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“So, you do corporate events?” she asks.
“We can do anything.”
Between Shawnie and I, we can pull off any event, and with the new Hawkeyes event coming up, I’m looking forward to showing off our new skill set.
“Would you be interested in art gallery openings?” she asks. “It wouldn’t be every time I have a showing but occasionally my boss wants a big media splash for an artist and he likes to go a little bigger with the party.”
She’s asking me to decorate for an art opening? This is right up Shawnie’s alley and when I tell her, she’s going to be thrilled.
“We would love to,” I tell her, reaching for my card in my purse and handing it to her.
“Great. I have an event in a couple of months that I need help with, so I’ll be in touch.”
“Hungry?” I hear Ryker’s voice over the music as he comes up behind me with plates of hot food.
Ryker pushes the plates to the middle of the table and Harper and I immediately dive into the fried pickles, the oil from the fryer still a little too hot to eat.
The music from the DJ all of a sudden starts to lower as the last song ends.
“I’ve got a request tonight from one of the bar guests who tells me we have a set of newlyweds in the house that eloped and didn’t get their first dance…” the DJ says over the mic.
A few whistles and claps ring out around the bar.
Instant shock sets over me as my stomach feels like it just lunged into my throat. I cough at the tiniest piece of fried pickle that I just inhaled down the wrong tube.
I smack my chest twice and then shoot a look at Ryker.
Did he put the DJ up to this?
But he returns the same look of raised brow bewilderment so it couldn’t have been him. He searches the room like he’s expecting to find another newly married couple who eloped, but I’d bet money that there’s only one.
Us.
“…if I can have everyone exit the floor, for one song we’ll bring them out and play them a little something special.”
My hands turn instantly clammy and perspiration forms across my forehead. Somehow, when it comes to Ryker, I keep getting pushed into the spotlight. The first time when he proposed on the ice in front of screaming fans, and now again, in front of drunk hockey players.
I'm so much better behind the scenes, running around and making other people shine on their big day.
“Can I get Mr. and Mrs. Ryker Haynes out on the dance floor?”
“What good fortune you two have,” Harper says.
I whip a look around to see her grinning devilishly back at us.
“You did this?” he asks Harper.
“Every bride deserves her first dance, and you took that from her. Now you’re giving it back,” she tells him.
My hands begin to shake a little at the thought of dancing in front of all these people in the middle of the dance floor, but the idea of being in Ryker’s arms when I’m doing it calms me. He’s the only one I want to do this with.
“Come on, wife,” Ryker says, holding out his hand. “Dance with me.”
His eyes are warm, not a stitch of nerves in his gaze, but he plays in front of a packed stadium several times every week. This is his bread and butter. And he loves it. He might be a hockey player, but I've seen him play to the crowd—he's also an entertainer.
He pulls me gently behind him and out onto the dance floor.
Flutters of excitement break loose at the thought of our first dance. Harper’s right, we didn’t get one. There are a lot of firsts and wedding traditions that Ryker and I skipped.
