Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
It was becoming a problem.
This morning, the tilers weren’t scheduled to begin until eleven, which worked in his favor. Liam had a date with eight very sassy ladies, and he’d have hated to cancel on them.
“All right, my lovelies,” he said, clapping his hands. “Should we run it again?”
“Let’s do it,” Dot, the spunkiest of the crowd, rushed to the front of the studio.
After an hour of class with her, Liam learned she loved to be front and center and soaked up attention like a dry sponge.
A few of the others rolled their eyes. “He’s gay, dear,” Barbara said with a tut. “He wouldn’t have wanted you even thirty years ago.”
“Oh, stuff it, Barb. You know this isn’t about me.” Dot shifted her gaze to Liam. “I do, however, have a very lovely nephew who recently broke up with his boyfriend. Just saying.” She batted her seventy-eight-year-old eyelashes. “The only problem is he lives in Chicago, but what’s a little distance between soulmates?”
Liam’s face heated. “That’s very sweet,” he said, patting Dot’s slender shoulder. “But I’m just going to focus on my business for a while.”
And maybe, God willing, a very attractive country boy who brought his favorite coffee each day. Not that Tate gave him any indication they’d be doing more than casting sidelong glances at each other for the foreseeable future.
Liam was still clinging to the next time they’d promised each other.
It would happen.
Desperation, thy name is Liam.
“Good idea, sweetie,” Mary, the youngest of the group at sixty-six, said. “Men are nothing but trouble. Trust me, I know.”
“Yeah, you did marry five of them, after all,” Dot said with a snort.
“Five?” Liam mouthed to Mary, who shrugged. “What can I say? I liked dick, and I wasn’t one to give the milk away for free.”
Unfortunately, he took a sip of his water at the exact moment those words came flying out of Mary’s mouth. The liquid slipped right down his trachea. He choked, spewing water all over the floor as his lungs fought to keep from drowning.
“Careful, dear.” Dot whacked him on the back. “Take a breath.”
“Thank you,” he rasped when he could breathe again.
Who knew sweet Mary, with her snowy white hair and orthopedic shoes, had it in her?
Five of them, apparently.
“Okay…” He needed to get this train back on track before he completely lost control. People thought teaching kids was tough, it was nothing compared to a group of mischievous seniors. “Let’s work through the dance a few more times before we run out of time. The senior center’s talent show is in a few weeks, and I’d hate myself if I sent you ladies out there unprepared.”
“It’s so nice of you to do this for us before you officially open, dear.”
“It’s my pleasure, Mrs. Snow. Okay, everyone in their place?” The group of senior ladies all nodded. “And five… six… seven… eight…” He hit the music, and the studio filled with the song they’d requested—Jailhouse Rock. As Elvis belted out the lyrics, the ladies began to dance. It was a bit of a disaster, but they had fun, laughed, and teased each other, so he offered a few corrections. After running it several times, they had it down, and Liam felt comfortable calling it a day.
Dot had other ideas. She’d begged him to play the rest of Elvis’s album. Once the other ladies joined in the pleading, he had no choice but to give them what they wanted. Who could resist a bunch of sweet grandmas itching for a dance party?
By the end of the second song, he was dancing with them, spinning, dipping ladies left and right, and laughing his head off. His friends in New York wouldn’t recognize him. Who would believe that in the span of a few weeks, he’d gone from being a lead performer in the New York City Ballet to choreographing a dance for the local senior center’s talent show?
But this type of dance fed his soul—fun, no pressure, and pure joy. It was the kind of dance professionals often forgot about in their pursuit of perfection. So, he embraced it, crooning along with Elvis and getting his fifties groove on.
He was mid Rock Around the Clock with The King when he spun, thrust his hips, and came to a dead stop. Tate stood propped against the door with his arms folded and a smirk on his handsome face.
Liam rushed to his phone on the floor near the mirror and killed the music.
“Hey!” Mary called out when the room fell silent. “Oh, who do we have here?”
“Leave him alone, Mar. He doesn’t want to be your number six,” Dot said with a snicker.
“Oh, Tate, hello dear,” Mrs. Snow said with a wave for the bad boy lurking at the door.
“Hey, Miz Snow.” He waved before folding his arms again. “So, what are you crazy kids getting up to in here?”