Chapter Thirty
DREW
Iforced myself to stay calm, even though every muscle screamed to step in and shut this fucking farce down for Ellie’s sake. She didn’t need me to fight her battles—she was stronger than anyone in this room gave her credit for. My job was to stand at her back and be ready when she needed me.
The door to the studio creaked open and, of course, Glamma slipped inside, barefoot, with her phone at the ready.
“Glamma, what brings you here?” Dee asked, cuing up the music.
“Promised Goldie’s son, Jason, I’d take pictures for the Ruby River Gazette.” Glamma grinned like she was about to MC the Oscars.
Celia stiffened, then pasted on a sugary smile. “Sofia, what a lovely surprise.”
Lovely wasn’t the word in her eyes. She clearly didn’t like sharing the spotlight.
I bit my tongue when Celia muttered, “This must be the most exciting thing to happen in Ruby River in months.”
My town had hosted Ruby Night literally yesterday, but sure, Celia’s dance rehearsal was world news.
Ellie stifled a laugh, disguising it as a cough. God, I loved her for that.
While we danced, Glamma snapped photos like paparazzi, not just of Celia but of every couple. Each flash of attention that drifted away from the bride tightened Celia’s smile another notch. By the time Kyle spun her so hard she stumbled to the floor, her composure cracked.
Silence. Then Celia snapped, “Kyle, what the hell? Focus!”
Kyle apologized, but she wasn’t having it. Her voice, once sugary, turned to a serrated edge. “Again! This time pay attention!”
They restarted. He stepped on her foot. Nearly dropped her in a dip and then turned left instead of right. Celia’s whispers grew louder until half the room could hear her tantrum.
Dee clapped. “Let’s relax and switch things up. Can we have everyone join in now and practice?”
Ellie stiffened, heart thumping against my arm. “Who am I partnered with?”
Celia batted her lashes. “Gosh, I forgot. One of the groomsmen couldn’t arrive until tomorrow. But I’m sure you can dance with Dee to practice.”
“I’d rather Drew stepped in, Celia,” Dee suggested. “I want to be able to help where needed and I can’t do that while dancing.”
Celia blinked. “Uh, sure.”
“Let’s do this,” I said to Ellie.
“You don’t have to,” she whispered.
“Trust me,” I murmured back.
Her chin lifted. She looked straight at her sister. “You know what? Fine. This is your wedding Celia. If you want me to go next, I will.”
Pride surged in me. That was my girl.
“Perfect,” Celia said, her smirk sharp enough to cut glass.
Game on.
I winked at Glamma, who was practically vibrating with glee.
Dee pressed play and familiar waltz music filled the air. I set my palm at Ellie’s back, our fingers lacing.
She gasped at the first step, nearly tripping over my foot.
“It’s okay,” I whispered. “One, two, three. Follow me.” I was grateful to the ballroom dance lessons Glamma had us all take.
Ellie’s eyes locked on mine. The panic softened into determination. She stumbled again, but I steadied her and spun her just enough to make her laugh.
Then she missed a step completely and landed on my foot. Hard.
I groaned.
“Sorry!” she mouth, mortified.
“Don’t be. I have another foot.”
Her giggle broke through the tension, and suddenly she wasn’t flailing—she was trying.
We moved across the floor, my whispered counts and gentle nudges guiding her. She wasn’t graceful, but she was all in. Her hair slipped from its clip, curls bouncing against her cheeks, and when she smiled, the whole room tilted.
“Woo! You two are on fire!” Glamma hollered, snapping pictures of every step.
Ellie blushed, nearly slowing down at the distraction. I dipped her low enough to make her squeal, then pulled her back upright, steady and safe.
She curtsied. I bowed. And the room applauded. I hadn’t realized everyone had been watching us. I’d been so focused on Ellie.
Ellie stood taller and took the applause in stride. For once, she wasn’t shrinking under Celia’s glare. She was glowing.
“Excellent job, everyone!” Dee clapped. “Let’s get in place for the hip hop section. Any questions about the choreography I emailed?”
Ellie raised her hand. “I never got that email.” Her voice was polite, but her eyes shifted to her sister. “Celia, maybe you can forward it to me?”
A crack flickered in Celia’s mask before she slapped on her pageant smile. “Of course. Must’ve been a glitch.”
Ellie didn’t apologize. Didn’t cover for her sister. She stood firm.
My chest squeezed with pride.
Music thumped. Everyone hit their marks. Ellie froze, eyes wide.
I slid behind her, hands at her hips. “Like this,” I whispered, guiding her sway.
“Not helping,” she responded, stepping the wrong way and smacking into my chest.
“Definitely helping.” I grinned.
Next move, she stomped on my toe again.
“Pretty sure I’m concussed in my foot now,” I muttered.
She laughed so loud half the room glanced over, and for the first time, Ellie didn’t shrink from the attention. “How do you know this dance?”
I glanced at Glamma. “Blame her. She wouldn’t leave my office one day until I tried it with her for her channel.”
Ellie’s mood was a mess, her timing off—but she owned every mistake. By the third round she was laughing at herself, and the rest of the group relaxed laughing at theirs, too. The mood had shifted.
Except for Celia, whose permanent scowl deepened with every cheer or encouragement Ellie got.
“Come on, Ellie,” Glamma shouted, now bouncing her own hips, her phone filming the chaos. “Give ‘em the shimmy!”
Ellie snorted mid-step and completely lost the beat, dissolving into helpless laughter. I couldn’t stop myself from joining her.
By the fourth run-through, the entire wedding party was having fun—bumping into each other, exaggerating their worst moves, laughing, even Constance and George cracked a smile. And somehow Ellie had become the center of it—not by being perfect, but by being real.
When she tripped over her foot for the third time and nearly face-planted into me, I caught her against my chest. She tilted her head back, cheeks flushed from laughter, eyes sparkling.
“Still think I’m on fire?” she asked.
I bent low, brushing my lips against her temple where sweat dampened her hair. “Absolutely. Hottest person in this room.”
Her smile softened into something that punched me right in the sternum. She gave my hand a quick squeeze before letting go, slipping back into the line of dancers like nothing had happened.
But the warmth of her lingered in my arms.
I looked around and saw it—a shift in the room. Faces that used to dismiss Ellie now flicked toward her with something else. Curiosity. Admiration. Affection.
And I thought, that’s right. My girl is magnetic. She’s fucking fantastic. Anyone in her orbit is lucky.
Especially me.