Kane turns pale. “My body isn’t made for this. Give me a tree to chop to music, and I’ll do it. This? Not my specialty.”
“You’ll be fine,” I assure him. “Just follow Noel’s lead, as he looks ready.”
“I have an idea for a joint routine,” Noel explains.
Kane groans. “Please tell me it’s notDirty Dancing. I’m not lifting you above my head.”
Noel chuckles. “Nope, but the other night, I watchedMagic Mike.”
“Of course you did,” Kane mutters.
“We’re going to grind that floor,” Noel continues. “Watch the women go wild for us. It’ll be fun.”
Ruby and I exchange glances. “This could flop spectacularly,” I whisper to her.
“Or it could be legendary,” Ruby counters. “Either way, it’s going to be entertaining.”
“I need a drink,” Kane says.
“After,” I tell him firmly. “You two practice. I’m going to calm the crowd and introduce you.”
I head back out front with Ruby, my heart pounding. The women are getting restless, some standing and stretching, others at the bar getting refills. The energy is flagging. I encourage everyone to get their last drinks as the next act is about to start, so they all rush to the bar, buying us some time.
Once they’re all back in their seats, Ruby’s DJ, who also runs the lights, dims them, and I grab the microphone from where it’s resting on a small table near the DJ booth set up in the corner, away from the stage.
The DJ nods at me, and I go over to him and ask for something high-beat but sexy. He ponders it, and finally he’s nodding. So with a deep breath, I step up onto the stage and lift the microphone to my mouth.
“Ladies!” I call out, and gradually conversations die down. “Are you having a good time?”
Cheers and whistles.
“Those bad boys who crashed our stage? They’re ready to take down their next targets. Could that be you?”
More cheers, and screams of “Me!”
“Well, they’re ready to give you a performance you’ll never forget!” I’m selling this hard, hoping I’m not overselling. “Just remember, no touching unless invited! Let’s hear it for The Bounty Hunters!”
The crowd erupts. Women are on their feet.
I hand the microphone back to Ruby, and we retreat to our spot by the brick wall.
“I have no idea what to expect,” she whispers.
“Me either. But here goes nothing.”
The DJ kills all the lights except for two blue spotlights that suddenly illuminate the back of the stage.
Noel and Kane are standing there, perfectly still, and even from here, I see the tension in their bodies.
The music starts with a heavy bass beat that I don’t just hear but also feel vibrate through my chest. It’s layered with something sultry underneath, a rhythm that makes my hips want to move.
The guys remain still for several long seconds, and panic flutters in my chest.Please don’t freeze. Don’t have stage fright.
Then they move. In perfect synchronization, they take slow, deliberate strides forward. Their boots hit the stage in pattern with the beat, and the sound echoes through the venue.
The women scream.
I smile, butterflies erupting in my stomach.
