Tracy Madison - From Good Guy To Groom

Around her family, yes, but mostly around him. He wanted her to eventually learn that she could trust him as her physical therapist and also, hopefully, as her friend. He already knew he liked this woman. Already knew he wanted to learn more about her. And, yeah, he absolutely wanted to see that beautiful smile of hers stretch across her equally beautiful face.

At the moment, they were sitting side by side in lawn chairs under the leafy canopy of a massive tree. Some of the Fosters were playing a game of horseshoes while others were engaged with the kids, and Paul and Margaret were bustling about, starting the meal preparation in earnest. He might as well take his first swing now, see if he could manage a grand slam.

“So,” he said, in the most casual voice he could muster, “I have a proposition. Or maybe you’d call it a dare. Either one works, I guess. But if you agree without knowing all of the details, and then follow through, I’ll take you out for a night of dancing.”

“I don’t think you can call that a proposition or a dare if the details of what you want me to do aren’t made clear from the beginning.” Curiosity and caution lit her gaze, her tone. “Unless you want to play a game of Truth or Dare, but that isn’t what you said.”

Interesting idea. But...nah. “No, I’m not playing a game. Just want you to step out of your shell a little. Nothing wrong with that, and don’t worry, I wouldn’t ask you to do anything that I thought you’d find impossible or alarming.” He winked. “I’m not going to ask you to streak naked across the backyard or break into song at the top of your lungs. Promise.”

Had the corners of her lips wiggled? Maybe. If so, too small a wiggle to say for sure. “That’s good, because I wouldn’t do either. I might be willing to play along if the reward was something I wanted. But dancing? No. I don’t dance. Not anymore. Or not again, anyway.”

“Why not? You’re certainly capable. I mean, I wouldn’t suggest anything too strenuous yet, but so long as you put most of your weight on your left leg, you’d be fine.”

“I’d rather not test that supposition,” she said. “Therefore, I must decline your offer.”

“You know,” he said, angling his body toward hers, “I should’ve explained more. The point of taking you dancing isn’t so you can dance. It’s so you can see me make a fool out of myself. Because if there is one thing I cannot do, it’s dance.” He winced. “In fact, my sister says I look like a drunken elephant on ice. And that’s one of the kinder descriptions I’ve heard.”

The tiniest fraction of amusement glittered in her eyes. “Is that so? A drunken elephant on ice, huh? Kind of hard to believe, as I’ve never seen anyone dance that badly.”

“Aha! But you can. The sight of such a lack of grace is totally within your power. All you have to do is say, ‘Okay, Ryan, I agree. What is it you want me to do?’ and then actually follow through on what I ask of you. What do you think?”

“No streaking or singing involved, right?”

He crossed his heart. “That’s correct.”

Another twitch of her lips, but not a complete smile. Not yet. “Okay, sure. Why not? But remember, I haven’t given up the right to decline. Whether I do or don’t is totally my choice once I hear what you have in mind. Just so we’re absolutely clear on that front.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way. This, along with everything else that occurs between us, is one hundred percent in your control. You call the shots, Andi.”

She straightened her shoulders, tossed her mane of auburn hair behind one shoulder and jutted her chin. “I’m ready. What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to walk up to any one person here...except for me...and say ‘Bugaboo!’ three times in a row. Really fast. And in a high-pitched voice. That’s it. Easy peasy.”

One blink, then another, followed by a third. “Are you insane? Or do you just want my family to think I’m insane? Or—”

“A single word, three times in a row. That’s all it is, and you get to choose who you say it to. Come on, Andi, have a little fun. I know you can. Besides which, you really don’t want to miss the opportunity of getting me on the dance floor.”

“Anyone I want, huh?” She scraped her bottom lip with her teeth as she glanced around the yard. He saw when the obvious answer clicked into place, just as he knew it would. “You have a deal,” she said as she stood. “I hope your dancing shoes are polished and ready to go.”

“Oh, they are. Go on, do your thing.”

She took her time walking across the grassy yard, her cane slowing her movements more than necessary. Truthfully, he doubted she really needed the cane for short walks, but he didn’t think she was prepared to give up that security. Soon, though, he’d bring up the possibility.

As he’d guessed, she headed straight for the two toddlers who were presently playing with their mother on a spread-out blanket. Carefully, Andi lowered herself to the ground and held out her arms to Charlotte, who toddled right over. He couldn’t hear her from where he sat, so he just watched as she tickled the little girl. Then she leaned in close, assumingly saying “bugaboo” three times, in quick succession and in a high-pitched voice, before tickling her again. Charlotte burst out laughing and then...oh, yes, Andi did, as well.

She turned toward him, her smile spread across her face, and he’d bet money that if he was closer, he’d see that her eyes were filled with joy. She laughed again, the sound easily carrying to his ears, and he heard her happiness, her few seconds of freedom from whatever thoughts and fears swirled in her brain. He was relieved for her. Pleased, too, that he’d found a way to bring her to this moment.

What really got him, though, was how beautiful this woman was. And how very much he wanted to get to know her. Really know her. That, he had no doubt, would be a much steeper hill to climb than simply eliciting a laugh. But he’d figure it out. He’d figure her out, and as he did, he’d let her get to know him. Let her figure him out.

After all, that was only fair.

Chapter Three

Her heart in her mouth, sweat all but pouring down the back of her neck, Andi woke with a gasp, sat straight up in bed and waited for the worst of the tremors shaking her body to dissipate. Another nightmare. Another return to Juliana Memorial Hospital, seeing Hugh get shot again, her dream forcing her to view the scene over and over and over.

The sound of the gun, the potent smell of desperation and fear, the cries and screams of shock and panic and, yes, the look on Hugh’s face as he went down, the magnifying pain when two bullets tore into her leg, and then, when she came around, the belief that her dear friend and mentor was gone and her resulting decision to run. Hide. Save herself. Call for help.

As fresh in her brain as if the incident had occurred within the past five minutes and not six full months ago. When would she move past this? Why hadn’t she yet? It frustrated her, this seeming inability to push through to the other side and leave the past where it belonged. What had happened was awful and terrifying, but it was over. Over. She’d survived.

But, damn it, part of her heart, her soul, remained stuck. And that needed to change.

Stifling a yawn, Andi carefully swung her legs to the edge of the bed and glanced at the clock, knowing she wouldn’t be able to fall back to sleep anytime soon. Three in the morning. Two more hours and she would’ve actually made the five-hour mark. The first night she did that, she might just throw herself a party to celebrate.

She decided to brew a cup of tea and settle herself in the living room, see if she could find something distracting to watch on the television. Preferably a comedy. Light and silly enough to drag her mind from the darkness of her nightmare. A rerun of Seinfeld or Friends would be perfect, as one or the other would take her back to worlds and people she knew well.