The Flapper's Baby Scandal

three years ago, she’d been digging clams, and had wandered out too far. Before she’d realized what was happening, the tide had been rolling in. She’d panicked, having never experienced how quickly the water was rising and had climbed up on some rocks, but the waves had soon covered the rocks. Out of nowhere, he’d shown up and carried her to shore. Then he’d kissed her! More than once! Until she hadn’t been able to breathe, or think, or move, and then...then he’d walked away! Like nothing had happened.
A bandit. That was what he was, and she was not going to dance with him. Mad all over again, she turned to run away.
He spun her neatly back round again.
“Nice try, Lacy, but you’re dancing with me.”
“No, I’m not,” she hissed. “I was hoping to never see you again!”
“Then you need to find different company.”
“What?” That made no sense. None whatsoever.
The piano man struck the keys, and they were suddenly moving across the floor. Her and this...this kissing bandit!
His movements were smooth, flowed perfectly with the music, even as she held herself stiffly.
“No wonder you didn’t want to enter the dance-off,” he said. “You don’t know how to dance.”
“I do, too!”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do. I just don’t want to dance with you!”
“Too late. We’re couple number three and we are dancing,” he said, his hands going to her waist and lifting her up. “Until you get us disqualified.”
Another flash of anger rose up inside her. She couldn’t get them disqualified, that could cause a scene, and that went against another one of her rules.
“No wonder you couldn’t find a partner,” he said. “They all must have known you can’t dance.”
They were dancing the fox-trot, and she was excellent at the fox-trot. “Put me down.”
“Why, so you can prove you can’t dance?”
“No!” She glared at him. “So I can show you how to dance.”
He laughed. “I know how to dance.”
She was going to prove who knew how to dance. Her. “No, you don’t, you’re supposed to be bending at the knees.”
“Like this?” Grinning, he bent his knees until her heels barely tapped the floor, then straightened upright again.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, put me down!”
He lowered her to the floor but kept his hands on her waist. She kept hers on his shoulders and, determined to prove him wrong, took two steps back, slid one step to the side, bent her knees, and straightened. He’d matched each of her steps, nearly perfectly, but still, she said, “That’s how you do it.”
“Oh, so you mean like this.”
He led her through the steps so quickly, and so perfectly, she nearly forgot she didn’t want to dance with him.
Nearly.
“Somewhat,” she said.
“Let’s try this, then.”
Once again, his steps were quick, smooth, and in perfect time with the beat. He then released her waist, grasped her hand, twirled her around beneath their clasped hands, and pulled her back into his arms so swiftly, it almost made her dizzy.
“And?”
“And what?” she said, pretending not to know.
“How am I doing now?” He twirled her again. “Or do I need more instructions?”
She huffed out a breath. “You are doing fine.”
“Just fine?”
She was not going to compliment him on his dancing. Absolutely not. Even if he was one of the best partners she’d ever had. She didn’t need to concentrate on the steps at all; they were gliding around the floor as if they danced together every day.
While continuing to glide her through the steps, he asked, “How long have you been in Los Angeles?”
“My entire life,” she answered. “What are you doing here?”
“Working.”
“Do you live in Seattle?” She’d dreamed of going back to Seattle to look for him, just because he’d made her so angry by kissing her and then walking off, she’d wanted to... Oh, she wasn’t even sure what she’d wanted to do to him, but no one had ever made her so angry. Not even the way her father kept them locked up at home. Him, this kissing bandit had made her believe that maybe her father was right. That he had to choose husbands for them because most men couldn’t be trusted.
“No, I was only in Seattle for a short time three years ago. Working.” He spun them around at the edge of the floor and started back in the other direction. “What were you doing there three years ago?”
“Visiting family.” She wasn’t interested in learning more about him, but talking kept her mind busy on something other than how handsome he was. Especially when he smiled. That nearly took her breath away. “What type of work do you do?”
“This and that,” he said.
Her heart skipped a beat. Could he know her father? “Construction?”
“No. I’m not very good with a hammer and nail.”
Thank goodness. She’d always feared they might run into one of the men who worked on the crews building houses in Hollywoodland. She and her sisters were never allowed near the building sites until the homes were done and the crews all gone, but she still worried.
The music ended and she questioned escaping his hold and leaving the Rooster’s Nest altogether, but Patsy was dancing and Jane was helping the piano player, and the rule was they all left together.
He was looking at her, as if waiting for her to decide.
She lifted her chin and gave a small nod as the music started up again.
They were off, with him leading them around the dance floor all over again.
The bright overhead lights with their stained-glass lampshades made his blue eyes stand out even more. They truly were unique. Captivating.
She pulled her eyes off them because she certainly didn’t want to be captivated. Not by him or any other man.
He was tall, so tall she couldn’t see over his shoulders—very broad and firm shoulders. She eased backward, trying to put more space between their bodies, but his hold on her waist tightened, keeping her right where she was at, close to him. Very close.
She’d danced with many men since she and her sisters started sneaking out,