Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 97724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
I’m so out of practice.
Mik would be disgusted.
This is when he’d lift me, my arms would wrap around his shoulders, and our mouths would be just inches apart, as if in a lovers’ embrace. This dance is passionate and intimate.
Romantic.
No one in that audience would believe Mik didn’t love me with the fire of a thousand suns. He’s such a talented performer.
I can almost hear the applause from the audience, the gasp when he lifts me high, and then the emotion radiated back to us when the song ends, and we’re locked in an embrace.
I run the music back and do it again and again until I feel loose and my form is perfect. My feet don’t love the new blisters, but that’s part of the art of it.
For the next hour, I can get lost in this piece of myself that I love so much. I can pretend that I’m still a prima ballerina, that I live in New York and see Mik every day. I can eat at my favorite restaurants, and I don’t have a crazy man determined to keep me terror-stricken.
Everything is as it was before, when I escape into the movement. God, I love it.
I jolt awake.
Something doesn’t feel right.
Is there someone in the flat? Connor’s in Milan.
I reach for my phone. “Oh, feck, where is it?”
Slam.
“Oh God …”
And I’d do anything to have it back, just for one day. For one performance.
For one moment.
Chapter Seven
BECKETT
I’m going to give this one more shot because I can’t get Skyla Gallagher out of my head, and I have a feeling I’ll regret it if I don’t do everything I can to get to know her better.
Those alluring eyes.
That thick red hair.
That voice that slips its way under my skin and heats me from the inside out.
I need to at least try because something tells me that she’s definitely worth the effort.
The bell above the door of Paula’s Poseys rings as I push through and see the owner, Summer Wild, fussing with a bouquet at the front counter.
“Hey, Beckett,” she says with a smile. “How can I help you today?”
“I need flowers, but I’m not sure what kind.”
“That’s what you have me for.” She sets her bouquet aside and gives me her undivided attention. “Who are they for?”
“Skyla Gallagher.”
Her eyebrow lifts, and her lips tip up in a smile. “I like where this is going. Is it for an occasion?”
I could tell Summer it’s to congratulate Skyla on her first recital, but let’s face it, this is a small town. Summer’s friends with my sister, so honesty is the only option.
“Yeah, it’s for please give me your number so I can take you out.”
Summer laughs now and nods. “We’re going to make this happen, my friend. Give me five minutes to do a little research, and I’ll put together something beautiful.”
“Have at it.” I grin at her and hear the bell over the door ring.
“Hey, blondie,” Chase says to his wife as he walks in. “Beck.”
“Hi, Chase.” I shake the man’s hand. Chase and I have known each other since we were kids, and I consider him a good friend. Our ranches aren’t too far apart, and our families have always been close. “Any crime to report out there today?”
He rests his hands on his policeman belt and shrugs a shoulder. “Nothing to speak of. How’s the milk business treating you?”
“I can’t complain.”
“I got it!” Summer exclaims as she rushes out of her walk-in cooler, carrying a bouquet.
“You’re fast.”
She grins at me. “I know my flowers. Okay, so Skyla is Irish. I don’t have any shamrocks or anything like that around here, but I do have ranunculus, which are a part of the buttercup family and grow in Ireland.”
“Wow, I just wanted pretty flowers, Summer.”
Chase laughs and runs his hands down his face. “It’s never just pretty flowers, man.”
“I guess not. Those look great, and I’m sure she’ll love them.”
“I hope they do the trick.” She wraps them up in pretty paper with a green bow and rings me up. Once I’ve paid, I make my way out of the store and walk the couple of blocks over to Skyla’s studio.
The door’s unlocked, so I step inside and pet Riley’s head when he perks up, but I don’t make any noise because … the woman is dancing, and all of the air has been stolen from my lungs.
She’s fucking spectacular.
I don’t know how her body can do what she’s doing. Up on tiptoes, jumping effortlessly into the air, her legs so high above her head.
I’ve never seen anything like it. She’s graceful and confident. So goddamn strong. Her muscles flex, and it’s clear that she works hard to be in such good shape with that much flexibility. So talented.
Skyla is exquisite. I’ve never been one to fantasize about what the perfect woman would be, especially not for me. In the back of my mind, I figured I’d be with someone who loves the land, who loves small-town life. Someone strong, both physically and mentally. Because let’s face it, I don’t want or need a doormat. Never have. But Skyla Gallagher has somehow crushed through those thoughts and has completely captivated me. She’s like a dream come true even though I’ve never dreamed of her.