“Spanx, am I right?” Steffi tossed as she moved to wash her hands – and the woman cracked a smile knowingly before looking down. Her eyes followed, and Steffi saw the toilet paper stuck to the heel of her shoes – and rolled her eyes. Yanking it off, she threw it away, washed her hands again, and then pulled a bill out of the bodice of her dress. Thank heavens Drake hadinformed her about tipping the attendant – and she was relieved to hear that he’d learned the hard way.
Spritzing a bit of mist on her throat, happily smelling vanilla, she thanked the woman and exited the bathroom to return to the table – only to notice that Drake wasn’t there. Maybe he’d escaped to use the restroom also – or perhaps he was eyeballing his glove again.
“Hopefully, he’s not licking it again… ugh.”
Steffi looked up, gazed around the ballroom, and then met Drake’s eyes. He was waiting beside the dancefloor, where barely anyone was partaking of the soft music playing. He looked so divine, so dashing, and so handsome in his suit that it stole her breath. That was her man, her husband, her heart and soul… and she couldn’t believe that they’d actually made it to this point. What started out as a fake engagement had turned into a real love that they would tell their children and grandchildren about. Drake lifted a hand toward her, waiting, with that knowing smile that was for her – and her alone.
If the dance floor was almost empty and everyone was listening to the speakers before the auction, had he planned this? And how long had he hoped she would attend with him? He was amazing in so many ways, she realized as she glided toward him and saw his smile spread as pride flashed in his eyes.
“May I have this dance?” he asked softly the moment her fingers touched his, and she melted.
“You can have them all,” she replied tenderly, marveling once more at the miracle that had befallen both of them. Who knew the irritating neighbor that vexed her so much that she’d purchased dog poop from a stranger to sabotage his yard would be the same man treating her like a fairy tale princess now?
“I’m going to hold you to that,” he whispered, giving her a slight spin before curling her against his chest. Her eyes closed at the sensation, feeling the weight of the satin skirt flutter intoplace. She felt like Grace Kelly, maybe Ginger Rogers – this, this feeling, this beautiful movement between two souls felt like a lost artform… and her husband wanted to dance with her.
He’d planned this very moment.
“Hold me forever,” she breathed softly, putting one hand on the back of his neck and the other on his upper arm as they began to sway together. Captivated, enchanted, if she wasn’t in love with him already, there was no fighting this magic as he whirled her around the dancefloor like they owned it. Maybe that was what attracted her to him, that he was unabashedly himself and didn’t care what anyone thought. He was sarcastic, snarky, playful, yet loving – and everything she could have hoped for in a soulmate.
“What are you thinking, love?” he murmured. “You are practically aglow in my arms…”
“I’m thinking I’m so lucky to have met you.”
“I was thinking the same thing.”
“When can we go home?” she whispered softly. “This is lovely and all, but I want to be alone with you.”
“You wanna see my other dance moves, don’t ya?” he boldly whispered as he spun her around again, his meaning clear. Formal event or not, Steffi laughed loudly at his comments – but her husband wasn’t done yet. “We’ll leave after I get my glove back, woman – and not one second before.”
Pure. Unfiltered. Drake.
“I love you.”
“I love you too – and I’m not kidding about my glove.”
“I know you’re not.”
“Just so we’re clear…”
“Should I be scared?”
“It’s about to be obscene,” he admitted with a determined look on his face. “That’s my glove I was using when I first noticed you checking out my butt – and I need it back. Toot-so-sweet!”
“You mean, ‘tuit suite’?”
“I know what I said.”
She chuckled, shaking her head at her husband’s antics.
An hour later,Steffi was staring at her husband in horror.
Oh, they won the glove – and on their way to the limo, Drake was practically skipping with glee as he showed it off to her.
“See? I had this stitch repaired after playing the Rangers – and this mark is when I dove for a ball against New York… see how it’s soft and fits just right. This is important, Steffi. The right tools for the job, ya’ know. I’m sure surgeons have a favorite scalpel or something like that…”
“We should talk about money,” she whispered, reeling.
“Why?”