until graduating from high school. Both of us were pleasantly surprised by the other’s skill, and before long we were moving as one around the floor. I had no idea how Ford felt, but for me it was exhilarating. I couldn’t hold back my delighted expression as the song ended. He smiled down at me with a satisfied look in his eyes.

The man could dance, he attended the opera, he had a good job, and was a kind father. It would have been enough to attract even the most discerning woman without the added benefit of him having a personality that I was really coming to appreciate. Him being delicious to look at only added to the allure. It was shallow of me, maybe, but I very much appreciated the view.

“Your dancing isn’t undefined at all,” I said. He responded to my quip by tugging me closer and squeezing me until I laughed. “You’re good at it, you’re good.”

“You, too,” he returned.

His arm continued to hold me close, which had me brushing up against him as we stood entranced together, both of us breathing more heavily than normal from the exercise, wearing big grins. The thumb of the hand that held mine lightly caressed the back of my hand, and my pulse leaped. His eyes shifted color, somehow darkening as his lips parted. His arm slid further around me until his fingertips were pressing against my ribs, and I was helpless in the moment, my head tilted back, reveling in the feeling of something so right building between us.

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