From Fling To Wedding Ring

‘Perhaps I could come back some time and paint a mural on the wall to brighten things up a bit?’ She was already thinking of how she could add trailing vines and other elements inspired by nature to give the workspace more colour and character and make it seem more homely and less clinical. If he was willing to offer an olive branch there was no reason she couldn’t do the same.

‘That would be amazing! Thank you.’

‘The reason I actually came here—’ She tried to steer them back towards the purpose of the visit before she ingratiated herself any further into this little group.

‘Would you like a tour?’ In his delight at having secured another member into their army, he apparently didn’t seem to care about why she was here and only that the enchantment of watching their endeavours would keep her here.

Before she could decline he’d rested his hand in the small of her back and was gently manoeuvring her towards the source of the noise hammering away in the background. Even though he was touching a part of her body that didn’t usually cause her any discomfort—untarnished by jagged reminders of the accident—that slight contact made her skin burn with the same self-awareness. It was a long time since anyone had laid a hand on her but she was going to have to get used to it if she was expecting to take up ballroom dancing.

‘This is Tom, our man in charge.’

He seemed oblivious to the tingling sensation he was causing to ripple across her skin as he introduced her to the older man in the navy coveralls and safety glasses. In the end she had to take a step away to break the contact under the guise of saying hello to Tom, who was planing long lengths of wood at the back of the shop.

Ben continued with the tour to show her the fruits of their labour lining the walls. ‘The men start off with small projects, such as planters and bird boxes, which they go on to sell and raise funds for more materials, but the experts like Tom here have progressed to things like dog kennels and tables. We even recycle the offcuts of timber and bag them up for firewood to help with the costs. We don’t like to waste anything here.’

Including time, Mollie suspected, which brought her back to the reason she’d spared some of hers to come here tonight. ‘I’m very impressed with the whole set-up but I actually came here to tell you I’ve had a change of heart over the dance competition. I am going to take part after all. If it’s not too late to re-register my interest?’

She didn’t enjoy portraying herself as indecisive or as flaky as some of her family members when she’d always prided herself on being the reliable one. This turnaround only hours after denying all knowledge of her addition to the list of competitors could seem as though she was just being contrary this afternoon because he’d interrupted her clinic.

He raised an eyebrow but thankfully didn’t question the change of heart. ‘Not at all. It saves me having to strong-arm a reluctant replacement to make up the numbers.’

Somehow she doubted he’d have trouble trying to persuade anybody to do anything. If she’d waited until tomorrow to tell him there would probably have been a queue of women waiting to take her place in his good books. It was the sound of her sister’s voice in her head telling her she needed to get a life of her own that stopped her from backing out again. She might’ve made the mistake in thinking he cared about who took part in this competition but Talia was probably right—it would do her good to do something out of her usual routine.

‘So, is there an information day or something where the couples will be announced?’ Now she’d committed to taking part she was keen to know the finer details, and her mother had forced her to watch enough of those dancing shows to know it was a big deal to find out who you were paired with. Okay, she doubted there were any celebrities in the mix, but she was sure they’d create something of a buzz to kick-start the interest in tickets for the event. Although she wasn’t eager to get up close and personal with her colleagues any time soon, it might put her mind at rest if the other half of her team had some sort of dance experience. She didn’t want to be the joke act of the competition, literally being dragged around the floor with all the grace of a baby elephant.

‘We did the launch this afternoon. That’s why I came looking for you...’ He shrugged an apology but Mollie was happy to have dodged whatever spectacle had taken place. She wouldn’t be so lucky next time.

‘Sorry. I really didn’t mean to mess you around.’ It was Talia who should be taking the heat for this and standing here hanging her head in shame, not her. She might have covered for her sister’s screw-ups when they were kids but, as she was professing to be a grown-up now, this was the last time.

‘No harm done.’ Either the paint fumes had got to him or he was genuinely a much more relaxed man outside work, because he didn’t appear fazed at all by the inconvenience.

Mollie, on the other hand, had spent every second since clocking off having this conversation in her head, imagining being forced to make a grovelling apology while his temper exploded again like Bonfire Night fireworks. Now she was wondering if she should have worried at all and simply left things alone.

‘If you could give me the details of whoever my partner is, I’ll be on my way.’ A name or a number would be sufficient so she could go and collapse into a puddle of nervous exhaustion at home and let him get on with his second job here.

‘That’ll be me.’ He carried on cleaning his paintbrushes on the dirty rag he’d pulled from his pocket and no one would ever have guessed he’d just turned her world upside down.

‘You?’ She waited for him to burst out laughing and tell her he was only joking, and that actually John, the elderly porter at the clinic, was her real partner. That would have been preferable to the thought that she was expected to spend the next weeks grinding up against the hospital hunk when the mere brush of his hand at her back had her jumping as if she’d been scalded.

‘That’s not going to be a problem, is it?’

Yes, it was going to be a problem! She could scarcely be in the same room as him without getting all hot and bothered and frustrated at herself for finding him attractive despite all those qualities that normally made her want to run in the opposite direction. Not only was he rumoured to be the workplace Lothario, but she’d seen him when things didn’t go his way and she had no intention of inviting another volatile man into her life. She didn’t want to be fooled like her mother and get hurt as a result.

Although none of what had happened tonight was making any of this easier for her. She didn’t need to see a softer guy who did charity work and didn’t get upset when she changed his plans at the last minute—that wasn’t going to help her get over this nonsensical crush that made her pulse race every time their paths crossed. Neither was spending countless hours of rehearsal time pressed cheek to cheek and everything else up against him, but what choice did she have now? It was going to be pretty obvious the issue she had was a personal one if she pulled out now, and not the one he would probably assume. Retreating from the situation was just going to lead to more friction at work, since there was no way she could tell him the real reason she didn’t want to be paired with him. She was in a no-win, no-escape-from-this-attraction situation. All she could do was hope it would end once the pressure of the competition claimed her attention.

‘No. Of course not. I’m looking forward to dancing with you.’ The lie burned her tongue. Her scars already felt as though they were shining out from beneath the tattoos, declaring her damaged goods in comparison to the numerous beauties he’d been linked to in the past.

She could imagine twirling around the floor, the raised skin where she’d been sewn back together mapping out the story of her life beneath his fingertips and making him recoil in disgust. It wouldn’t be the first time a man had rejected her because of the way she looked, although she’d sworn it would be the last time anyone would have the opportunity to get that close. The dent in her confidence had been partially repaired with the magic of a tattoo needle, but even that only managed to disguise the trauma her body had gone through from a distance.

‘Dancing? Who’s dancing?’ One of the elderly gentlemen who’d been pottering around nearby now sidled up to engage in the conversation.

‘We’re just talking about the competition, Grandad. This is Mollie, from work. She’s going to be my partner. Mollie, this is my grandfather, Hugh Sheridan.’ There really was no need for Ben to make the introduction as the family resemblance was obvious. Although the hair was a lustrous snowy white and the brilliant blue eyes surrounded by deep laughter lines, Mr Sheridan senior was basically an older version of his grandson.

‘Nice to meet you, Hugh.’ She reached out her hand to greet him but, rather than shaking it, he lifted it to his lips and dropped a kiss there instead.

‘Lovely to make your acquaintance, Mollie.’

The old-fashioned flattery brought a flush to her cheeks and it was easy to see where Ben had inherited his charm from.

‘I taught Ben everything he knows,’ he said, with that same twinkle in his blue eyes she’d seen in his grandson’s on her arrival.

‘I’m sure you did.’ There was probably a Sheridan Handbook for Seducing Women tucked somewhere between the family photos, she surmised, given how easily she’d already fallen for their routine.

‘I was quite the mover in my day.’ As if to prove the point, he tugged Mollie towards him, put her hand on his shoulder and began to sway. With one hand gently resting at her waist, he whisked her around the floor, moving so quickly it stole her breath away. He was such a strong lead, so adept, it didn’t seem to matter she didn’t know the steps to whatever song he was humming. Ordinarily she would’ve been mortified by the display they were putting on for the others in the room, but there was something reassuring in the confidence of her partner’s steps that put her at ease. If Ben had indeed inherited his grandfather’s skills as well as his looks, they might actually be able to salvage something of this shambles.

* * *

‘Put her down, Grandad.’ Although Ben was always delighted to see his grandfather having fun and being his old smooth self, he didn’t want it to be at the expense of Mollie’s comfort levels.

He’d been afraid to question what had prompted her decision to take part again for fear of scaring her off when she was clearly already skittish about participating. After their previous run-in it was a big step for her to seek him out here, especially when she’d so vehemently denied entering the competition in the first place. He certainly didn’t need his grandad scaring her off again. Not everyone responded well to having him around.

Hugh spun Mollie out with a final flourish that sent her off balance in her peep-toe spotty wedges and forced Ben to step in before she clattered into the nearby metal shelving.

‘Sorry,’ Mollie mumbled into his chest as she collided into him, her hands warming the skin beneath his T-shirt. He was lost in those eyes staring up at him, shifting from green to blue like the ever-changing tides. He’d always thought her pretty but seeing her up close like this, away from the work environment, he was free to appreciate the beauty of her quirky style. Not only did she look like one of those sexy fifties’ pin-ups, but she emitted that same look-but-don’t-touch vibe. Especially when she was pushing away from him and putting as much distance between them as possible. A detail that could prove awkward for the purposes of her visit.

‘You’ll have to work on your showmanship if you want high scores from the judges. They like a bit of flair.’ His grandfather was oblivious to any discomfort he’d caused as he went on to critique his unsuspecting dance partner.

‘I’ll remember that.’ Mollie humoured the comment with a smile and retrieved her red and black, cherry-embossed bag from the floor where it had fallen in the melee. She brushed the sawdust off it and Ben hoped it wasn’t one of those designer pieces that cost more than a small car.

‘Gran and Grandad were ballroom champions in their day. They were the ones who taught me to dance.’ It had been an attempt to instil some discipline and respect into their wayward grandson. Like any sullen teen, he hadn’t appreciated it at the time, but now those steps reminded him of that precious time he’d spent with people who’d loved him and genuinely wanted the best for him.

In the beginning Ben had thought engaging him in the fundraising efforts was a good idea since they were dealing with two areas very close to his heart. After this display he was beginning to think his involvement might turn out to be more detrimental than beneficial to the cause. Still, he wasn’t doing this to win any glitter-ball trophies. At least here, under supervision, his grandfather was still made to feel useful, undertaking the less perilous tasks of sanding down the wood.

‘Perhaps you’d be able to show us a few pointers when the time comes?’ It was refreshing to find Mollie offering to involve his grandfather in the proceedings when so many often regarded him as a nuisance. Including his ex, Penny, who’d seemed to regard him as competition for Ben’s attention.

That simple acceptance had his grandfather grinning from ear to ear. ‘I like this one, son. She’s much nicer than that last one.’

The slap he gave Ben on the back before he walked away whistling almost knocked the air from his lungs. It was as close to a compliment as anyone could get from him. These days he wouldn’t be long making his opinion known if he found fault with anyone. Another reason he and Penny had found it impossible to even be in the same room together. He’d frequently commented on his dislike for her and Ben wasn’t altogether convinced it had solely been down to his condition. With hindsight he’d concede her actions at times could’ve been considered selfish, especially when she’d given him the ultimatum between choosing her or his grandfather—a contest she could never have hoped to win. Ben owed him too much, loved him too much, to throw him on the scrapheap without a second thought.

Unfortunately, this unconventional introduction left him having to make an explanation to his work colleague about a part of his life he tried to keep private. He did his best to keep the details of his grandfather’s decline in health since his retirement out of the public domain, but that secrecy had left Ben’s own personal life open to speculation and exaggeration. A price he was more than willing to pay to preserve the reputation his grandfather had built over the years as an eminent local GP.

‘Sorry about that. He didn’t get along with my ex.’

‘She didn’t like dancing?’ The droll reply managed to make him laugh and he appreciated the attempt to remove some of the awkwardness of having to discuss his personal life with her. He wouldn’t have blamed her if she’d taken great delight in hearing about his failed relationship when he hadn’t been the nicest person to her in the past, but it obviously wasn’t in her nature to be malicious. It gave him hope that, whatever personal issues were uncovered during their time together in preparation for this competition, she wouldn’t try to use them against him. Plus, that sense of humour he hadn’t known she possessed might actually help make this experience less of a chore for them both.

‘Not a fan of Hugh Sheridan’s in general.’ It occurred to Ben that he’d had no idea if Penny enjoyed dancing or not. In their eighteen months together he couldn’t remember a time when they’d actually done it for fun. They’d attended all the usual evening functions together that demanded their attendance as representatives of the hospital, but she had always seen them as a way to make connections rather than an excuse to cut loose on the dance floor with him.

‘Ah. Do you two come as a package deal?’