The Way We Touch: or Wrangling the Wide Receiver (The Bradford Boys)

The Christmas show is next week, and we’ve been rehearsing after school every day. Austin and Mia dance like true partners now. They predict each other’s movements, and he hasn’t dropped her since that time before Thanksgiving. Confidence guides them, and I’m so excited for her auditions.

Invitations are slowly filtering in, and she brings them to me every time. It’s almost like it’s happening to me again, which I know is silly.

The entire class stays after for rehearsals now. They’re performing a modified version of “Waltz of the Flowers” from The Nutcracker, and Josh and Sally are doing a modified version of “Mirlitons,” or “The Dance of the Flutes.”

We’re finishing up for the day, and Mia and Austin are moving through the combination of little jumps, arabesque, and the lift. They come down with a plié bow, and the entire class breaks into applause. Josh even lets out a sharp whistle.

I can’t keep the smile off my face. As important as teaching them ballet has been to me, I’ve also done my best to foster a non-competitive, supportive environment—something I didn’t always have in my own classes.

“Good work, everyone!” I smile, giving them the signal they can go, and they begin collecting their books and backpacks, changing their shoes.

I’ve got to get to the restaurant. It’s Thursday, and Logan wants to learn to make this week’s Dare dish with me. Craig says he’s nuts, but I’m excited.

He’s been spending a lot of time with Zane, and he’s finally off those crutches, which had a bigger impact on his attitude than I realized. He’s less angry, and he even seems eager, like he’s formulating a plan.

I wish I could keep him here with me always, but I know he had things he wanted to accomplish this year. I’m glad he’s gotten his second wind, even if it means once he’s strong enough, he’ll be headed back to the city.

My heart sinks when I think of having to watch him play another season, of us being separated, and all the longing. I don’t know what I’ll do if he’s hurt again, but that’s the life of a football WAG… something I never dreamed I’d be.

“Miss Dylan?” Mia’s voice halts me as I’m headed for the door.

The worry lining her young face makes my stomach drop, and all my fears are momentarily set aside. “What’s wrong?”

She nervously looks around the space as if to be sure everyone is gone. Then she steps forward, clutching my arm.

“Did you ever feel like you couldn’t do it? Like it’s all too much?” She releases me and paces away. “It’s all happening so fast, and yeah, I’m good here, but I’m not New York good.”

Pressing my lips together, I collect my thoughts. Her back is to me, and I see her shoulders rising and falling rapidly with her panicked breathing.

“Hey.” I slowly walk across the stage to where she’s standing, taking her hand in mine. “Of course, I felt that way. Everybody does, but you dance through it.”

“It’s more than that.” Tears are in her eyes, and her face drops. “Who am I to think I can be a prima ballerina? I’m just a girl from Newhope, Alabama.”

“It’s true. Right now, that’s all you are.” Dipping my chin, I catch her eye. “Natalie Varnum was just a girl from Dothan, and now she’s a lead dancer with the Houston ballet.”

Mia’s brow furrows, and she swallows her tears. “I’m so afraid.”

Stepping closer, I pull her into a hug. “If you weren’t afraid, I’d be worried you were a narcissist. Everyone is afraid. No one knows if they’re good enough or what directors want, but we keep trying anyway.” Releasing her, I touch her chin. “But I think you’re good enough. I believe in you, and I can’t wait to see how high you fly.”

Her lips press into a smiley-frown, and tears spill onto her cheeks. “Thank you, Miss Dylan.”

I exhale a smile, tapping my fingers against my own eyes. “I’ve got to get to the restaurant, but you keep that chin up.”

“Parallel to the floor?”

“Always.”

“I’m so proud of you. I knew you’d be the best teacher.” Craig beams at me from a safe distance on the other side of the metal table in the kitchen at Cooters & Shooters. “That little Mia has no idea the torture we endured under Ms. Westwood. Was she Russian?”

“She wasn’t Russian!” I lean forward with a laugh. “She was just old-school.”

Logan was supposed to help me with the recipe tonight, but at the last minute he got all mysterious, saying he had a big surprise for us. Then he took off in Zane’s Jeep.

“What do you think that old bat would’ve said if you’d started crying and said you didn’t think you were good enough?”

“Oh, man.” I shake my head, picking up a spoon to scoop the middle out of an avocado. “She’d have probably said something like if I thought that, then I probably wasn’t good enough.”

“Then she’d have made you do seventeen minutes of pirouettes.”

“Until someone cut those red shoes off my feet,” I cry, quickly slicing a plum tomato and tossing it into the bowl.

“God, that story.” Craig does a full-body shiver. “What was wrong with Hans Christian Andersen?”

“He was Danish.”

“The old ways weren’t the best ways.” Thomas leans his head in as he passes us on the way to the stove. “You did the right thing for that little girl, and you were better than good enough.”

“Thank you, Thomas.” I call after him.

I grab the kosher salt, a lemon, a lime, a pinch of cilantro, then it’s time for the star ingredient.

“Trinidad Scorpion.” My eyes widen as I lift the round, red pepper.

It’s about the size of a small tomato with wrinkled skin and a pointed tip.

“Where did you find that thing?” Craig lifts the bar towel over his nose and mouth.

“Crosby, Mississippi—can you believe it?” I slide on my gloves and grab a knife. “These little guys are almost as hot as the Carolina Reaper, but it’s a sweet heat that builds and builds and builds…”

Allie breezes into the room, scooping up her apron. “Ooo, who’s this little guy?”

She steps over and leans in to watch as I slice off a long sliver. “Trinidad Scorpion.”

Her eyes widen. “What’s the warning tonight?”

“This one’s wild.” I carefully chop the sliver into tiny pieces before transferring a teaspoon into the bowl of guacamole. “If you took a bite of this raw, you’d have like five seconds of happy thoughts before your whole mouth went numb, then you’d start sweating and hiccuping uncontrollably.”

“Hiccuping!” Craig yells from where he’s standing beside Thomas now. “Put that thing in the freezer before Logan gets back and eats it.”

“I’m pretty sure he knows better than to eat anything in this kitchen without asking.” I walk over to start another batch of the scorpion guacamole. “I think the avocado oil will make it a little less potent, but we’ve got to warn people just because they don’t feel it right away, don’t eat more too fast. Put out plenty of ice cream for them and honey. A teaspoon of honey will neutralize it.”

“Gotcha.” Allie nods.

“It’s an inferno.” Craig nods, pulling out his phone. “I’ve got just the song for it.”

“What’s this I heard about your ballet star having a meltdown after rehearsals this afternoon?” Allie leans her hip against the table, crossing her arms.

“How did you hear about that?” My eyebrow arches, and I know. “Austin?”

“He was worried about her.” She shrugs. “I think he’s crushing hard, but Mia is very focused on dance schools.”

“She’s a senior.” I wrinkle my nose, returning to the guacamole.

“Is she okay?”

“Yeah, imposter syndrome is a bitch, but I hope I talked her off the ledge. She’s so talented.” I glance up at my friend. “Austin’s actually pretty good himself. He’s strong from his football workouts, and he’s flexible. Who knew football and ballet went together so well?”

“Anybody who knew your family,” Thomas calls from where he’s mixing the ground beef.

“Anybody who knew our family, what?” That loud, boisterous voice makes my heart jump… seconds before I’m swept off my feet and over a broad shoulder.

“Garrett!” I squeal, holding the hot pepper by its stem and away from my face. “What are you doing here?”

Allie’s eyes are wide, and she grabs a bowl, running to hold it out for me to pass her the killer fruit.

“Surprise!” Logan says with a laugh. “I managed to get this idiot to fly home for the holiday.”

Garrett sits me on top of the metal table. “What else was I going to do? All my people are down here now.”

“I’m so glad you’re home.” Joy surges in my chest, and I’m smiling so hard my cheeks ache. Just as fast, I point at him. “Don’t touch anything! I’m making guacamole with Trinidad Scorpion pepper, and it won’t just melt your face off⁠—”

“Uncontrollable hiccups,” Craig says as he walks past in a blond wig and Santa hat.

“Craig, my man!” Garrett grabs him around the waist, lifting him off the ground in a hug.

“Put me down, Beast!”

“Uncle Grizzlaaay!” That little voice makes him laugh, and he drops Craig before taking a knee.

Kimmie Joy runs straight to him, and he throws her into the air. “How’s my little Peanut doing?”

“I’m a mouse!” she squeals, and he swings her around onto his back.

“A mouse?”

“Dylan has all the kids in The Nutcracker.” Jack enters the room, patting his brother on the back before shaking his hand. “She convinced Mrs. Laverne to be the lady with the big skirt, and all the kindergarteners are mice.”

“You put the principal in the show?” Garrett cocks a brow at me.

“She asked me to teach ballet.” I shrug. “It was the least I could do!”

“It’s going to be so cute!” Allie coos.

“Rehearsals have been hilarious, that’s for sure,” I say, “But everybody loves it when the little kids run around and shake their tails.”

I carefully put the pepper in a plastic bag and label it with a TS before tossing it into the freezer and disposing of my gloves. Then I step to the sink and rub coconut oil all over my fingers, hands, and nails before washing them with dish soap.

“Let’s get out there and do this,” I call, glancing at the clock.

“Best welcome home party ever.” Garrett laughs, grabbing a blond wig and Santa hat and wrapping an apron around his waist like a dress. “What’s our song, Cray?”

“You’ll see.”

They head out, and I hang back when Logan levels his eyes on me. He only has a slight limp when he walks to where I’m standing by the table. “Good surprise?”

“Second-best Christmas present ever.” I place my hands on his shoulders.

His chin lifts, and he frowns. “What’s the first?”

“Having you here with me.” I stretch higher to kiss his lips. “Seeing you smile like you’re happy and not pissed at the world.”

“I’m very happy to be here with you.”

He leans down to seal his lips to mine, and I part them, curling my tongue with his. A groan is in his throat, and he pulls back. “Do we have to stay for the Dare dish?”

Craig’s voice on the mic reaches us. “Dylan’s got a special surprise for you all this Christmas. Get out here, Danger!”

I look over my shoulder and back at him, giving him a little smile. “Sounds like a yes.”

Warmth is in his eyes as he looks down at me. “We can’t keep your fans waiting. Except that little Oliver Duck kid. I think he has his eye on my girl.”

“Oliver Duck.” I shake my head, laughing. “That kid is something else.”

Our fingers are entwined as we exit the kitchen, going into the full dining hall that’s decorated with colorful Christmas lights, balsam wreaths, and red cinnamon candles.

Everyone is dressed up in ugly Christmas sweaters, and I see Rachel sitting in a booth with Miss Gina. I wave at her, and she smiles and waves back, leaning down to whisper in Miss Gina’s ear.

Zane stands at the back wall, not too far from where she sits, doing his very best to act like he doesn’t notice her. He’s in a navy sweater and jeans. His square jaw is set, and his arms are crossed. Still, I catch his blue eyes drifting to where they’re sitting.

Kimmie is on the bar with Garrett and Craig, and the waitresses are wearing headbands with reindeer antlers and lights on them.

Allie reads off the warnings for Trinidad scorpion. “As always, water or beer will not put out the fire. We have vanilla ice cream and honey stations if you need them in the back.”

The lights change to red and green, and Craig hits the button. A driving baseline starts right away, and I laugh when I recognize the intro to “Disco Inferno.”

Logan has me around the waist, and we start to sway. Customers line up, doing funny disco moves as they make their way to the front to try out the fiery guacamole.

It’s a hilarious, Christmas dance party, and Logan leans down to my ear. “Will you get on the bar for me?”

The hunger in his tone sends a flush of heat from stomach to my core. My nipples tighten, and I turn to face him. I’d never danced sexy, until I started dating a football star hotter than every pepper on the Scoville scale.

Rocking my hips, I shimmy, pointing to him with a naughty grin as I make my way to the bar. Everyone’s dancing, and I’m about to hop up beside my big brother when the back door opens.

Two men enter the restaurant frowning, and all my sexy thoughts freeze in my chest.