removed his coat, leaving his tight navy sweater to accent every hard line in his upper torso. His faded jeans clung to his hips and cupped him snugly. Lori Lee swallowed.
“Yeah, and it’s not good.” Rick placed his toolbox on the floor and dropped his coat on top of it. “I’m afraid your unit is a dinosaur. I could make some repairs to keep it going and charge you four or five hundred bucks, but I couldn’t guarantee it would last a month.”
“I was afraid of that.” Lori Lee grimaced, thinking about telling Aunt Birdie that Rick Warrick would be replacing the old heating and cooling system for the studio. Her aunt owned both the building that housed the Dixie Twirlers and Lori Lee’s Sparkle and Shine costume shop next door. And her aunt was one of the two people who knew she’d once had a major crush on Rick.
“I can work up an estimate tonight and drop it by sometime tomorrow,” Rick said.
“Look, I’ve got to run.” Deanie waved goodbye. “Y’all don’t need me. I’ll call you. later, Lori Lee. Bye now.” Deanie kept waving all the way to the front door, then she giggled like an idiot as she slammed the door shut.
“I wish I could remember her,” Rick said. “She seems real nice. Are you two friends?”
“Best friends since we were kids. I’m her daughter Katie’s godmother.”
“She was your best friend in school? The skinny little giggling redhead who was always with you?”
“Then you do remember her. She keeps an auburn rinse on her hair now and she’s put on a few pounds, but she’s still the same giggling girl. She married Phil Webber. He was senior class president the year I graduated.”
“She told me her daughter is one of your students.” Rick shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “Are you taking any new students right now? I mean, I know it’s in the middle of the year and all.”
“I take new students all the time,” Lori Lee told him. “I have classes for ages three to fourteen, and I give private lessons to older girls and to students who excel, or those who need a little extra help.”
Rick glanced at the hot-pink mug she held in her hand. “Don’t let me keep you from drinking your coffee. It’ll get cold.”
“Oh.” She had forgotten all about the mug until he reminded her. “Would you care for some coffee? I just made a fresh pot.”
“It’d be too much trouble.”
“Don’t be silly. Sit down. I’ll get you some.”
Why had she invited him to stay? Why was she pouring him a cup of coffee? Had she lost her mind? A guy like this wouldn’t need much encouragement before he moved in and took over. She’d had sense enough at seventeen to steer clear of him. Why wasn’t she that smart now?
“How do you take your coffee, Mr. Warrick?”
“Black. And call me Rick.”
She handed him a mug, being careful not to touch him. “Please do sit down.”
When he sat on the sofa, she perched on the edge of the chair across from him. As they sipped their coffee, they stole quick glances at each other.
“How much do you charge for lessons?” he asked.
“I charge by the month. Two classes a week. The basic fee is thirty-five dollars, but that doesn’t include extras like costumes and—”
“I’d like to enroll my daughter.” He took several gulps of the hot black liquid, then placed his mug on the metal-and-glass coffee table in front of him. “She’s six, in the first grade at Southside. I’d like for her to make friends with the kind of little girls I saw here today.”
“Has she ever taken dance or baton lessons before?”
“Nope. But I bought her a baton for Christmas a couple of years ago and she plays with it all the time.”
“She would have to start out in the beginners’ class with our three-to-six-year-olds. When she begins to show progress, I’ll move her up into Twinkle Toes.”
“She’s sort of shy, and I’m afraid she’ll turn out to be a loner like her old man. I don’t want that,” Rick said. “I’d like for her to fit in and be accepted.”
The way I never was. He didn’t say the words, but Lori Lee knew what he meant. She hadn’t known much about Rick, except that he’d been shuffled from one foster home to another, and that his younger sister, Eve, had been adopted by a good family who hadn’t wanted Rick. No one had wanted the hellion he’d been back then.
“What’s your daughter’s name?”
“Darcie.”
“Well, bring Darcie by the studio tomorrow afternoon so she can meet the other girls in the beginners’ class, and we’ll show her what twirling is all about.”
“I don’t know if I can take time off from work tomorrow, but I’ll see what I can manage. If I can’t bring her, I’ll get my sister to.”
“You’re going to drop by with the estimate for the new heat and air system by tomorrow, aren’t you?” Lori Lee asked.
“Yeah.”
“Bring the estimate by at the same time you bring Darcie, that way you won’t be taking time away from your job,” Lori Lee suggested. “Since my Aunt Birdie owns the building, I’ll have her come over and talk to you while I show Darcie around the studio and introduce her to the other girls.”
“Yeah. Sure. Thanks.” Rick stood, walked over and picked up his coat. He slipped into it and lifted his toolbox. “See you tomorrow.”
“Yes, see you tomorrow. You and Darcie.”
She followed him, pausing when he opened the front door and turned to face her. “Look, Lori Lee, I know when I left this town, people were glad to see me go. I’d earned myself a pretty bad reputation.”
“That was a long time ago.” She could smell his sweat, not an offensive odor, just a rough, masculine scent that blended with the clean smell of his clothes and hair.
“I haven’t been a saint these past fifteen years, but I’m doing my best to settle down and provide a home for my daughter.” He stared into Lori Lee’s big blue eyes and felt himself drowning. If he’d known she had moved back to Tuscumbia, would he have come home? “Darcie is my main concern. Everything I do, I do for her.”
“I understand,” Lori Lee said.
He nodded, then turned and walked out the door and down the sidewalk to his parked minivan, Bobo Lewis Heating And Air-Conditioning printed on the side in bold black lettering. She stood in the doorway and watched him until he drove down Main Street and the van disappeared around the corner on Fifth.
She’d told him she understood his devotion to his child, and she did. If she had a little girl, she would make her daughter the center of her universe. But she could never have the one thing she wanted most—a child of her own. Regret knotted her stomach. Sorrow clogged her throat with unshed tears.
Lori Lee went back inside the studio, sat on the edge of her desk and flipped through her Rolodex, then made her first telephone call to cancel her private lessons for the day.
Lori Lee chopped up the pack of lunch meat into tiny pieces and dumped it into Tyke’s doggie bowl. The brindled Boston terrier jumped up and down, gazing at Lori Lee with huge brown eyes.
She set the bowl on the floor and petted Tyke on the head. “Here you go, baby. Eat up while I fix my supper.”
While Tyke gobbled up his meal, Lori Lee removed a single-serving casserole from the refrigerator and popped it into the microwave. As she waited for her dinner to warm, she poured herself a cup of coffee