in her arms. But Renata recovered first.
“Click.” Renata pointed at Pearl. “Take your child so Tandy can suffer with us.”
Tandy glared at Renata, then Click. He couldn’t possibly know how badly she wanted to get out of this. She was tired and emotionally drained. Holding Pearl soothed away the knots of the day, inside and out. Being groped and stepped on held about as much appeal as a hot poker to the eye.
Click held his hands up in surrender, his gaze shifting from Renata to her. His dimple appeared as his husky laugh bowled over her. There was a shift in the air, in her. Her irritation moments before was forgotten. Now there was only a molten throb deep inside. It was exciting to yearn like this. It had been so long. But it was also absolutely terrifying. It was always Click. He was beautiful. And tempting. And she was an idiot.
Time to learn from my mistakes.
Sitting there, holding his daughter, smiling and making small talk opened doors that needed to stay shut. She knew how real a threat he was. How easy it was to lose herself in him, to the sensations he stirred, and the strength of his arms. Something this fiery would only burn them both again.
Tandy stood, shifting Pearl into his arms as carefully as her shaking hands would allow. “Let’s do this,” she said, ignoring his startled expression and walking out onto the hardwood dance floor. “But you’re taking lead, Scarlett.”
Scarlett turned beet red, but she nodded, slipping the microphone around her neck. “Good evening, ya’ll. How many of you are having a great time at Fire Gorge?”
There was a general rumble of approval, but part of the job was building up the crowd.
“I didn’t hear anything,” Scarlett said, glancing at Renata. “Did you?”
Renata shook her head.
“How about you, Tandy?”
Tandy shook her head, planting her hands on her hips.
“Let’s try that again,” Scarlett said, her voice wavering. “Who’s having a good time here at Fire Gorge?”
That time, the crowd cut loose.
When the noise died down, she heard Pearl crying. Click was up, bouncing her in his arms as he paced back and forth behind the table. She fought the urge to offer help. It wasn’t her place. He was Pearl’s father. He’d calm her down.
But Pearl didn’t want to be calmed down. Tandy held off through the line-dancing lesson, telling herself over and over Click could handle it.
Pearl’s fretful “Ta-dee” was her undoing.
She crossed the dance floor, focusing on Pearl. Not Click. “Hey, hey, cuddle bunny. Hush now.”
Pearl hiccuped, leaning toward her. “Ta-dee.”
Tandy frowned. “Oh, Pearl. It’s okay.” She glanced at Click then.
“She wants you,” he said, his voice soft and gruff, at a loss.
“I don’t know why,” Tandy mumbled.
“She’s been through a lot in the last week.” He moved closer, shifting Pearl from his arms to hers.
This week hadn’t been what she’d signed up for either. But her thoughts shorted out when his hands brushed over hers. He smelled the same. Warmth rolled off him. And his hands, on her arms, sent a shudder down her spine. There was a sadness to him, a defeated quality, she’d never seen in Click Hale. She didn’t like it. “Seems to me you both have,” she whispered, pressing Pearl close.
His gaze met hers, guarded and wary. He nodded.
“Let’s dance,” she said, needing to break the tension between them. Now wasn’t the time for conversation. Her uncle would undoubtedly be watching them like a hawk. And Pearl was still out of sorts. “She’d probably like it.”
He nodded again, his gaze sweeping slowly over her face.
She carried Pearl back onto the floor, standing at the end of one of the lines. Click joined her, stepping into the stomps, spins and kicks with ease. As predicted, Pearl went from teary-eyed to wide-eyed, watching the smiling faces of the dancers around them. She giggled when Tandy dipped her, then spun them around. The dance steps were easy, most line dances were. By the second time through, people were catching on. By the time the dance was over, they were throwing in “Yee-haws” and whistles, and having a good time.
When the dancers clapped, Pearl clapped, too—and kept right on clapping.