Authors: Alicia Street,Roy Street
“Maybe we’ll go tonight.”
“What about now? Sean saw it already.”
“Sure you want to waste a beautiful sunny day like this inside a dark movie theater?”
“Sean said it was awesome.”
“Look, I’ll check out what’s showing around Southampton this evening. In the meantime we’ll spend today on the boat. Fish a little. Stop at the yacht club to eat. And tomorrow we’ll go to that horse farm where—”
“Tomorrow?” Josh sat forward. “You have to bring me back to North Cove tomorrow. For our show at the community bazaar.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The Fourth of July bazaar. Mom said she told you about it.”
“She did?”
Josh shook his head. “You’ve got too much going on, Dad. Better slow down or you’ll end up with a bad stomach like Grandpa.”
“Hey, I’m the father here, remember?” He gave Josh a gentle punch on the shoulder. “So what’s this about?”
“Miss Casey picked me to dance in the piece she choreographed.”
Drew’s voice rose. “You’re gonna dance in public?”
“Chill, Dad. Nobody’ll see me in tights. I’ll be wearing sneakers, baggy jeans and an oversized tee. We’re dancing to “Hey Ya!” by OutKast. Too cool.”
“OutKast? That’s hip-hop. Miss Casey does hip-hop?”
“Yeah. And she’s super good at it.”
“No kidding.” As it was, Drew had been bothered by her sleek curves and full mouth. But the idea of Miss Prim Ballerina getting down and dirty on the dance floor sent his X-rated imagination into overdrive.
“You won’t make me miss it, Dad, will you? The other kids are counting on me. And I don’t want to let Miss Casey down.”
Drew could picture that obstinate woman gloating if he allowed Josh to dance with her group tomorrow. But he could tell forbidding it would only put his already strained relationship with his son on shaky ground. And he had to admit the idea of another round of tangling with the dance teacher did have its appeal. “You like Miss Casey, huh?”
“She’s great. Lots of fun. And really pretty, don’t you think?”
“I guess.” Who was he kidding? The little ballet teacher was downright stunning. Chestnut hair the same color as her big doe eyes. Taut, trim body. Soft and full in the just right places. When he got close to her she smelled like baby powder. And he liked how her cheeks got all pink and her juicy mouth parted as if she might—
“So can I, Dad? Come on, gangstas do hip-hop. Badass dudes.”
“Watch the language, Josh.”
“I get to do a flip and some B-boy moves.”
“Well…okay. As long as it’s none of that girly up on your toes stuff.”
***
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