Page 98 of Three Pucking Wedding Dates

My heart skips a beat, both at the request and the way people around us seem to hold their breaths in anticipation. I glance at Theo, who gives me a nod of approval, and turn back to Reid, my cheeks flushed with excitement.

“Sure, why not?” I reply, trying to sound casual even though I’m secretly dying to see what Reid has in store for us.

“Excellent.” He grins, extending a hand toward me. As I take it, he guides me back onto the dance floor, our fingers interlocking with a familiarity that tugs at my heartstrings.

“Ready?” Reid asks, his voice low and inviting. I nod, all previous thoughts of caution evaporating in the face of his infectious enthusiasm.

“Ready,” I confirm, offering him a small smile. As we begin to move, I find myself pleasantly surprised by the fluidity of Reid’s dancing. It’s been a while since we last danced together, and the memory of our past encounters adds a layer of intimacy to our movements.

“Look at you, Oakley,” Reid murmurs as we glide across the floor. “You’re a natural.”

“Thanks to Theo,” I admit, feeling a surge of gratitude for my dance partner’s patience and dedication. “He’s taught me well.”

“Indeed he has,” Reid agrees, his eyes never leaving mine as we continue to sway in time with the music. “But there’s something to be said for your own innate talent too.”

I can’t deny the warmth that blooms in my chest at his words, but I also recognize the playful glint in Reid’s eyes. He knows how to push my buttons, and right now, he’s doing a damn fine job of it.

“Is this just flattery, or are you going somewhere with this?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Can’t it be both?” Reid counters, his grin widening. “I’m simply stating facts while also enjoying the pleasure of your company on the dance floor.”

“Right,” I chuckle, feeling my resistance crumble under the weight of his charm. “Well, keep it up then. I could get used to this.”

“Consider it done,” he promises, spinning me around with a flourish that has the room erupting in applause.

The music shifts from the gentle waltz to a sultry rhythm, and Reid’s eyes lock with mine, his grin turning wicked. “Ready for a change of pace?” he asks, his voice low and inviting.

“Bring it on,” I challenge, my heart pounding with anticipation.

Reid doesn’t hesitate, pulling me close as we transition seamlessly into a fiery tango. His strong arm wraps around my waist, guiding my movements while his free hand clasps mine tightly. We move in sync, our bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces as we glide across the floor.

I lose myself in the intensity of the dance, feeling the heat that radiates between us. Reid’s daring moves and dramatic flair capture the attention of everyone in the room, their whispers growing louder and more excited.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re an incredible dancer?” I breathe, my gaze locked on Reid’s mesmerizing green eyes.

“Only every time I step on the dance floor,” he teases, spinning me out and reeling me back in. “But hearing it from you makes it all the more special.”

“Flatterer,” I mutter, but I can’t deny the thrill his words spark within me.

Our passionate display comes to a sudden halt as Georgia, my stepsister and the bride-to-be, bursts into the room. Her icy blue eyes widen in surprise as she takes in the sight of Reid and me entwined on the dance floor.

“Oakley!” she exclaims, her perfectly arched eyebrows shooting up. “What is going on here?”

“Georgia,” I reply, trying to catch my breath. “Reid and I were just…dancing.”

“Clearly,” she drawls, eyeing Reid with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. “And since when did you become such a smooth dancer, Oakley? Last I saw, you were tripping over your own feet.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” I grumble, not bothering to hide my irritation. But instead of rising to her bait, I turn to Reid and smile. “You’re quite the teacher. I guess I just needed the right partner.”

“Anytime, sweetheart,” Reid says, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “I’m always up for showing you a thing or two.”

“Hello, Reid,” Georgia says reluctantly, her voice cold and sharp as she crosses her arms over her chest. The room falls silent, all eyes turning to Reid and me as tension crackles in the air.

“Hello, Georgia,” Reid says, his voice just as cold. “Long time no see.”

“Wait a minute,” one of the girls in the dance class pipes up, her eyes widening in recognition. “Are you guys the Archer brothers? Like, the famous hockey players?”

“Guilty as charged,” Reid admits with a playful wink. The room erupts into excited whispers and not-so-covert glances, and I can practically feel Georgia seething beside me.

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