Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
GREYSON
I’m feeling ten feet tall when I jump off that stage. I knew I could woo her.
Line dancing? Not so sure.
“What exactly is your game plan here?” Braxton asks after I toss my shirt on stage.
“Full and complete humiliation. If I can’t win by following the moves, I’m hoping to make them feel bad enough for me that they vote for me anyway.”
“You’ll get an A for effort.” Sage hoots louder than Pops on my other side.
“Exactly.”
“You’ve got this, Greyson.”
Peering to my left, I grin at Madi and Clover, who are climbing the stage stairs while giving me two thumbs up.
Fuck yes, I’ve got this.
“How many times did you watch those videos last night?” Braxton raises his voice as the music starts.
Too many. That’s how many. I may have also incorporated some old-school male stripper moves too.
Please God, do not let me pull my groin.
The music picks up, and I step forward, out of the line, giving myself plenty of room.
And so I don’t unintentionally hurt anyone.
Being crowned most eligible bachelor meant I got to choose the music. Clover was all too happy to suggest “Country Girl” by Luke Bryan. My only hope is to shake my ass every time he sings about it.
“Go, Grey, go.” It sounds like Elle, and I laugh as I begin to move.
I’m much better at this than I thought I’d be. All that practice last night must have finally paid off. Either that, or it’s the swig of moonshine Roman gave me a half hour ago.
Jumping to the left, I stumble when I realize everyone else is facing away from me.
Okay, so perhaps not as good as I thought.
The song blares all around me until it’s vibrating through me. I become one with this damn song, and I pull out a move that hopefully won’t scar any small children. Thrusting my hips forward, I grind against air, and the catcalls begin.
That must be a good sign.
If this makes it to the tabloids, we’ll need to revamp our in-house PR consultants.
Savvy catches my eye, and I trip over my feet at the smile she graces me with. She’s biting her bottom lip like she doesn’t want to laugh, so I do it for her.
Lifting both hands, I flash her the universal who the fuck knows gesture.
I can’t hear her laughter over the music, but it washes over me just the same.
I’m sweating more than I did playing football.
How long can this song possibly go on for?
Reaching into the recesses of my vast three-day-old dancing knowledge, I pull out another award-winning move and drop to the ground. Using one hand to prop myself up, I roll my hips.
Dirty? Yes. Appropriate? Probably not. A hit? Fuck yeah, it is. Everyone cheers.
Braxton’s laughing so hard he falls over just as the song finally ends. Sage, the little shit, has his phone pointed at me in my one-handed plank position.
Cian’s doubled over, hands on his knees, Elle pounding on his back.
Slowly, I lift myself to stand, almost too afraid to make eye contact with anyone else as I dust off my hands.
As long as I win this damn competition, it doesn’t matter what kind of fool I’ve made of myself.
“Well, folks.” Moose is struggling to contain his laughter, so I feel like that should be bonus points. “I can’t say we’ve ever had a competition quite like that.”
“You were a cross between Napoleon Dynamite and Jenna Ortega’s version of Wednesday Addams.” Braxton is still wheezing on the ground.
It wasn’t that bad.
When I finally look up to Savvy, she’s standing on the edge of the stage with both hands covering her mouth and eyes full of mirth.
Fine, maybe it was worse than bad, but I’d do it all over again if it put that joyful shine in her eyes.
“Can we have all the contestants line up on stage?” Moose says. “We’ll announce a winner by applause.”
“Fuck me, that’s how they do it?” I mutter, which makes Braxton laugh even harder.
I line up like cattle and walk on stage but bypass half the other assholes so I can stand behind Savvy. When guys line up on either side of her, I wrap my arm around her shoulders too, just to be clear about where my priorities are.
“Hi.” She grins up at me.
“Hi.”
“Drill Bit’s back, I see.” Her shoulders shake beneath my grip.
Lowering my arms to her waist, I tug her into me and smirk when I nestle my length into her ass. “Never left, sweetheart.”
Moose walks down the line, hovering a hand over each jackass up on stage. A roar of applause has me straightening my spine, then leaning back to see who the asshole is.
“That’s Eddie,” Savvy whispers.
“Why do you know that?” I think the town fair is giving me lockjaw.
“Because he won the last three years but has no interest in settling down. Word on the street is his hips don’t lie, if you know what I mean.”
“Stop. Talking.”
Her belly shakes beneath my palm, and all I want to do is toss her over my shoulder and drag her ass home.
“Stop scowling, Grey.” She giggles, and I frown harder, hoping to hear it again. “You’re supposed to be putting on a show.”
“You’re enjoying this entirely too much.”
She shrugs. “I mean, you’re not wrong.”
“Braxton said I looked like Napoleon Dynamite and Wednesday Addams had a baby.” When did I succumb to pouting?
This town is ruining me.
Savvy gasps and chokes, then gurgles on her laughter. I stand with a grimace plastered on my face while Moose holds his hand above the guy on my right, and then the guy on my left.
What the actual hell is going on? “Did he just skip right over me?”
I glare down the line of contestants and huff out a small tantrum.
There’s no way I was worse than Chief—even he got applause.
I scan all available exits in case I need a quick escape. Roman leans against the railing, obviously suffering some kind of secondhand embarrassment. He shakes his head in disgust, but I swear I saw his lip quirk up when I dropped it like it was hot.
“And we have one more contestant,” Moose says, walking back toward center stage.
Holy shit, I’m nervous. I’ve never been chosen last for anything in my entire goddamn life.
Is that what’s happening now?
I move to a small town for my family, meet a woman who drives me up the damn wall, fall in love with the maniac, then lose my mojo too?
“Greyson,” Moose calls, and for one painfully horrifying moment, it’s dead silent, and my lungs seize in my chest, but then just as quickly, I feel like a goddamn rock star when the deafening cheers hit the stage.
Existential crisis, my ass. I’ve still got it, motherfuckers.
I throw my arms up in the air and yell like I just won the Super Bowl, then I do what I wanted to do earlier—I toss Savvy over my shoulder and haul her away.
“Roman.” He stops a few feet ahead of us. “You can send your guys home.” I glance down at Savvy. I’ve felt her exhaustion for the last hour. “We’re all heading home, so I’ve got it from here.”
“I’m starving,” Madi says to our left. “Can we please hit up the food trucks on our way out? They’re right by the parking lot.”
“Grey, I think we should stay.” Roman looks from me to Carson, who also nods. “Just because we haven’t seen Riley doesn’t mean he isn’t here.”
The fact that he thinks I can’t protect my wife instantly puts me on the defensive, but logically, I understand he’s just doing his job.
“Brax,” I say. “We’ll meet you by the picnic tables, okay?”
His gaze darts between Roman and me like he wants to say something, but then silently guides Madi toward the exit.
“It’s fifteen minutes, tops, Roman. I’m not going to leave her side. I’ve got this.”
He steps forward, and I regret having Savvy between us now.
“And I disagree. If I pull my guys, this would be the perfect time for Riley to strike.”
“You said yourself you haven’t seen him tonight. I appreciate your expertise, but I’m perfectly capable of getting Savvy home.”
Roman drops his head back and looks to the stars. I’m fairly certain he mutters “arrogant prick” to the night sky.
“This is my case, Grey,” he says. “I’m not sending my guys home unless you fire us. I will, however, have them pull back and do a perimeter sweep until you leave. It’s the best I can do. I’m not willing to sacrifice my reputation because you want to play hero.”
“Play her—”
“That’s fine,” Savvy says, cutting me off. “Thanks, Roman. I’m really tired, so as soon as we get Madi all her snacks, we’ll head home.”
He nods, then speaks into his earpiece with a pissed-off scowl tossed my way.
Roman will have to learn not to underestimate me if he wants to continue working together.
“You hired him because he’s the best,” Savvy says when we’re out of earshot. “You should probably listen to him.”
“Monroe, you’ve been on edge and uncomfortable with them around since you arrived. I can keep you safe for five minutes so you can relax with your friends before we call it a night.”
She shrugs at the same time a yawn swallows her face.
We find Clover, Braxton, and Madi sitting at a picnic table with every type of fried food you can imagine spread out over the top. You really can’t fight a pregnant woman’s cravings, but I’ve never seen it displayed so…gluttonously before either.
They must have hit every food vendor before commandeering this lonely picnic table and stuffing their faces with sugar in every form of confection.
I don’t hate it.
I especially don’t hate how Savvy curls into my sprawled legs when I straddle the bench seat.
“I don’t think anyone will ever beat Grey’s…inspired performance today,” Clover says earnestly.
“Inspired by what? Satan?” Braxton will never let me live this down.
“I won the first competition, didn’t I?” I see no reason to hide my smug pride as I reach over Savvy for a piece of fried dough covered in powdered sugar. “Tell me again how this is any different than a donut?”
Clover gasps as though I’ve said something blasphemous.
It’s a fucking donut.
“It’s fried dough, completely different.” Clover might add me to her hit list for this offense.