Read Online The Daddy Dance by Mindy Klasky - Free Book Online Page A

her arms were rigid, and her legs felt like boards.
    “Relax,” Rye said beside her. “You’re going to do fine.”
    “You say that now,” she muttered. “But what are you going to say when I crash your truck?”
    “I know that’s not going to happen.”
    She wished that she had his confidence. She stared at the dashboard, as if she were going to control the vehicle solely through the power of her mind.
    “Relax,” he said again. “Seriously. Take a deep breath. And exhale…”
    Well, that was one thing she could do. She’d always been able to control her body, to make it do her bidding. She breathed into the bottom of her lungs, holding the air for a full count of five, before letting it go. Alas, the tension failed to flow away.
    Rye reached over and touched her right leg. Already on edge, Kat twitched as if he’d used a live electric wire. “Easy,” he said, flattening his palm against her black trousers. She could feel the heat of his palm, the weight of each finger. Nervous as she was, she found his touch soothing. Relaxing. Compelling.
    Leaving his hand in place, Rye said, “The pedal on the right is gas. The one on the left is the brake. You’ll shift your foot between them. You want to be gentle—I told my brothers to pretend that there were eggs beneath the pedals.”
    He lifted his hand, and her leg was suddenly chilled. She wanted to protest, wanted him to touch her again, but she knew that she was being ridiculous. Any fool could see that she was just trying to delay the inevitable driving lesson.
    “Put your foot on the brake,” he said. “Go ahead. You can’t hurt anything. I promise.”
    I promise . He was so sure of himself. He had so much faith in her. She wanted to tell him that he was wrong, that he was mistaken, that she didn’t know the rules for driving a car. She didn’t have a system. Tenuously, though, she complied with the instruction. He nodded, then said, “Good. Now, take this.”
    She watched him select a key, a long silver one with jagged teeth on either side. He dangled it in front of her until she collected it, willing her hand to stop shaking, to stop jangling all the other keys together. He nodded toward the ignition, and she inserted the key, completing the action after only two false starts.
    “See?” he said. “I told you this was easy.”
    “Piece of cake,” she muttered, sounding like a prisoner on the way to her own execution.
    Rye chuckled and said, “Go ahead. Turn it. Start the truck.”
    “I—I don’t know how.”
    “Exactly the same way you open the lock on a door. You do that all the time, up in New York, don’t you? It’s the exact same motion.”
    Tightening her elbow against her side to still her trembling, she bit on her lower lip. Millions of people drove every single day. People younger than she was. People without her discipline. She was just being stupid—like the time that she’d been afraid to try the fish dives in Sleeping Beauty.
    She turned the key.
    The truck purred to life, shuddering slightly as the engine kicked in. Her hand flew off the key, but Rye only laughed, catching her fingers before she could plant them in her lap. He guided them to the gearshift, covering her hand with his own. His palm felt hot against her flesh, like sunshine pooling on black velvet. She thought about pulling her hand away, about blowing on her fingers so that they weren’t quite icicles, but she was afraid to call even more attention to herself.
    “The truck is in Park. You’re going to shift it into Drive.” His fingers tightened around hers, almost imperceptibly. The motion made her glance at his face. His black eyes were steady on hers, patient, waiting. “You can do this, Kat,” he said, and the words vibrated through her. She didn’t know if her sudden breathlessness was because of his touch, or because she was one step closer to driving the truck.
    She shifted the gear.
    “There you go.” He crooned to her as if she were a