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You Shouldn't Kiss Me Like This
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You Shouldn't Kiss Me Like This
YouShouldn'tKissMeLikeThis
Pink Petal Books
Pink Petal Books, an imprint of Jupiter Gardens Press, publishes romance novels where the relationship is primary. It doesn’t matter if you want to read super erotic or sweet inspirational books. Pink Petal Books believes that love is a beautiful thing, no matter what form it takes . For more information about Pink Petal Books visit http://www.pinkpetalbooks.com/.
Additional Titles by the Author
Beginner's Luck
Beginning Again
Eternal Love
Forever After
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
YOU SHOULDN’T KISS ME LIKE THIS
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Copyright © KARENNA COLCROFT
Cover Art © 2011 by Winterheart Design
Edited by JENNIFER BOGS
ISBN# 978-0-9832624-5-9
Electronic Publication Date: FEBRUARY 2011
This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Jupiter Gardens Press, Jupiter Gardens , LLC., PO Box 191 , Grimes, IA 50111
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You Shouldn’t Kiss Me Like This
Karenna Colcroft
PPB
You Shouldn't Kiss Me Like This
Chapter One
Looking up into Stefan’s deep brown eyes, Erin placed her hand in his. With a smile, he stepped backward on the polished hardwood floor, leading her in the pattern of the dance. The count she’d learned years ago echoed in her mind as she followed him, moving perfectly through the steps.
“So you all see how it’s done, yeah?” Stefan smiled at Erin and released her hand to turn and address the class. “Same count and steps you just learned. Now you’ll be doing them with a partner. Ready?”
Erin sighed and scuffed over to the laptop computer that contained the class playlist. For six months now, since she’d decided to return to dancing after a few months’ break, she’d assisted Stefan in teaching the adult beginner West Coast Swing class at the dance studio near her home. For six months, she and Stefan had touched, gazed into each other’s eyes—
And gone their separate ways at the end of each night. They were instructor and assistant, nothing more, regardless of the shivery, tingly effect Stefan’s touch had on her. Sometimes she felt like a kid at a junior high dance around him, which both amused and annoyed her.
She cued up the song Stefan had chosen for this part of the class. Each night, they met an hour before class time to go over the steps and music. Each night, during that hour, Erin hoped that for once Stefan would take his attention off the class preparations and actually look at her. Speak to her as one person to another, instead of as an instructor to his assistant. Of course, that had never happened.
The music began to play, and the students began to move together. Erin and Stefan stood back and watched, checking the students’ footwork and partnering skills. One of the women tripped over her partner’s foot, and Stefan went over to correct their mistake.
As he demonstrated to the man what had gone wrong and how to do the steps correctly, Erin watched. Stefan moved more gracefully than any man she’d ever known. He made the dance look easy, even though she knew from experience how complex the patterns were. Anyone watching him would think they’d be able to dance as well as he did, even if they’d never been on a dance floor before. Seeing how fluidly he moved took her breath away.
Dancing with him, even more so.
After a couple minutes of working with the pair who’d tripped, Stefan signaled for Erin to stop the music. For the next half hour, they continued demonstrating steps, then watching the class attempt to perform them. Most of them seemed to enjoy themselves, and two or three caught on quickly enough and seemed to enjoy dancing enough that Erin expected they would continue on in classes. They might even make good competitive dancers someday if they chose to try.
Others seemed frustrated and tired. They probably wouldn’t be back.
Finally, Stefan held up his hands to quiet the chatter of the group. “Thank you all for coming. Remember, beginners’ classes every Tuesday and Thursday at seven. The more advanced class meets downstairs at the same time. If you want to stick around, social dancing will begin downstairs in about twenty minutes, and if you have any questions, Erin and I’ll be here.”
Several of the students gathered around them, asking about the classes and the steps. Stefan answered all questions with the same calm tone. Only his fidgeting and occasional narrowed eyes gave away his impatience. Erin doubted the students noticed, since they didn’t know him as well as she did.
Why is he in such a hurry tonight?
Soon all the students had gone downstairs for the two-hour dance that the studio held every class night so people would have the opportunity to practice the skills they’d learned. The dance was open to previous students as well as students from the beginner and advanced classes, and a former instructor who’d started a DJ business ran it. Stefan unplugged his laptop and gathered up the attached cords. “Class went pretty well tonight.”
“I think some of them were disappointed that they didn’t dance as well as you right off the bat.” She bent down to take his laptop case off the floor. “You make them believe it’s easy.”
“So do you. That’s why we’re the instructors.” He winked and took the case from her. “You did great with that one woman. I thought she was about to walk out until you went over and started working with her. She said she’s going to stay for the dancing downstairs.”
“Oh, good.” The woman he referred to had almost been in tears after the fourth time she’d tangled herself up in her own feet. She’d only needed a few minutes of one-on-one instruction to catch on, and Erin had been happy to help. She loved dancing, and even more, she loved helping others learn to dance.
“You staying for the dance?” Stefan asked.
“I think we have to.” For just a second, her mind wandered to the possibility of leaving with Stefan. Going out to dinner, walking along the river, anything to spend time together as two people interested in each other.
Of course, that would presume he had any interest in her at all, which didn’t seem to be the case.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He sounded disappointed. “The students expect their instructors to be there dancing so they can show off what they’ve learned. We aren’t really required to stay. They’re all grown-ups, so it isn’t like they need us to watch them.”
“It’s fun,” Erin pointed out.
“Sometimes.” He smiled. “Save me a dance or two, okay? That will make it a lot more fun.”
“Sure.” She kept her tone casual, but her heart gave a happy little jump.
Downstairs, in the larger studio where social dancing took place, some of the regulars who only showed up for the social dance greeted them. “My niece went to a dance competition over the weekend,” one older woman said. �
�She said they had some West Coast Swing dancers. Were either of you in that?”
“I don’t compete anymore.” Erin swallowed hard. She hadn’t competed in a year, since she’d lost Scott, her competition partner and best friend. After his accident, she hadn’t been sure she’d ever want to dance again. That was why she’d stayed away from the studio for several months, until she was sure she could go there without crying. She hadn’t given up dancing permanently, but she couldn’t imagine competing with anyone else as a partner.
In a few days, she would have to cope with the first anniversary of Scott’s death. Her eyes watered, and she had to turn away from the other woman.
“Oh.” The woman hesitated. “I thought… What about you, Stefan?”
“Not that one.” He glanced at Erin and took a small step sideways as if to shield her from the woman’s view. “I’m gearing up for a competition I help organize every year. A charity thing for cancer research, so I guess you wouldn’t really call it a competition. More of a fun thing with prizes.”
“Oh, that sounds interesting!” the woman said. “Do you participate too?”
Grateful to Stefan for the distraction, Erin nodded and smiled at the woman, along with the three other people standing there and walked out of the room. If she went into the restroom and splashed cold water on her face, maybe she wouldn’t cry.
In the restroom, she stared at her reflection in the mirror above the sink as the first tears trailed down her cheeks. She’d thought she had finished grieving Scott. Now, with the anniversary so close, she missed him nearly as much as she had right after his accident.
Two other women entered the room, and Erin quickly splashed some water on her face and grabbed a paper towel. “Are you all right?” one of the other women asked.
“Yeah, just a headache.” Erin forced a smile. “Thanks.” She hurried out of the room.
Outside the studio, she took a few deep breaths. If going home had been an option, she would have. Her lie about the headache had begun to turn to truth, and no one would mind if she didn’t stay for the entire two-hour dance. She didn’t want to leave, though. She wanted to dance. Dancing had always helped clear her mind.
For the next two hours, she stayed on her feet, moving through the basic West Coast steps with some of the students from that night’s class, and through more elaborate steps with some of the regulars. The music captured her mind as it always did, and she nearly forgot how upset she’d been.
She expected Stefan to ask her to dance. He didn’t. Each time she spotted him, he was either dancing with someone else or standing near the stereo talking to some of the regulars. Of course, he would dance with her if she asked, she knew that. Nearly every class night, she asked him to dance, and he never turned her down.
Tonight, she didn’t want to be the one doing the asking.
Shortly before the end of the night, he finally worked his way over to her. “Thought you planned to dance with me,” he said.
“I’ve been waiting.” She grinned. “What did you think, I’d throw myself at your feet and beg? You want to dance, ask me right, buster.”
He laughed and held out his hand. “May I have this dance?”
“Certainly.”
She let him lead her onto the floor. When the next song began, so did their movements, as if the music controlled their bodies. Dancing with Stefan here was even better than in class. In this setting, they had no limitations on the steps they could do. He led her through advanced steps and variations, and she didn’t miss a beat.
Some of the students nearby stopped to watch. Erin barely noticed. She kept her eyes only on Stefan, holding his gaze with her own. A small smile touched his lips, and something kindled in his eyes. Something she hadn’t seen there before.
He spun her into his arms. Instead of releasing her, he kissed her.
Startled, she looked up at him. Before she managed to speak, he returned to the dance, spinning her back to arms’ length and then leading her through another sequence of basic steps before spinning himself under her arm. He was tall enough that he needed to duck, which brought laughter from those watching.
The song ended, and he walked her back to the side of the floor. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She narrowed her eyes. “What did you do?”
“Um, it’s called West Coast Swing. You know, the dance we teach here?”
She shook her head. “You know what I mean. You shouldn’t kiss me like that. Everyone saw.”
“And that’s a problem?” He lowered his voice. “I shouldn’t kiss you, huh?”
“Not unless you mean it.” Her heart fluttered. Surely he hadn’t meant anything.
“Who says I don’t?” He grinned. “See you on Tuesday, Erin.”
Without waiting for her response, he walked out the door.
You Shouldn't Kiss Me Like This
Chapter Two
Five more days. Five days till I see Stefan again.
Four more days.
Three.
Since the classes she and Stefan taught only met on Tuesdays and Thursdays, Erin had to wait through an all-too-long weekend to talk to Stefan about the kiss. She had his phone number, but couldn’t quite bring herself to call. She’d wondered for months whether he was as interested in her as she was in him. Even after the kiss, she still wasn’t sure. She definitely wanted to find out, but not over the phone.
By Tuesday evening, she couldn’t stop fidgeting, and the butterflies in her stomach wouldn’t hold still. “I feel like a high school kid,” she complained through her bedroom door to her roommate Merit as she changed her clothes for class. She’d known Merit since high school, and they’d rented the apartment together their senior year of college. He tolerated Erin’s rambling and questions about guys, and she returned the favor on the rare occasions when a man had caught Merit’s interest. He was the one person in her life she’d always been able to talk to without worrying about judgment. “You know, does he like me or doesn’t he?”
“Guess you’ll find out tonight,” Merit replied.
Erin studied herself in her mirror. Normally she wore jeans to class. Tonight, she’d chosen a denim skirt, just long enough to avoid being called mini, and a light blue satin blouse she almost never wore because she always worried she’d spill something on it. The inch-heeled pumps she wore for dancing dressed the outfit up more than she’d intended, and she wondered whether she should go with jeans after all.
She opened the door. “How do I look?” she asked Merit.
He tilted his blond head, with the crew cut he’d gotten for his most recent role in the ballet company he danced for, and studied her with his dark blue eyes. “Nice. Ordinarily I’d say the blouse is a little much. If you’re feeling it, though, go for it. He can’t miss you in this.”
“So I should change?” she asked doubtfully.
“No, silly.” He gently shook her by her shoulders and grinned. “You should show yourself off and see if he responds. You’ve been mooning over the guy for months now.”
She laughed. “Mooning?”
“Yep.” Merit grinned. “You look good. Have fun at class.”
“And maybe after.” Erin winked, picked up her purse from the coffee table where she’d dropped it after work, and left.
As always, she arrived nearly an hour before class began so she and Stefan could go over the music and steps. She walked into their room upstairs to find Stefan standing by his laptop. “Found a few new songs,” he said without looking at her. “Take a listen and tell me what you think.”
All business. Understood. Apparently he didn’t intend to mention their kiss, and if he wouldn’t, neither would she.
She listened to the songs he’d chosen and they discussed which one would work best for practicing which steps until the students began to arrive. Then class began, and she danced with Stefan to demonstrate each sequence, looking into his eyes and feeling the music move through them.
At the end of class, after
the few stragglers who’d stayed to chat had followed the rest of the students downstairs, Stefan said, “Want to blow off social dancing tonight?”
Erin raised an eyebrow. “Why would I want to do that?”
“Because I’m so charming you can’t resist me?” He hesitated. “There’s a coffee place up the street. Want anything?”
She blinked. Did he just ask me out?
He tilted his head and stared at her. After a moment, she remembered that she hadn’t answered him yet. “Yeah, coffee would be good,” she said quickly.
His eyes lit. “That’s what I hoped you’d say.”
They went down the front stairs, which led to the lobby of the studio rather than into the large dance space. Some of the regulars had congregated in the foyer. They cheerfully greeted Erin and Stefan and asked Stefan about the competition he’d mentioned Thursday.
“The event’s a week from Saturday,” he said. “Everyone’s welcome to attend, and if you feel up to competing, you should try. We’re taking sign-ups until this Friday, so just tell me or email me and I’ll add your name to the list.
“How about you, Erin?” one of the women asked. “Are you going to be part of it?”
“I don’t think so.” She forced a smile and reminded herself that she had no reason to be upset by a simple question. “I don’t compete anymore.”
The woman nodded sympathetically. “Scott was one of my instructors here when I started learning West Coast. I still miss him. You two were great together.”
Erin’s eyes welled up, and she squeezed them shut for a second to keep any tears from falling. When she looked at the woman again, she couldn’t even manage a false smile. “Thank you,” she murmured. “I miss him too.”
The woman touched her hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t meant to upset you.”
“I’m all right.”
One of the men cleared his throat, and the woman turned away. Mercifully, music started to play inside, and the group hurried in.