She pressed the trunk release on the key fob and took his jacket. Draped it over her arm as a hint of very masculine—and very potent—aftershave swirled around her.
Whew.
“Um, Isabel, why don’t we move back?” She took the girl’s hand. “We’ll be in your dad’s way if we stand too close.”
Maybe putting more distance between them would help her regain her equilibrium, even if she couldn’t dodge the appealing scent emanating from the jacket.
A distraction was also in order.
“Where’s your grandfather today?” She called up a bright smile and focused on Isabel.
“He’s going to the later service. Dad said he stayed up too late last night watching a show on The History Channel.”
“Do you have a favorite TV show?”
Isabel rattled off a couple of unfamiliar names, but spurred by a few questions, the girl was happy to tell her all about them.
It was hard to concentrate on the conversation, though, with Aaron only a few feet away.
And it got much harder when his dress shirt snugged across his broad shoulders and the crisp cotton stretched over impressive biceps as he wrestled the tire off.
Isabel’s father appeared to be in as good or better shape than any of the male dancers she’d been paired with, who lifted her with apparent ease during a demanding pas de deux.
“...do you like to watch?”
The girl’s words registered at a peripheral level, and she tuned back in to the conversation. While she’d missed most of the question, it was simple to fill in the blanks.
“I don’t have a favorite program. Back in New York, I’m busy practicing during the day and performing at night.”
“That must be exciting.”
“Being on stage is exciting, but most of the time being a dancer isn’t very glamorous. Ballet is hard work.”
“But you like it, don’t you?”
“Yes. I’ve loved ballet since I was a little girl.”
Isabel’s demeanor took on a wistful air. “I wish I could take lessons.”
“Have you ever asked your dad about that? I have a feeling he’d be happy to check into it for you.”
“Dad and Gramp talked about lessons once. But there isn’t a ballet studio in Hope Harbor. I’d have to go to Bandon or Coos Bay.”
“Those aren’t too far away.”
“I guess not.” She clasped her hands behind her. “Do you ever teach classes, Miss Devyn?”
“Sometimes I teach workshops in New York for advanced students, but not the kind of classes you’re talking about. I’m sure there are studios not far from here that have classes for younger dancers, though. Your dad could ask—”
“All finished.”
As Aaron spoke, she turned toward him. “That didn’t take long.”
“I’ve had a fair amount of practice.” One side of his mouth quirked up, and an endearing crinkle of fine lines fanned out from his eyes.
Her heart missed a beat. “I, uh, can’t believe you managed to change the tire without getting your clothes dirty. I’d be covered with grease if I’d tried to tackle this.”
“You learn a few tricks along the way.” He held out his hand for his jacket.
