Page 68 of Weddings, Revenge & Fake Dating

Roman’s expression sours. “Incredible.”

“I’d be happy to give you some first-dance pointers,” Nathan says. “I’m classically trained.”

“That would be amazing! Yes, help us! Do you think I should do something fun with the bridal party too? Like a flash mob? Maybe that zombie song or the finale dance from Dirty Dancing?” Sophia’s hands flutter with excitement at each new idea.

Roman mutters under his breath.

Nathan beams. “It so happens I know all those dances.”

“Me too!” I playfully nudge my knee with his.

Simultaneously, Nathan and I launch into zombie mode. With dead-faced expressions, our shoulders pop in repetition before our hands swim through the air. From a sitting position, we act out the dance moves together.

“Looks like dance practice with Mini-Wolf paid off.” Nathan rolls me into a hug when we finish.

“That’s not the only thing I practiced for,” I whisper.

“We’ll reenact every naughty thing later,” he says softly, holding my gaze with a wicked glint. He lifts my hands to his mouth and kisses my knuckles. It’s an unspoken promise for what’s coming.

I snag my bottom lip with my teeth, considering how I’ll survive the day without jumping him. Would it be rude to hump my date at my ex-husband’s wedding event?

The boat tour continues along the Venetian Causeway, circles Fisher Island, and then cruises Government Cut. After passing the downtown skyline, the boat anchors at the Nixon Beach Sandbar in the middle of the bay. At least fifty boats unrelated to the wedding are already here partying. Our boat ties onto the other boats until we form a chain.

Nathan lifts his shirt over his head like an underwear model. I’m enthralled as each sculpted ab is revealed. When he twists and tosses his shirt, all the muscles in his tanned back flex.

“Race you to the sandbar.” From the edge of the boat, he backflips into the clear teal waters with a splash. He surfaces in the bobbing waves and rakes his fingers through his soaked hair.

I cannonball off the stern, plunging nearby with a splash. As soon as I break through the water’s surface, our swimming race for the long stretch of sand begins.

Our afternoon date unfolds in spectacular rom-com movie fashion. It’s the fun part where scenes flash in a quick montage of moments, set to a Latin dance song.

Scene one.

We eat lunch from floating food trucks. I squirt Nathan with mustard. He dodges away, and the yellow globs land on Freddie. Hungry seagulls swarm him.

Scene two.

Nathan and I attempt paddleboarding, but I don’t have the required balance. I fall into the water several times before giving up. Eventually, seated at Nathan’s feet, I navigate as he paddles between the boats. Dolphins play in the sparkling waters nearby.

Scene three.

Nathan reapplies sunblock all over my body, drawing shapes like finger paint. I do the same to him but take my time. When things heat up, I splash him and run. He chases me, slings an arm around my stomach, and tosses me into the water. We’re confronted by a devil ray and escape in the opposite direction, screaming for our lives.

Scene four.

On the sandbar, Nathan and I teach the Dirty Dancing finale dance. Dex’s moves are a little stiff. Freddie adds his own flair like a seasoned stripper that makes everyone uncomfortable. The bridesmaids have a dance-off with the groomsmen. Sophia judges but claims everyone the winner. Roman, like a creep, hides under the shade of the boat’s awning.

Scene five.

The sun sinks behind the Miami skyline, creating a port-wine-cheese-colored sky. Massive cruise ships sail past, heading out to sea. Cruisers wave to us as they sip frozen tropical drinks from a conga line.

The remaining party boats are pimped out with twinkling lights. Underneath the hull, neon running lights illuminate the bay. Kids laugh and play with fizzling sparklers. They draw hearts in the darkness.

Finally by ourselves, Nathan and I practice the Dirty Dancing water-lift scene. With his hands on my hips, I launch from the water, my body tight and arms spread like a bird. Because of his incredible strength, I’m able to fly. For a few seconds, at least, before I dive into the water, taking him with me. We surface in each other’s arms.

End montage with the sound of a scratching record.

The party, the fireworks in the distance, the boats, and all the people blur into the background. Droplets of water bead at the tips of Nathan’s eyelashes, then slide down his face and over his wet lips. I ease closer, wanting to taste them.