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She’s so damn beautiful, the golden glow from the chandeliers twinkling in her wide green eyes.
“What?” She tips her head to the side, dark waves cascading over her shoulder.
“I’m just glad to be here with you.”
Flushing a soft pink, she smiles up at me. “I’m happy you could come with me.”
Taking her hand, I twirl her around in a wide circle, my heart pounding wildly in my chest. Being this close to her, her warm hand nestled in mine, feels so good, so magical, so right.
“You’re making quite the impression on my family.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Even Aunt Edna commented on how great you are. And she was Team Bentley all the way before tonight.”
“Well, I’m glad I’m making a good first impression.” The music swells and I tip her back, my hand pressed against the small of her back. She giggles, a slight pink blush coloring her neck as I bend her close to the ground, then raise her up again.
Lacing my fingers in hers, we sway to the beat of the music, our eyes locked on each other. Everyone on the dance floor fades away in the moment and the only person in the room—in the world—who matters right now is Madison Leigh.
The song ends way too soon, the emcee announcing the bouquet toss. All the men and a good portion of the women hurry off the floor, while a few younger ladies rush out. Madison starts making her way back to our table when Aunt Edna grabs her by the arm.
“Madison Leigh, where are you going? Get out there!” With a light shove, she pushes Madison back toward the dance floor, even as Madison shakes her head ‘no.’
“Oh, I couldn’t. I should let one of the other eligible ladies have a go at the bouquet. I’m the bridal planner, after all.”
“Nonsense! You’re a guest tonight. And besides, how are you ever going to break the curse of always being the bridal planner, never the bride?” Aunt Edna clucks, her gray head bobbing.
Madison sighs, accepting her fate as the first notes of “All the Single Ladies” booms out of the speakers. Taking her place in the semi-circle of females standing behind Charity, she inches backward, strategically positioning herself at the furthest point from the bride.
Charity grins over her shoulder at the small crowd of eligible females gathered behind her, making a big show of spinning around and counting down. Then the bouquet of white roses soars through the air, multiple hands grabbing for the roses and the chance to be the next to wed.
The bouquet rotates once, twice, three times, before hitting Madison Leigh square in the chest. Startled, she flounders, managing to catch the flowers seconds before they crash to the ground. Everyone claps and Madison blinks in disbelief, her mouth open in surprise.
“Yeah!” Charity claps her hands together, clearly thrilled her cousin caught the bouquet.
“Now the gentlemen.” The emcee urges the ladies to clear the floor and make way for the men.
I never planned on participating in this silly tradition, but figure I can’t leave Madison Leigh hanging now. I sidle out to the center of the dance floor and glance around, sizing up the competition. Cavill waves a light blue lace garter around in the air in a big, showy circle, hyping up the crowd.
“Think you’re going to catch that, caddy?” Bentley elbows me hard, knocking me off-balance. “Not really your strong suit, I wouldn’t think.”
“I have decent hand-eye coordination.” I force confidence into my voice, standing tall and straightening my shoulders.
“You’ll have to beat me to it.” Bentley eyes me up and down, and now I’m pissed, heat flooding my system.
There’s no way in hell I’m losing to this jerk-off. Even if it means I break my damn arm wrestling him for that garter. He’s not going to win.
Cavill puts on a show even bigger than Charity’s, twirling the garter around on his finger while the groomsmen shout and wolf-whistle.
There’s a reason I’m not friends with these guys. Honestly, Bentley and Cavill are both Neanderthals, and I’d love nothing more than to sweep Madison Leigh out of the ballroom right now.
But not before I catch that damn garter.
“Alright, fellas. Your turn. The guy who catches the garter just may end up with the lucky bachelorette!” The emcee leers at Madison, stoking my competitive fire even higher.
“One. Two. Three!” Cavill slingshots the garter high up in the air, the lacy undergarment ricocheting off the ceiling before crashing back down toward the parquet dance floor.
Locking my eyes on the prize, I dive forward, arm outstretched high in the air. Bentley hacks at my forearm, trying to chop it down. I throw an elbow at him, catching him square in the ribs. He inhales loudly, shoving me out of the way as the garter falls in our direction.
