Lori looked at Grayson in surprise. He’d never been to one of these before? He’d made it sound like they hadn’t had a choice. What reason could he have had to force her to come with him?

But before he could answer the woman’s question, more people started coming up to talk to him. He was, she realized, a very popular man. And yet, they hadn’t had a single visitor on the farm in the week she’d been working for him. It was almost as if everyone was scared of ruining the perfect wall of solitude he’d built up around himself over the past three years.

A short while later, a little girl with pigtails skirted through the adults’ legs to touch her dress, but just as Lori was about to bend down to say hello, the frosty woman pulled her away.

I’m not here to cause any trouble, Lori wanted to tell her. All I want to do is help Grayson, I swear.

The band began to play a song by one of her favorite bands, and from around the men with whom Grayson was talking about tractors, she could see the people on the dance floor trying to do a line dance. She craned her neck to see better, but her view was impeded where they were standing.

She felt Grayson’s thumb brush lightly across her palm as he said, “You want to dance.”

He said it as if he didn’t know that she wasn’t interested in dancing ever again, as if she hadn’t already told him that dancing meant nothing to her anymore.

“No,” she said firmly, even though she was getting that little itch in the soles of her feet that always happened when just the right song was playing. “It’s just that if, instead of doing a brush kick on the two, they pivoted—”

She realized, too late, that he was giving her a funny look, and clamped her lips shut.

“Sounds like you know this dance pretty well,” he pointed out.

She would have tried to play off her reaction to the line dancing, if right then Joe’s frosty wife hadn’t said, “Funny, you don’t look like the line-dancing type.”

Lori had never been known for her patience. And it had been one heck of a week. Between having to finally face what a total douchebag her ex was, and then the trials of not only learning to work Grayson’s farm, but also trying to push away her intense attraction to him, she was left holding on to an extremely short string.

“I was the choreographer for Lost Highway’s video.” She paused a beat to appreciate the shock registering on the woman’s face. “This is my line dance.”

The next thing she knew, Grayson was giving her a gentle shove in the direction of the dance floor and she was standing in front of the group of line dancers. Quickly picking out a couple of teenagers who had good timing, she explained who she was and what she’d like them to try to do with her. Scanning her dress and heels, they both looked at her like she was crazy, but when she started dancing, doing the moves as easily in her heels and fancy dress as she would have in boots and denim, their mouths dropped open.

As she ran through the moves of the line dance, a fancy stranger in the midst of a very tight-knit community, she realized she was the only one moving on the dance floor as everyone stopped to gape at her...apart from a really cute little girl Lori recognized from the CSA pickup, who didn’t seem to realize that anything strange was happening at all. With the music pumping through her veins, not the least bit daunted, Lori grabbed a teenage boy’s arm so that he could twirl her around in a modified do-si-do. By the time she let him go, the teen was grinning and jumping in beside her, picking up each move she’d just done perfectly.

Soon the two of them turned to half a dozen and, as the band launched back into the song from the beginning, it seemed like every person in the barn was claiming a spot on the dance floor to kick up their heels and laugh with the person twirling in their arms.

* * *

Grayson stood against the wall and watched as Lori worked her way through the dancers to help get them back on track and to call out the moves when things got a little hairy.

My God, she could dance. He’d never seen anyone move like her, not even in his old life, when he’d had the chance to mix with professional dancers from time to time.

Her dress was clinging slightly to her skin now as the barn heated up from all of the dancers, and her long, dark hair was starting to curl against the damp nape of her neck. Watching the way she moved so effortlessly in the heels and beautiful dress gave him a clear view into the world she’d come from. One that he guessed was very similar to the one in which he used to live in New York City.

And yet, she’d been just as comfortable in jeans and a T-shirt, and even though she muttered about going into the pigpen, he knew she secretly loved mucking around like a little kid let loose in a mud puddle after a storm.

Grayson honestly couldn’t choose which version he liked better—the made-up Lori was just another side of her, yet another one he hadn’t been prepared for. All he knew was that she was beautiful...and that, somehow, despite everything he’d done to try to stop it from happening, she’d managed to steal his heart one sassy smile at a time.

Chapter Sixteen

Applause rang out in the barn at the end of the line dance that had gone on for a good fifteen minutes straight. Lori loved how the little kids didn’t think twice about wrapping their arms around her waist to hug her.

“You’re so pretty, ma’am. What’s your name?”

Lori smiled down at the little girl with the big brown eyes and bright pink cheeks, the same one who had wanted to touch her dress earlier. She couldn’t have been more than four years old, but she’d been out there dancing up a storm, following the moves even better than most of the bigger kids and adults.

“Lori. What’s yours?”

“LuLu.” She barely paused for breath before saying, “You’ll be here for the next barn dance to teach us some more, won’t you, Ms. Lori?”

Lori felt a lump descend into the bottom of her stomach. Could she stay here forever? Could she hide out beneath the beautiful blue sky and have dirt under her fingernails every day? Could she dream about more of Grayson’s kisses?

Still feeling the rush of the dance floor beneath her feet, the thrill of moving her body to the music, instead of answering the little girl’s questions, Lori smiled down at her and asked, “Do you want to fly?”

The girl’s pigtails bounced as she nodded. “Oh yes!”

Lori held out her hands and when the little girl took them she winked and said, “Hold on tight.” And then she started swinging them both around in a circle, a perfect pirouette with a giggling partner’s sweaty little hands grasped tightly in hers. Again and again they spun until she thought the little girl must be getting dizzy, and finally put her down.

“Mama, Mama, did you see me?” the girl said to her mother as soon as her little cowboy boots hit the floor. “I was flying.”

LuLu’s mother no longer looked frosty as she stroked her daughter’s cheek. “Like a beautiful bird, baby.” As she hoisted her daughter up into her arms, the woman finally smiled at Lori. “You’re a wonderful dancer. Thank you for teaching all of us how to do the line dance tonight.”

Couples quickly paired up all around Lori as she stood and watched the mother and daughter walk away with a longing that frankly stunned her. When she’d been line dancing, she’d felt like she belonged, that she wasn’t just some city girl playing around on a farm.

But now that aloneness came back to hit her smack dab in the center of her chest with a hard thud.

The lump in her throat grew bigger as she caught sight of Eric grinning at her from across the barn. She smiled back and when he started to move toward her with the clear intention of asking her to dance, she fought to keep her smile in place. Eric was sweet. He was good looking. He was a gentleman. He was everything she should want, especially in the wake of the snake her ex had turned out to be.

But, stupid her, who did she wish was coming for her on the dance floor, instead? Grayson, who was more deeply wounded than any man she’d ever met before.

When Eric was less than a dozen feet away and she was just about to make herself move toward him, a large hand suddenly took hers and she was spun into a hard chest.

The very hard chest she’d been so foolishly dreaming of.

Lori was so stunned—and so pleased to be close to Grayson again as he led her in a country waltz—that she simply laid her head against his shoulder and moved with him.

Just one dance. That was all it was.

One perfect, beautiful, impossibly romantic dance with a man who made her heart pound like crazy and her brain turn to mush.

There were a million reasons why she shouldn’t be here in his arms, moving to the music. And yet she was so dazed by the sure way he led her across the floor, so wrapped up in the dance, in the feel of his body against hers, his muscles contracting against her, that there was no room for thinking, no space to do anything but be putty in his talented hands.

Second by second he’d taken over more of her thoughts, her dreams, until she had begun to forget what her life had been like before he was in it. All she knew now was that it couldn’t have been as full of sparks, emotion...or desire.

Even the waltz, a dance she’d done a thousand times before, both on stage and off, had never been this wonderful. This special.

When the song finally came to an end, Grayson drew her tightly into his arms and held her there for a long moment. The band had started to play yet another waltz but she knew she couldn’t survive another dance with him.

Not if she wanted even one small piece of her heart to remain intact when she finally left his farm to go back to her real life.

She tried to move away, but he wouldn’t let go of her hand. “You’ve been dancing for a while now with no break. You need lemonade.”

He didn’t ask her if she wanted one, just took her to the table on the side of the room where the two teenagers she’d been line dancing with were flirting now. He got her a cup and he was right—she was thirsty, so she drank it.

Lori told herself she shouldn’t feel so weird around him now. Not when it had just been one little dance. But, oh, what a dance it had been. And when she closed her eyes, she’d be returning to it in her daydreams for a very long time.

Trying desperately to act like it was no big deal, she said, “You’re a good dancer.” Knowing that compliment was far too grudging for just how talented he was on his feet, she amended it to say, “Actually, you’re a fantastic dancer.”

The last thing she expected him to do was say, “Thank you,” then reach out to brush a strand of hair from her cheek and push it behind her ear.

She shivered at his touch. Didn’t he know just how dangerous this territory was that he was heading into with her? First the dance, and now a touch so gentle, so sweet, that it tore at her already weak heart. She knew how to deal with rough, rude Grayson. But this? She had no idea what to do now...especially not when she coupled his sudden tenderness with the way he’d touched her—as if she was precious.

“Where—” she began, but the way he was gazing down at her with such dark eyes had her losing her train of thought. Oh God, this was such a bad idea. She needed to keep on track. He was her boss. She was his farmhand. He was country. She was city. When they weren’t kissing, they were both driving each other crazy. “Where did you learn to dance like that?”

“Years of ballroom dancing lessons.”

For a moment she thought he was kidding, but then she remembered what he’d told her about where he’d come from. It was just that he was such a part of the land, such a cowboy at heart, had such a love for the farm, that she kept forgetting about his previous life in New York City.

What he’d created all by himself out here in the wilds of Pescadero was truly amazing. Maybe at first she hadn’t appreciated just how much hard work went into taking care of his animals, his crops, his crew, the customers who depended on the food he grew for them, but after a week of working with him, she did now.