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Taking in the man across from her, she wondered if it was delusional to entertain the teeny-tiny possibility of moving forward with him. Was it too soon?
Probably.
But if she’d learned anything over the last month, it was that life was short. So, she planned to enjoy every moment.
A weight lifted from her shoulders.
Pretending she was a contestant on his game show, she leaned forward and spoke into an imaginary microphone. “A ballerina.”
His face lit up with a grin, and she almost swooned.
“Why a ballerina?” he asked, switching back to his normal baritone.
She shrugged. “I loved the sparkle and costumes and how they were just so graceful.”
The fire, plus the flush of shyness from talking about her long-forgotten dream, had her overheating. She pulled off the gray sweatshirt and tossed it to the floor, then shifted to hug her knees.
“I always loved the beauty of it all. How ballerinas could take beautiful music and make it even more beautiful.” A smile grew on her lips. “I must admit, though, the ballerina I wanted to be was not your average, ordinary ballerina. Oh no. She was also—secretly, of course—a superhero.”
“Really?” He drawled out the word, amusement on his face. “Please, do go on.”
“Well, growing up, my family had season tickets to the ballet. My sister, Kayla, and I were fans. We took classes, dressed up. The whole bit. We were complete girly girls.”
Kayla.
Her heart ached. Despite Kayla being three years older, they had always been best friends. Until Preston.
God, she missed her sister.
She pushed down the sadness and tried to focus on the happier times. “For my seventh birthday, my parents arranged for me to go backstage after one of the performances. It wasSleeping Beauty, which was my favorite, of course.”
“Of course.”
She chuckled. “After the show, we went backstage and met all the ballerinas. I distinctly remember how tired they were. They were all still gorgeous, mind you, but exhausted. They’d unwrapped their feet, and their poor toes were just mangled. Blistered and bloodied. Being so young, I got scared and immediately burst into tears.”
“You were sweet even as a kid,” he said.
“I guess.” She gave him an embarrassed smile. “Anyway, the lady giving us the tour was the director. She sat me down and told me not to worry. She said, ‘Ballerinas are tough. They aren’t scared by a little blood and pain. Ballerinas aresuperherotough.’ Being the wise age of seven, I took what she said literally and believed that all professional ballerinas fought crime when they weren’t onstage.”
She stretched out on the sofa, enjoying the memories. “From then on, I always wanted to be a ballerina-superhero. You know, fighting crime and preserving justice, but doing so in pretty, sparkly tutus with nice background music.”
Quinn pulled her ankles onto his lap and began massaging one of her feet. “You know, that explains a lot about you.”
She scrunched her face. “I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”
As he pressed his thumbs into her arch with the perfect amount of pressure, she relaxed into the couch.
Heaven. His hands were heaven.
“What about you? Did you always want to be in law enforcement?”
“Not at all.” He shook his head. “I was more of a troublemaker than anything. There was definitely no crime fighting—in sparkly outfits or otherwise—on my agenda. I guess you could say I was more of a practical kid.”
“Well?” She waved her hand in a circular get-on-with-it motion. “What did you want to be?”
His mouth opened, then shut. The corners of his eyes crinkled. “You have to promise you won’t laugh.”
She scoffed. “Are you kidding me? There’s no way I’m promising you that, mister. Well?”
