“The fuck?” I half huffed, half laughed, then screeched to a stop, my shoes literally squeaking on the floor.
Luke.
A group of women, some older, but others young and pretty in their pink, glittering dresses, stood in a circle around him. His mother smiled and laughed with the others. Was his wife-to-be among them? Was this another attempt to stud him out? Georgina wasn’t there. Who this time? An oil tycoon’s daughter? A fucking princess?
I dropped my chin and balled my hands so tightly, the joints popped.
Luke’s eyes were on mine. Sad eyes. Wary, pain-filled eyes. Eyes I’d missed much more than I knew.
“Luke,” I whispered.
As if he heard me, as if I’d pulled his leash, he jolted forward, disrupting the women, who cut off their laughter and conversations with gasps. I stayed frozen, as much in shock as them.
Luke barreled right for me, a sexy determination in his stride, hands loose and jaw set. He cut a line through the dancers, not stopping, not dodging. They moved for him.
I swallowed hard, which didn’t make a dent in my scorched throat.
He stopped, right here, inches from me, and extended his hand.
“Will you dance with me?”
Istaredathishand, held palm up and steady between us. “Y-your mother? Those women?”
“I’m not asking them to dance, Asher. I’m asking you.”
Was this real? Was I dreaming? “I don’t know how to dance.”
Luke grinned, just a twitch at the corner of his mouth. “I’ll show you, if you’ll let me.”
I wasn’t sure what to do. Was this a test? I didn’t want to embarrass him or out him, but his voice was getting to me. The warm timbre ran smoother than the chocolate fountain I’d been ready to curse not two minutes ago.
“I missed you,” I whispered, still not taking his hand, kind of afraid of it, but needing to say the words before all of this ended. “I love you. I love you so much.” My voice cracked on the confession as the tears spilled. “And I miss you terribly.”
“Asher.” Luke closed the distance between us, one arm sweeping me against his chest. He cupped my cheek, pressed his forehead to mine. “I love you, Asher.”
Breath shuddered hard against my ribs.
“Please, can we start over? As it should’ve been. Months ago,when we first met, when I should’ve seen the man I’d grow to love in that hallway outside the men’s room. Can we do that now? Will you, Asher, be mine?”
“No, well, I mean yes, but call me Asher again in front of all these people. Call me Asher, not Ashley.”
“Asher,” he whispered and rubbed his forehead back and forth on mine. “Asher. Asher Brandt, the man I love. My playboy.”
“Ah, fuck me,” I breathed.
“Yes, but dance with me first? Your mother wants pictures.”
I choked on a laugh, then nodded. “Yes. Yeah, okay.”
Luke swept me into the dancers, just as the first strains of “Lover” by Taylor Swift began to play. His confident strides and strong arms had me floating, my toes barely touching the floor as he held me to him, wrapped in his arms, wrapped in his love for all to see.
Luke hummed along with the song, and I softly sang the few words I knew until my voice grew too hoarse with emotion.
He moved me into the middle of the dance floor. Couples swayed around us like extras in a movie. My friends and family stood at the edge, watching and holding each other, Momma in tears while the others grinned.
Luke tipped my chin with his fingertips, moving us gently from side to side, then placed his warm lips to my jaw. “Give me the chance to make this right,” he whispered, then kissed under my ear.
I lowered my head to stare into his soul-deep gaze, searching for answers. “Who … You’re doing this for you?”
