“Tiny, what I meant was that Gloria likes to keep herself very put together, and if she sees you in yoga class, she may feel a little shy or awkward. But I think if you approached her in some other way or at some other time, you’d have better luck.”
“You think? You’re her friend. Do you think I have a shot?”
Knowing Gloria . . . yes. Tiny had a pretty good shot. “Yes, I do.”
That sparkle lit his bright blue eyes.
“In fact, I happen to know that she does, upon occasion, go to the Wednesday night square dancing at Saint Bart’s. I could find out if she’ll be there this week.” She’d promise anything if it would help get them back to work.
Tiny’s face fell again. “Square dancing? Oh, that’s no good. I’d just end up watching her have fun with all the other guys because I don’t know how to square-dance.”
“I can teach you,” said Wyatt, finally joining the conversation. “I’m a decent caller.”
“How you gonna teach him all by himself?” Horsey asked. “Square dancing has to happen in pairs. And you need at least . . .” He counted on his fingers. “Four pairs. And four pairs of people would be . . .” He counted on his fingers again. “That would be eight people.”
“Well, we’ve got seven people right here,” said Georgie.
“Six dancers. I’m the caller,” Wyatt said.
Emily really needed her people to be working today. Not square dancing. But Tiny looked so sad, and the truth was, he and Gloria would make a damn fine couple. And maybe if she got those two together it would make up for all the bad karma she was creating by trying to break up the romance between Tag and Lilly. If there was some sort of karmic score sheet, maybe this would balance things out.
“I can get Chloe and Gigi,” she said.
Ryan had seen a collection of interesting things while on this island. A pink restaurant, people in colonial military garb during a tour of the fort with Tag, and slabs of fudge being made. He’d watched his father fly an airplane and ride a bike, and he’d even seen two horses getting it on. In short, Ryan had learned to expect the unexpected around here, but what he never would have anticipated on this mild Tuesday afternoon was seeing a group of wild and mangy guys in work boots dancing around in the front yard of a Victorian cottage while some sort of twangy, hillbilly hoedown music played from a tiny set of speakers. There was a huge guy with a bald head and tattoos, a Mohawk-ed girl with even more tattoos, and a couple of guys so skinny they could blow away in a strong breeze. The last guy did not fit in with all the others and must certainly be the infamous Yoga Matt. Chloe and Gigi were there, and right in the thick of it all was Emily, a big smile on her face and the sound of her laughter louder than any of the rest of them.
“No, I said promenade, Garth. Not spin your partner.” A dark-haired man with a long braid sat on the railing next to the speakers.
“That’s your left hand, Horsey. Use your right,” Chloe called out over the general mayhem.
“Do I lead with my right foot, then?” someone asked.
“No, your left foot,” someone answered.
Whatever was going on here, clearly no one was really in charge. Ryan observed from the side of the house for a minute, until he found his head bobbing in time with the music. Oh hell no. He was not going to start liking square dancing. It was bad enough that Tag was so fascinated. He stepped out from his spot in the shade and walked up to the group.
“Hello?” The music stopped, and everyone turned to look his way.
“Hey, Ryan,” Emily gasped, pushing an errant strand of hair away from her face. She was flushed and disheveled, and it hit him in the gut like a sucker punch. That’s probably just what she’d look like after a good roll in the hay, and suddenly all his determination to keep everything between them strictly business evaporated. Stupid dopamine. No wonder his father enjoyed square dancing.
“Hey, yourself. You told me to stop by, but I didn’t realize you were having a hoedown.”
“Not so much a hoedown as a dance lesson. Let me introduce you to everyone. Chloe you know, of course.”
“Hi, Ryan.” She waved as if he was not just feet away from her.
“And of course you met my grandmother, Gigi O’Reilly-Callaghan-Harper-Smith. She owns this place.”
She made the rounds, saying names like Tiny and Horsey, and he shook everyone’s hand. They were polite enough, but with the exception of the infamous Yoga Matt, every single one of them, even the young woman, eyed him with some suspicion. He’d run into this kind of reaction from construction crews before. If you didn’t have calluses on your hands, they didn’t trust you.
“Well, I guess we’ve had enough dancing for today, gang,” Emily said. “How about if you all take a lunch break while I show Ryan around.”
“Sure thing, Miss Chambers.” Tiny nodded. The group turned and headed toward a little shady spot where a beat-up picnic table sat.
Emily, Chloe, and the grandmother who continued to undress him with her eyes stood at the bottom of the steps, and Ryan turned to get his first good look at the place.
“So, what do you think of the outside of the cottage?” Emily asked.
Ryan had to smile. “I think calling it a cottage is misleading. It looks huge. A house this size in Sacramento would not be considered a cottage.”
“Most of the houses on the island are called cottages because they were built as summer homes for rich lumber barons and such back in the eighteen hundreds. It’s got about three thousand square feet, but unfortunately about five square feet of that is kitchen, so I’m trying to figure out how to upgrade everything while keeping the charm.”
“Well, let’s go inside and have a look.”
Two hours later, Chloe and the grandmother had left, the crew was downstairs making a ruckus, and it was just him and Emily standing in an upstairs bedroom. Listening to her describe all the plans she had for the cottage had made the time fly by. Her enthusiasm was engaging, and he was more than a little impressed by her knowledge. Not that he hadn’t expected it.
“If I can figure out a way to replace these windows with something more energy efficient without losing the historical charm, that would be ideal. Haven’t figured that one out yet. I’d also really love to make them bigger since the view from this room is one of the best in the house. See that lilac tree? It’s about one hundred years old.”