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He shakes his head as we all get out of the car.

Liam wraps an arm around my shoulders. “She digs the hat, I guess?”

I have on my favorite Stetson. Not the one I’ll wear for the wedding, but my everyday hat. It’s black with a thin black leather band around it. I’m wearing my boots that she likes too.

“She loves the hat.” I wink at him.

We hear the girls before we see them. Peyton, Mia, and Livi are sitting near the front of the stage, whistling at the guydancing in front of them. Emma and Charlie are sitting around the back of their table, not watching the show but talking to each other.

“I’m gonna go find the guy I need to talk to in order to get backstage. You guys hang back here so Emma doesn’t see you.”

They all nod, and I make my way to the back.

“You Archie?” a guy in a black shirt asks me.

“That I am.”

“You’re dancing for your girl, right?”

“Yeah. I’m the only one who can dance for her. I don’t want any other guy onstage but me while she’s up there.”

“Not a problem. Hey, I gotta ask though. You just got drafted to the Cowboys, right?”

“Depends on how you plan to use this information.”

The guy tilts his head back and laughs. “Buddy, you don’t have to worry about anonymity here. We have to sign pretty strict agreements. You’d be surprised if you knew who came in here. So, no offense, man, but you ain’t newsworthy enough to lose my job over.”

Okay then. I hold my fist out for him to bump, and he does and laughs.

“Good luck this season, man. We need some guys like you on offense.”

“Thanks. I can’t wait to get out there and get it done.”

He nods, then looks around the curtain. “Looks like you’re up. Your girl is sitting in the chair onstage.”

“Thanks, man.”

I walk up the few stairs to the stage, and the lights are off. As soon as “Pony” by Ginuwine starts playing, I walk out onstage. Now, I’m not a dancer, but I do know how to move my body. And I’ve been known to eat up attention, so the loud cheers that erupt when I slide around the stage feed my ego just a little.

When I get to the chair, Emma is blindfolded, and she’s wearing a sash that saysMotherandBride-to-Be, written inmarker. I try to hold in my laugh, thinking about how much Emma probably hated the whole idea of this.

Because I have zero patience, as soon as the lyrics start, I take hold of her blindfold and slowly lower it down. When she opens her eyes, she looks up at me and smirks.

“I knew it.”

Instead of answering, I place my hat on her head and start dancing up on her. I straddle her lap while standing and take hold of the back of the chair with one hand while brushing my fingers down her face with my other hand.

My friends and Emma’s are whistling and catcalling from the table in front of the stage. But my eyes, they’re on Emma.

I roll my hips because I’m here to put on a show after all. Her eyes move down my body, and I see the heat in them. This is turning her on. I know that look well.

When I push off the chair to stand, I grab the hem of my shirt.

“Oh, babe. You’re pulling it all out, huh?”

Instead of answering her, I give her the smile I know makes her melt, then take off my shirt and toss it to her. She catches it and sets it on her lap.

Emma motions me toward her with her index finger, so I slide my way back over to her. When I’m straddling her, she works her hands from my stomach up to my chest.