Grant stood by the river, skipping smooth, flat stones across the surface of the water. He’d come here to think, not long after the sun was up. It was a quiet setting. Far from any homes or ranches. Far from the road that wound its way east. Most fishermen didn’t come to this spot, although Grant didn’t know why. He’d seen fish swimming near the banks. But he wasn’t about to ask any fishermen. He liked knowing he could come here and be alone, to think and to pray.
This morning, his thoughts and prayers were all about Skye Foster.
It wasn’t often that he felt as unsure of himself as he did right now. BC Grant had been arrogant and impudent. The new version of Grant was more levelheaded, more of a clear thinker, more prudent.
Prudent? He skipped another stone. Not exactly what I’d call what I said and did yesterday.
Maybe not, but he’d meant it. All of it. He wanted to find out where things might go between them. And he’d meant that kiss too. Those kisses. He was more than attracted to Skye. It wasn’t merely the desire of a guy for a beautiful gal. There was more to his feelings than that.
“But can I trust my feelings? The heart’s deceitful. Right?”
He tipped his head back and looked beyond his hat brim at the cloudless blue sky, as if expecting to find the answer written in the heavens. It wasn’t.
Skye was special. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he was afraid he would. This was new territory for him. He’d never expected to meet a girl who could change his mind about love and marriage. Not that Skye had changed his mind. Especially not about the latter. Not yet anyway.
But what if she did change it and then he discovered—too late—that he wasn’t cut out to be one half of a whole? What if he was meant to be a whole all on his own? Hadn’t the apostle Paul written that it was better to be single? Grant didn’t have to be like the rest of his family, rushing into love, rushing into marriage, rushing into having kids.
He shook his head as he scuffed his boot against the hard ground. He’d been sure of himself yesterday morning. Why all the doubts now?
Maybe because there’s already more between us than I know what to do with. Maybe because it scares me, not knowing what’s going to happen next.
He released a deep breath. Scared or not, confused or not, he would be with Skye this afternoon. He would hold her in his arms while the music played and while he tried not to step on her toes.
And if opportunity allowed, he would kiss her again.
Skye came around the corner of her dance studio at a quarter before the hour. The Jeep was parked at the curb. Grant leaned his backside against it, his legs braced, ankles crossed, face shaded by his hat brim.
Add a guitar and it’d make a great album cover.
“You’re early again,” she said with a smile.
He straightened away from the vehicle. “Guess I’m eager to get the footwork right.”
Heart tripping, she put the key in the lock and turned the deadbolt.
“Tell me something,” he said from nearby.
“What’s that?” The words were nearly inaudible, even to herself.
“You park in the back lot, but you don’t go in through the backdoor. How come?”
Well, that wasn’t what she’d expected him to ask. It left her disappointed, to say the least. She faced him. “Habit, more than anything. And the lock on the backdoor sticks sometimes, so coming around to the front is easier than fighting with it.”
“Mmm.” He pulled on the bar to open the door. “Maybe I should look at the lock and get it to stop sticking.”
“Sure. If you want to.”
Skye led the way inside, Grant following right behind. The interior of the studio was bathed in shadows. It was tempting to leave it that way. More romantic. But she forced herself to open the blinds and let in the sunlight. Best if she remembered why they were here. She’d promised Charity the entire wedding party would be the best dancing bunch this valley had ever seen.
“We’re going to work on the two-step today,” she said, heading for the stereo. “This is the Two-Step Dance Studio, after all.”
“What about that waltz we did last week? I didn’t master that yet.”
She smiled at the uncertainty in his voice. “You will. We still have time. I want you able to do at least two dances at the wedding. So we’ll get the basics of the two-step down this week, and next week we’ll start perfecting it and the waltz.”
He shook his head slowly but said nothing.
Skye selected a Josh Turner album from her collection of music on the iPod. Punching the control, she fast-forwarded to the last track, “Why Don’t We Just Dance.” Josh’s deep voice came through the speakers.
“Great song,” Grant said.