Page 84 of Never Stop
Easton held my hand, and we entered the ballroom. Our guests were seated at round white linen table clothes with spectacular centerpieces that held red roses. They were all smiling and clapping, and I smiled brightly in return as we made our way to the head table. Traditionally the bridesmaids sat on the bride’s side of the table and the groomsmen sat on the groom’s side, but I didn’t care about traditions, so Avery and Nicole sat on Easton’s side, and Bailee and Gary sat on my side.
We were doing our own thing.
Usually, the couple walked in and went straight to their first dance, but we’d elected to eat first. After Nicole’s speech, it was time for mine and Easton’s first dance. I had no idea what song was going to be played since Easton had wanted to pick it out. He was keeping a tight lip on the things he planned for the wedding. I still didn’t have a clue where we were going for our honeymoon, and Bailee and Nicole even packed for me. At first, I wanted to protest because I had control issues about that sort of thing, but they told me to trust them and, more importantly, to trust Easton. Of course I did, so I let them pack for my week long honeymoon—destination unknown.
Easton led me to the wooden dance floor next to the DJ. The beat of drums and fast strumming of guitars rang in my ears, and my eyes widened in surprise as I looked up at my husband.
“What the…?” I laughed.
“Just go with it.” He smiled.
“I don’t know how to dance to this,” I admitted. It wasn’t the typical slow first dance song, but we were pretty much doing our own thing, so it fit. I just didn’t know how to dance to the fast paced beat other than jumping around like I was at a rock concert.
Easton took my hand, brought it to his chest and pulled me into him causing me to wrap my free hand around his shoulders and his around my waist. He started to sway his hips, ignoring the tempo of the song. I went with it like he’d instructed and the moment the singer started to sing the first words, I got it.
“This song—”
“Says exactly how I feel.”
A lump form in my throat at his words because the singer had said it washislove song tome.
“It’s perfect,” I choked out.
“It’s calledNever Stopand it’s by SafetySuit. I chose it—”
“Because you’ll never stop loving me,” I finished for him, remembering his vows and what caused me to say the same exact thing to him.
“That and everything else in this song. It’s like—”
“The songMagicI walked down the aisle to.”
Easton grinned. “Exactly.” We danced for a few words and then he said, “They have a wedding version, but I like this one better. It’s more my style.”
Tears pricked my eyes, and I tried not to cry. We had both chosen songs to express ourselves. Music did that for people. It was why music was created, and now, every time I thought aboutMagicandNever Stop, I’d always think about this day and the love of my life.
I listened to the words, realizing we were dancing at a slow pace and it fit with the song. Then the tempo changed, and Easton spun me and brought me back to him. I giggled, trying to sway my body to the new beat. We weren’t dancing to the rhythm any longer.
We were doing our own thing.
I was laughing, and Easton was chuckling, but the words weren’t lost on me.
He’d never stop trying.
He’d never stop watching me leave.
He’d never stop losing his breath when he saw me.
He’d never stop holding my hand.
He’d never stop opening my door.
He’d never stop choosing me.
And more importantly, he’d never stop loving me.
When I was planning our wedding, I knew there would be our first dance, and Easton’s dance with his mother. I even wanted to have a money dance, and I couldn’t wait to watch Easton dance with Cheyenne. But I didn’t have adadfor the traditional father/daughter dance. I hadn’t had a father figure my entire life—until Jimmy.
Both Jimmy and Jane loved everyone in Easton’s life. They had taken Avery in as their son after he graduated from college, and it was no different with me. They both had made me feel like a part of the family. The first words out of Jimmy’s mouth after our introduction were, “So, Brooke, East tells me that you live in Boston. Are you a Red Sox fan?”
