Page 38 of Unexpectingly Happily Ever After

Morgan nudges me. “Check out what just walked in the door. Can we have him in the soap opera?”

I glance over and my jaw literally drops. “Fuck a duck–what’sthat?″

A group of men walks in, wearing nothing fancier than baggy jeans and white T-shirts but commanding the attention of every woman in the place by the way they wear those jeans and simple shirts. I’ve never seen better bodies.

J.B. still looks good, but my hubby has nothing on these boys.

It’s as if a scene fromMagic Mikehas come to life. Even though these boys still have their clothes on, even though my experience with male dancers has been once when I was twenty, and once when I was thirty-four, I can tell in an instant that these guys are strippers.

″Close your mouth, Casey!” Morgan laughs. “I think they’re coming over.”

The group of seven extremely sexy men do come our way but bypass us for Brit’s little bride-to-be friend and her group. They saunter, they swagger, they exude arrogance with every step. Normally, I’m turned off by such a display of raw cockiness, but I’m tired and they’re very good-looking.

And in a matter of minutes, they succeed in returning Brit to us.

″Asshats,” she grumbles after weaving her way through the throng of bodies. It was as if every available person in the place flocks to the dancers, males as well as females.

“Are you too old for them?” I ask her sympathetically. Brit is all about fighting off each and every sign of aging and as a result, she can easily pass for thirty-three rather than forty-three. She looks good, even at ten-thirty inthe morning.

But her little bride friend is twenty-five if she’s a day, and cute as a button. And her three bridesmaids all have impressive chest measurements that haven’t been impacted by the sands of time. As good as Brit looks, there’s no competing with that.

″They’re looking to get laid,” Brit says dismissively. “And I’m not.”

“Who are they?” Morgan asks. I can’t help but notice her attention has been caught by one of the men. All of them must be at least six-five; they tower over the group like the women are children.

″Tower of Power, Power Tower–something like that. They’re strippers, Morgan, can’t you tell? A cheap version ofThunder from Down Under.”

“They don’t seem cheap to me,” I muse. I notice Morgan has caught the eye of one of them–taller than the others, bald, and with a chest as broad as the Mississippi. He gives her a shy smile. His smile triggers a memory. “Hang on a sec.” I fish in my back pocket and pull out the flyer which has molded nicely to my backside. “A guy gave me this in the casino. I think it was him.”

We stare at the paper advertisingThe Power of the Tower.And from the looks of it, Morgan’s new admirer is at the centre of whatever power we’re talking about.

″He’s a stripper?” Morgan whispers, her face falling.

“So?” Without giving her a chance to stop me, I stalk toward Shy Smile. To give him credit, he moves away from the group when he sees me coming.

″What is she doing?” I hear Brit after me.

″Was that you in the casino earlier?” I wave the flyer at him.

″Ah, the lady of the coins,” he says, his smile widening. He’s very cute, with dimples and everything. I glance back to see Morgan, eyes wide and staring.

″I still haven’t cashed them in,” I say. “I had to pick up my friends. That’s them over there.” I gesture to where Morgan is now shaking her head frantically. “That’s Brit, who’s getting married, and Morgan, who’s not.”

″Not getting married, or isn’t married?” he wonders.

″Not married at all.” I grin. “Would you like to meet her?”

And it’s as easy as that. I usher Brit off to the side after a few minutes because it seems like Morgan is doing just fine.

I like the way she smiles at him. I’m not sure how a man larger than The Rock, aka Dwayne Johnson, can look sweet, but this guy does. Sweet and shy and–

″Whatis she doing?” Brit hisses as we watch them.

″She’stalking to him, so let’s give her a minute.” Brit huffs a response and taps her foot with annoyance. “Give her a minute,” I repeat. “She hasn’t met anyone in a while.”

″Being a single mother will do that to you.”

″Now who’s talking about kids?”

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