Dance With Me

By Debi Ennis Binder

My name is Skye. Sydney is my twin, a lovely, svelte, talented singer and dancer. We're supposed to be identical, but somehow, I'm lumpy, large, and clumsy. Sydney's six brawny and gorgeous male backup singers/dancers treat me like their little sister, but I've loved one of them since I was seventeen, when I first met Sheacht, their group. Today, I'm the act's lawyer—a twenty-four-year-old virgin who can't admit my feelings to the man who raises such impossible emotions in me.

When we get together for a contract update, I promise myself I'll tell him the truth. But as soon as I see him, I know I'll never have the courage. I'm afraid he'll give me a brotherly hug, or worse, he'll try to hide his disgust, and my shame will force me to once again slink away. The day after I arrive, something crazy happens. In a clandestine and unexpectedly erotic way, I discover one of the men has been hiding deep feelings for me as long as he's known me. And I don't know which man he is; he's keeping his identity a secret because of my twin's crazy jealousy over her partners. I can't believe him…but he's so persuasive, so insistent that I'm beautiful, that I can't help but fall into his arms, caught up in his skillful lovemaking. As my relationship with the mystery man blossoms, I realize I'm falling in love with him despite my internal conflict--am I betraying the one I've loved for so long? Given my luck, they won't be the same man. When circumstances force my enigmatic lover to reveal himself to me, our relationship flourishes. But my happiness is rocked when it becomes apparent that someone in the house is deliberately causing discord among us, leading to arguments and even fights. Is someone trying to break my lover and me up, or do they want to see the end of Sheacht? It's difficult to know who to trust, but especially my twin, who has inexplicably become cruel and vicious to me. How can someone among my family and dear friends be an enemy, one who seems to have no motive but is determined to tear down more than one future? If I can't figure out who, in a once-happy group of people, is determined to tear apart relationships, both business and personal, I might never find the happiness I've sought for seven years.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Debi Ennis Binder
• Release date: May 3, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224486014

Debi Ennis Binder

Debi’s books lead into magical worlds and glorious realms, strong, courageous women and men, grumpy griffins, and benevolent dragons, fighting the evil that threatens their worlds. Snarky cats are talkative; however, the sly foxes and crabby imps might switch sides before you know it. Debi’s tales draw you into battles between good and evil, so choose your side carefully. But be warned—things in magical worlds are rarely what they seem to be.

Book preview

Chapter One

The Uber driver kept glancing at me in the rear-view mirror, sometimes for longer than felt safe—he wasn’t creeping along the curvy mountain roads like I did—and I’d just about had enough. I suspected he was trying to figure out why I looked so familiar. I was accustomed to those types of looks and could have the conversation in my head. No, I’m not who you think I am. Not unless I’ve gained twenty pounds in the last couple of months.

The next glance had his forehead furrowed.

Yeah, there’s a lot of body beneath this 'gorgeous' face, right? Wow, that was a bitter one. The one you’re thinking of is lithe and dynamic and known for gyrating across the stage, singing, and dancing with six stunning hot-bodied males.

Twins, I said aloud.

Huh?

You keep looking at me. I’m the twin of who you think I am. I’m the chunky one. The one who runs her twin’s empire.

The back of his neck and his ears turned red. I’m sorry, he muttered. I was just thinking you’re pretty.

I snorted. Yeah, sure. I’ve already added your tip to the total. You can let me off here.

I SIGHED AS HE DROVE off in a flurry of gravel. That was a bitchy thing to say to the poor guy, I muttered. I sounded more like Sydney than me.

I felt bad. I rarely made remarks like that, and even if I hadn't wanted the driver to follow the curve ahead, I shouldn’t have said anything about his tip. His carrying me to the end of the road would have revealed my mother's sprawling house, and though this wasn’t my primary residence any longer, I was still weird about keeping it private for my family.

What’s done is done. I sighed more deeply. I’ll be extra nice next time, I promised the forest.

My mood lifted as I looked around. During the drive here, I’d anticipated walking through a canopy of enormous trees that were losing their last leaves. I loved breathing in the scents and listening to the birds and squirrels squawking at each other. I looked around as I walked. One of my sister’s partners was often out here enjoying nature. I had an overpoweringly secret reason for wanting to catch sight of him.

When I reached the driveway, I took a deep breath and adjusted my long, baggy sweater before I moved my messenger bag to my shoulder. I jostled my laptop, reminding me this was more than a simple vacation from the city for me. I’d written a new contract for the seven members of Sheacht. The group was all the rage, but I was their dull lawyer. I intended to change things up this time and make things right for the six men who were Sydney’s backup singers and dancers.

Not that I would let my sister know that.

Although the Grammy awards were four months behind her, Sydney was still high on sweeping the pop and dance category. I was more of a hard rocker, but I’d been there, cheering them on. Later I’d heard her—as she intended—whining about how I’d embarrassed her by squeezing my big ass and boobs into a dress meant for a smaller woman. It wasn’t. A designer had made the lovely lavender dress to fit me, and her magic made me look taller than five-four. Too bad she couldn’t have made me look a bit smaller in the curvy areas. I could live with my body most of the time, but not when I had to set myself up for comparison by standing next to my preening twin.

Sydney had to have known I’d received a fair share of compliments from males and females at the after-party. Still, she’d made sure several people heard her comment, likely hoping it would get repeated in gossip columns. I never bothered to find out; I didn’t care. But being honest with myself, I knew she’d gotten to me, as two days later, I had my thick, wavy, reddish-blonde hair dyed bright pink—all three feet of it.

I rounded the corner and stopped short. My mouth fell open.

Son of a— I broke off my angry growl. Dammit, Sydney,

The money spent on cars in the roundabout could have funded a developing nation for years. Sydney and the guys must have received some substantial cash I didn’t know about, but I didn’t think any of them were interested in exotic cars. Four were more motorcycle guys, and the other two liked those silly, enormous, loud trucks with tires that looked like bouncy houses.

Sudden anxiety washed through me.

It would be like my sneaky twin to let some tattletale ‘journalist’ know about this. I glanced around as I climbed the stairs to the front door. I didn’t see any photographers, but that didn’t mean—

The door flew open before I could touch it, and two big, burly men—make those young gods—flew past me. The one with long black hair and bright blue eyes—Frankie— stopped and gave me his panties-wetting grin. I sighed sadly. I’d never been affected by that beautiful smile.

Hi, Skye, he called. Love your hair!

Hi, Skye, echoed the other, the newest member, Gerry. His hair was identical to Frankie’s, though his eyes were golden brown. One of our sponsors gifted us these after the Grammys because she mentioned their name during an interview. His polished grin bounced off me. Huh. I must prefer blonds because my panties aren’t even damp.

I glanced at the cars and shook my head, unable to believe a car company would hand over these beauties for a plug. Maybe they were loaners. That thought seemed more logical, and it made me breathe a little easier.

As I went into the house, another possibility occurred to me. Was there trouble between Sydney and her crew? I hoped she didn't think she was buying them off; the six independent males rarely cooperated. If she’d screwed something up, they wanted her to fix it. Sydney never had truly appreciated the talented men she worked with. For me, they were perfect big brothers...except for Brann, the recipient of my undying adoration since I was seventeen.

I decided to reject all my ideas until I knew more. But Sydney trying to bribe them wouldn’t fade. It was just like her—give them something they don’t want because she doesn’t know them as well as she should.

No, no, I pushed back. Where would she get the money? I scowled, unable to repress one annoying thought—Sydney, whining, wanting me to figure out how to write off a fortune in cars.

I glanced back at Frankie and Gerry, thinking of the day I met Sydney’s new partners. I smiled; I’d seen Brann and forgot the others. They had taken jobs in the nearby city, living here for almost a year while perfecting the act the troupe planned to use for the slot they’d won on TV—a national talent show. They hoped to take the world by storm. I knew they would. They were so perfect.

Brann was one of the original four, Sydney having driven the others off, the last one only two years earlier. Because they were a ‘matched set,’ they were difficult to replace. Six-three or close, three with long, black hair, and three with long, blond hair. It was kind of absurd, but they were delectable and very popular.

I thought about the troupe as I walked into the living room. Though it peeved me, I still suspected Sydney had given them some sort of ‘fuck me’ test to see if they’d do it and then be there if she wanted them.

Our older sister, Steffi, their principal choreographer and costume designer, insisted that wasn’t true. That meant it must be. When it came to Sydney, I was sure Steffi would lie through her teeth. Steffi was gay and lived here with her partner, a sweet woman named Olivia, who wrote private school textbooks, of all things. I liked her a lot, everyone did. The two women were almost identical in shape and size, slightly taller than me and curvy. We wore the same size, but everything that looked perfect on them made me look shorter and fatter.

Such was life in the Harrington household—a soap opera on steroids.

I’d no sooner set my bag and laptop down when someone swept me into his arms and swung me around.

Skye is here; time to party! I tried to stifle a gasp as Brann’s deep voice gushed through me. He grinned down at me, dimples in full force. My body quivered, and my pussy clenched.

And there went the panties. Soaked.

Whenever I saw him, I was desperate not to let him see how he affected me. He was utterly gorgeous, with his long, golden hair and full lips—the bottom being slightly fuller than the top—that made me want to kiss him so bad it hurt. His classic, carved jaw, high cheekbones, and cleft chin made him drool-worthy. But it was his eyes that devastated me. Large and soft-green, with long, thick dark eyelashes to kill for, they turned down at the outer edges and always looked like he’d just awakened...or was thinking about sex.

I swallowed, lost in the strong arms that held me. They were all built, throwing Sydney around like she was nothing, but I swore Brann was the largest.

In my sound opinion, Brann Trent was the most beautiful of the six, and not because of my one-sided feelings for him. He was the friendliest to me, and he rarely tolerated Sydney’s shit when she started in on me. His laughing eyes swept my face.

Did you miss us? he demanded, and everything in my pussy turned upside down again. Your hair is adorable.

Of course I did, I said with a laugh. Especially you. I knew my face was red, which did not harmonize well with my pink hair.

He raised me closer to his face, his smile making me shiver and burn inside. Was he going to kiss me? Someone stopped behind me and kissed the top of my head.

Hey, Punkin, Mark quipped in his slight, ever-charming Southern accent. Hair’s too cute. We missed you. He frowned. You’re not here to work, are you? I thought this was supposed to be a mini-vacation.

"Since when have I invited her on our vacation?" came an icy voice. Sydney. Brann, put that cow down before you break something. You fucking know we start rehearsal for the new album in two weeks and need to work on our new material. You don’t need a fucking hernia. She narrowed her eyes at me. What the hell have you done to your hair? Oh. My. God. You look like a—

Leave her alone, interrupted another deep voice—blond-haired Freddie, my other stalwart defender. Get something to eat. You get so fucking cranky when you’re hungry.

Brann set me on my feet, and Freddie engulfed me in his hard arms. God, they all felt so wonderful, and I wanted to giggle. I didn’t know how to describe manly, but I could smell it. As I smiled and freed myself, I glimpsed red-faced Sydney standing in the kitchen doorway, fuming.

Not all of us can eat when and whatever we want. Sydney glared at me.

Dammit, Syd, stop it, Brann began, but my mom bustled in.

Skye, at last, you’re here! Her cheerful voice always meant home, but I had to pause. Didn’t she sense the undercurrents between her daughters? I’d barely gotten in the door before Sydney started on me. Mom hugged me, looked at my hair, made a funny sound, and then looked around. Where are the others? I’m about to serve lunch.

They’re outside, I said. I’ll get them.

No, you won’t, Sydney snapped. You can’t respect boundaries to save you. She stomped past me, muttering under her breath about my ridiculous hair.

Mom looked puzzled. I shrugged and turned for my bags, but they were gone. I looked around and saw them disappearing up the stairs with Brann.

That was sweet, although I could stand taking the stairs a few times myself. I heard him bellow Matt’s name and realized he’d gone to get his friend and had grabbed my stuff as he passed it.

Oh well, it was still nice of him.

I suspected none of the guys knew why I’d joined them here. I wondered if Mom or Steffi had any idea. Steffi had to sign, but Mom usually knew what was happening through Sydney. If this had been a standard contract renewal, I’d have done it by express mail to avoid interrupting their rehearsal time. But they were here, and well...so was Brann.

Steffi and Olivia are on their way from the city, Mom said. I listened but also watched the door Sydney had vanished through. Why was she so angry?

My twin stalked back into the house, slamming the door behind her. After a moment, the door opened, and Frankie and Gerry hurried in, looking like naughty kids.

A sudden feeling swept through me, but whether happy or uneasy, I couldn’t tell. I was home again, and my family would soon be. Everyone loved me except for one troublemaker who looked too much like me. But what kind of visit would this be? At times like this, I wished Dad hadn’t left. He had also defended me from Sydney and what had once been innocuous teasing. It no longer was.

OUR LATE LUNCH WAS fantastic—at least, it started that way. The six men had rib-eye steaks and mashed potatoes with their salads, while the women had bigger salads with chunks of baked chicken, pecans, dried cranberries, and crispy French-fried onions.

I saw Sydney smirking at me, and I sighed. She’d been watching me, and I wondered if her first comment would be about my size or that of my lunch.

As always, Mom had done right by me. I didn’t expect my twin to remember how much I loved a substantial crunchy salad with plenty of protein and other tasty additions. Mom returned my big smile. I don’t know how I carried extra weight when I could live on salads.

I see you got your favorite overboard salad, Sydney said in a saccharine tone. She put a couple of drops of light vinaigrette dressing on hers—which had only meat and vegetables—as she shoved the ranch at me. I plucked the vinaigrette from her fingers. It was raspberry—my favorite.

I used more than a few drops. Sydney watched me like a hawk; when I finished, she gasped. How can you taste anything but dressing? she demanded, her tone switching to ‘drama queen.’

The dressing is the best part, said Matt, taking the bottle from me. Raspberry? Thanks, Mom.

You’re welcome, sweetie. Now, listen, boys, Mom began in her best lecturing voice. This is important. According to an online article, you men can lose up to eight pounds a show with all the moving and sweating you do. And also, all that weightlifting you insist on doing. You need to drink lots of water and be careful.

They have to, I murmured. "No one wants the star ending up face-first on the stage."

There was silence. As I reached for my water glass, I glanced at Sydney. She ignored me, but her hand trembled as she lifted her fork.

Score one for me. Only Sydney considered herself the star, but everyone knew it.

I took a round of warm nan, broke it into pieces, and dug in.

Skye. Mom went off on another subject. The last time you were here, I overheard you telling Steffi something that happened before you graduated. The girls at your dorm found out who you are and tried to bribe you to take not-so-nice pictures of the guys. You left before I got a chance to ask you about it.

I choked on the bread and took a quick drink of water. Damn, Mom, not in front of everyone.

It’s true, I admitted. First, I tried to tell them they were mistaken. But that didn’t work. I tried ignoring them and talking some sense into them, but in the end, I reminded them about harassment laws, and it stopped.

I’m surprised you didn’t do it, Sydney snapped tartly. It might have made you popular...for a while.

My fork slipped from my fingers as I stared at my sister. You seriously think I would do such a despicable thing? Sydney froze and stared at me. The venom in my voice seemed to surprise her almost as much as it did me. These guys are like my brothers. I don’t see them as sex objects like others do, Sydney. You make me sick sometimes.

Her laugh was brittle. I seemed to have hit a nerve. Some puppy love there?

I sat back and threw my napkin beside my bowl. I can’t take your crap right now. I have too much work to catch up on.

I rose and left the table despite Mom’s protests.

Sydney,