Chapter Four

The shocked look on Ryan’s face telegraphed his reaction to Jasper. And truthfully, she’d had much the same reaction when she first met the man. But he was a talented dancer, a patient instructor, a terrific boss and a compassionate human being. Most people never looked beyond his flamboyant exterior to see the man who volunteered at the local soup kitchen, visited shut-in members of the community and collected blankets for the homeless. And now he was forgoing hours and hours of paid instruction to place three teams in a charity competition, which would benefit a cause close to Amara’s heart should she win.

And she would do everything in her power to make that happen.

“Aren’t these amazing?” Jasper’s question broke through her thoughts. He smiled broadly and his gold tooth gleamed in the overhead lights.

In one hand he held a pair of gold lamé pants with a matching shirt. A black sequined outfit dangled from a hanger in his other hand.

Amara could see Ryan’s discomfort. “They are amazing, Jasper, but I’m not sure they’ll fit. You’re taller than Ryan and he’s broader across the shoulders than you. We really don’t want to ruin your costumes with alterations, do we?”

She could hear the breath of relief hiss between Ryan’s teeth. In reality Jasper was the same height, but he wore lifts in his shoes.

“Maybe you could go for a Miami Vice look then,” Jasper suggested.

“What’s that?” Ryan asked.

Amara saw the surprised reaction cross Jasper’s face. “What is that?” Jasper repeated. “Don Johnson. Five o’clock shadow. Pink tee shirt with an Armani jacket?”

Amara knew Jasper binge-watched old television shows with regularity, not only for entertainment but as inspiration for retro dance routines. Just the week before she had ribbed him good-naturedly about singing the Love Boat theme while damp-mopping the floor.

Ryan shook his head. “Sorry. All I can accommodate would be the five o’clock shadow. There’s not a single pink tee shirt in my closet.”

Amara let her gaze wander to Ryan’s face. The strong jaw would carry evening whiskers well. Then her gaze dropped lower to the jeans riding low on narrow hips and a butt any woman would be tempted to ogle. The man would look good in anything.

Or nothing at all.

And where had that rogue thought come from? She shook it away and forced her thoughts back on track.

“I think a dark suit, a starched white shirt and a tie will work. Can you manage that?”

Ryan nodded. “Thank you,” he mouthed in her direction as Jasper left the room to return the outfits to the costume closet.

“Jasper is over the top, but he’s really one of the good guys. He fought to get this studio three entries in the competition since it’s here on the island. Regardless of who wins, the publicity will be great.”

“Yeah, he’s something all right. And thanks for stepping in about those costumes. You know as well as I that I probably could have worn either one.”

“True, but I’ve learned that a dancer who is comfortable in his attire is more relaxed and therefore is a better competitor. And given that you played Major League Baseball, I’m guessing you’re a competitor who likes to win.”

“Fu—uh, heck yeah. Isn’t that what it’s about? Winning? Why bother if you don’t give it one hundred percent?”

That was the attitude Amara liked to hear. She just hoped Ryan wasn’t a win-at-any-cost type – one who took too many chances and risks that could ultimately sabotage everything.

“So, you have the handouts and our practice schedule. I’ll give you a call once Jasper makes arrangements with Elegance about the shoes. Hopefully that’ll be early next week. Start wearing them around the house, but do not wear them outdoors or it’ll ruin the soles.” She confirmed his phone number from the info sheet provided by the Bucks management office. “So I guess I’ll see you Monday morning to get started. By the way, we’re dancing to “Sway” by the Pussycat Dolls. If you’re not familiar with the song I’ll send you a download link to the version we’re using and you can listen to it. You’ll want to be familiar with every second of the song so that once you learn the dance steps you’ll be able to put them to the music right away.”

“I know the song,” he said. “But send me the link so I can listen to the exact version we’ll be dancing to. Anything else?”

She shook her head. “Not at this time. I’ve probably overwhelmed you enough.”

“Not nearly as much as a tied score at the bottom of the ninth with the team depending on you to go three up and three down.”

Amara noticed that he rubbed his shoulder as he said the words. Jasper had mentioned Ryan used to be a pitcher and that a shoulder injury had ended his career prematurely. Surely he would have mentioned if dancing would bother it.

“See you Monday morning then. If you’re a coffee drinker, Jasper always has the coffee maker running, so don’t worry about bringing your own. And it’s the good stuff too.”

“Duly noted,” he said and made his way to the exit.

Amara stared at the door after he’d left the studio. Ryan Kidd really was easy on the eyes. A little over six feet and fit, his tee shirt had stretched across broad shoulders, and the sleeves were tight around his biceps. He obviously hadn’t let himself go after he’d stopped playing professionally.

The Florida sun had streaked his shaggy brown hair, and his steely-blue eyes had at times seemed to bore into her. She wasn’t angling to go out with him. Dating one of her dance students had always been a no-no. She didn’t mix business and pleasure. Between both teaching jobs and volunteering at the adult literacy program she hadn’t had time to date anyone in a long while. And a guy like him was probably taken – if she had been looking, that is.

She just hoped her dance partner’s wife or girlfriend would understand the time he’d be spending at the studio. With his good looks, she felt sure there was a woman in his life. Hopefully she wasn’t the jealous type.