Page 2 of One Pucking Surprise
Whoever called her over must have said something to her.
Before I can blink, she signals for another. The second shot disappears just as quickly, and I catch the tiniest scrunch of her nose as the burn hits her.
She’s quick to collect herself, her polished exterior snapping back into place like it never faltered. But for that moment, I saw something—something unguarded, almost defiant.
I watch as she sets the empty glass down and spins on her heel, her sharp gaze scanning the room like nothing happened.
Interesting.
A few hours and several drinks later, the band switches to a slower song. Couples sway under dimmed lights, the party softening as the night wears on. I’m on my third—or maybe fourth?—drink,the kind of buzz that makes everything feel a little warmer.
And then I see her again.
She’s dancing with Jasper, Wyatt, and Chloe’s son. He’s grinning from ear to ear, his small hands clutching hers as she twirls him in a careful circle. They’re laughing, his tiny steps tripping over hers, but she doesn’t care. She steadies him; her smile lighting up her face in a way that stops me cold.
For a moment, I just watch. She’s unguarded, focused on Jasper, her laugh soft and free. It’s a side of her I didn’t think existed—and I can’t look away.
“Hey Jasper. Mind if I cut in?” I ask as I approach, flashing him a grin.
Jasper looks up at Lainey, his face lighting up. “Okay!” he says before darting toward Wyatt and Chloe.
Lainey plants her hands on her hips, narrowing her eyes at me. “Seriously? You’re taking me from an eight-year-old?”
“Come on, it’s tradition. The best man has to dance with the maid of honor.”
“You just interrupted my dance with the ring bearer.”
“He’ll forgive me,” I say with a grin. “Besides, I’m pretty sure he’s more excited to dance with his parents now.”
She shakes her head, exasperation flickering in her eyes. “I didn’t think dancing was in your playbook, Mr. Best Man.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Miss Maid of Honor.” I hold my hand out, challenging her with a smirk.
She huffs a laugh, clearly debating whether to let me win this one. Finally, with a reluctant sigh, she slips her hand into mine. “Fine. One dance.”
At first, she’s stiff, her movements as precise as a drill sergeant leading a march. Her hand barely rests in mine, her other on my shoulder like she’s keeping me at arm’s length—literally.
“Relax,” I say, leaning in slightly. “You look like you’re bracing for impact.”
Her eyes narrow. “It’s called proper form.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “Lainey, we’re not in a ballroom dance competition. Nobody’s judging your tango skills.”
She lifts an eyebrow. “And I suppose you’re an expert now?”
“Oh, absolutely.” I give her a mock-serious look. “You didn’t know? I moonlight as a dance instructor in the off-season. ‘Two-Step withZach’ is very exclusive. Clients wait months for a lesson.”
That earns me a surprised laugh, soft and genuine, and it catches me off guard for a moment. “Two-Step with Zach? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”
“You’d be surprised. I’ve got moves.” I slide my hand a little lower on her back and gently guide her into a slow turn, adding a playful dip at the end.
Lainey stumbles slightly, gripping my shoulder tighter as she comes back up. “Okay, that was borderline embarrassing—for both of us.”
“It was flawless,” I correct, grinning down at her. “You just lack vision.”
She shakes her head, laughing now, and it’s the kind of laugh that makes her eyes crinkle at the corners. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Ridiculously charming,” I counter smoothly.
