A burst of raucous music reached Lee's ears. Chuck Berry? A librarian and three maiden aunties listened to rock 'n roll? Lee followed the sound and drew up short when he found her.

Laughing, oblivious to her audience, the mousy Miss Parks flipped herself away from a sewing mannequin in a surprisingly good imitation of a jitterbug. As he watched, she bent at the waist, tossed her hair--her long, gloriously wavy and loose hair!--in a circle. The lamp behind her threw a burnished halo through the blur of hair as it whispered to a frothy halt all over her shoulders. She giggled and swung herself around the mannequin with a swoosh of her plaid skirt. Her eyes met his; her mouth formed an appalled 'O' and her joyous step out of character came to a dead stop. The mannequin did a few last happy circles before spinning helplessly onto its side.

Lee couldn't help it. He smiled at her. Without his permission, his hand reached toward her and his lips moved. "Need a real live partner, Bethany?"

Eyes wide, she clutched her skirt in bunches.

Hell. Good girls don't dance with bad boys. Lee lowered his hand just as Bethany breathed out, "Yes, please."

She looked as though she wanted to run. Lee almost turned and ran, himself, but he'd offered; she'd accepted. Now he had to... no. He wanted to.