Gavin threw his napkin on the table. “Stay here.”

“What?” He stood, and Thea grabbed his arm. “What are you doing? Gavin, you can’t confront them!”

“Trust me.”

The two “guys” knew they’d been busted the instant his feet hit the stairs. Gavin followed them with his eyes as they pushed through the crowded bar toward a dark hallway in the back with a neon RESTROOMS sign illuminating the floor in a pink glow.

Gavin dodged dancing couples and drunk assholes in pursuit and finally threw open the bathroom door with both hands. “I know you’re in here, Mack,” he barked.

“No one by that name in here,” came a voice from the second stall.

Gavin banged on the stainless steel door. “Out. Now.”

The door opened. Gavin backed up, fists forming against his thighs. Mack walked out, hat in hand. “Why aren’t you answering our texts?”

Gavin felt something like a growl rip through his chest. “Are you fucking kidding me? That’s all you have to say to me? What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Trying to help you.”

Gavin walked down the aisle, banging on other doors. “Who else is with you?”

A second door opened, and out walked the Russian hockey player with the bad digestive system. “Ask wife if she want to dance.”

“Seriously?” he squawked in Mack’s direction. “You dragged him along?”

“He’s right,” Mack said. “She keeps looking at the dance floor. Ask her to dance.”

“I am doing just fine on this date without your help, thank you very much. And by the way, that hat and those glasses are the worst fucking disguise I’ve ever seen. Do you really think no one recognizes you?”

“No one has yet.”

“They’re probably just too embarrassed for you. They think you’ve gone crazy. And you know what? You are crazy. Certifiable. Don’t you have a goddamn life?”

“What about my disguise?” the Russian asked, looking down at his rival Red Wings’ shirt.

“It sucks.”

“No one recognizes you, anyway,” Mack said. “You were right about that washi tape, by the way. She kissed you!”

Gavin grabbed a handful of Mack’s shirt. “I swear to God—”

A toilet flushed. Gavin felt a blood vessel burst in his brain. A short, round man walked out of the stall at the end and stopped to stare at them. Mack began to whistle and look around. Gavin clenched his jaw so tightly he heard a bone crunch.

The man looked at Gavin. “I know you.”

Gavin let go of Mack’s shirt. “No, you don’t.”

“You’re Gavin Scott.”

“No, he is not,” the Russian supplied. “Gavin Scott much bigger man. And not so ugly as this one.”

The man snorted and washed his hands. In the mirror, he looked at Gavin. “You should ask her to dance. If she’s looking at the dance floor, she wants to.”

Great. Now he was getting advice from strangers in the goddamn bathroom?

The man dried his hands. “I heard nothing,” he said. Then he left.

Gavin pointed at Mack. “You are going to leave. Now.”

“Just listen to us,” Mack said. “You’re doing really well, but dance with her, and use it as a chance to get her to talk. It happens all the time in the manuals. Remember when Irena and Benedict danced the waltz? It brought them closer. People reveal secrets when they dance. It’s easier to talk to a shoulder than to a face.”

That made an absurd amount of sense, which pissed Gavin off.

The door opened again, and in strode a security guard in a gray uniform. He surveyed the scene. “Everything all right in here?”

“Yep,” Mack said. “Nothing to see here.”

“A woman said she was worried that her husband might be in trouble.”

Gavin extended his hand. “My name is Gavin Scott, and I’m a player for the Nashville Legends. These two men are harassing my wife and me, and I’d like you to throw them out, please.”

“Let’s go.” The security guard took Mack’s arm. He hesitated when he realized Mack was solid muscle. “Um . . .”

Mack ignored the guard. “When you get home, ask if you can kiss her in the driveway. In your car. She’ll love it. I read it in this one book, and I tried it on a girl once, and I swear, she melted on my lap like butter.”

“This man is clearly unhinged,” Gavin told the security guard.

“Have you been drinking, sir?” the security guard asked.

Mack nodded. “Yes. Good. I’ll pretend I’m drunk. Make sure Thea sees this when he throws us out. You can follow us out and be all, get the fuck out of here, and be all alpha male and shit.”

“You’re insane.”

Mack put his hat back on. “I’m telling you, she’ll open up with you after all this. You’ll be thanking us later.”

The security guard pulled on Mack’s arm. “Look, I don’t know what the hell is going on in here, and I’m not sure I want to know, but you two, out.”

He shoved Mack toward the door. The Russian followed. “My disguise does not suck.”

A small, curious crowd had formed outside the bathroom, because who isn’t curious when a security guard goes into the john at a bar? Mack turned to look over his shoulder and made as big a scene as possible. “I love you, man,” he cried, stumbling for effect. “I’m a huge fan. Huge.”

Gavin pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Yes. Huge fan,” the Russian said, inexplicably throwing his arms high in the air.

“Out you go,” the security guard said, pushing them to the door.

Gavin ignored the looks and questions from people as he walked back around the dance floor. He looked up to see Thea leaning over the railing, biting her lip. He took the stairs two at a time.

She rushed over to him. “What happened?”

“Nothing. It’s fine.”

“What did you say to them?”

“I told them that I was enjoying a nice evening with my wife and that I would appreciate it if they would leave us alone.”

“Don’t do that again. Do you hear me? They could have been crazy! I don’t want you to do that again.”

“I won’t.”

“I’m serious.”

Gavin put his hands on her hips and pulled her against him. “Do you w-want to dance?”

* * *

• • •

“Dance?” Thea scanned Gavin’s face for signs of another head wound. Had one of them hit him in the bathroom?

Uncertainty flashed across his face. “I thought maybe you w-w-wanted to.”

“I—”

“We don’t have to.”

He started to step back, but Thea covered his hands with her own. “I didn’t say that. We just, we’ve never danced before.”

“I know. It’s long overdue, don’t you think?”

Yes, but not much about their marriage was normal. They were doing a lot of things for the first time that most married couples did long before they got married and had children.

“I like dancing,” she finally said. Wait. No. What was she thinking? This wasn’t supposed to be a real date. She was supposed to be going through the motions. The washi tape and wine were scrambling her brain. She backed up.

“So do I,” Gavin said. He caught her hand with one of his and pulled her back. He curled their fingers together. “So should we?”

Thea looked around the dark loft. They were safe from prying eyes, and the band was playing a slow song.

Nervous butterflies took flight in her stomach as Gavin wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him. His other hand curled around hers, and he tucked them both against his heart. It was manly and gallant and sexy as hell, and that was before he began to move.

Which. Wow. He swayed with a natural rhythm that took her breath away. Of course, most athletes had good body control, but that didn’t mean they could actually dance. She’d seen enough dugout dance-offs to know that most baseball players left their skills on the field. But Gavin? Wow. Where’d he been hiding this?

“Do you regret not having a real w-wedding?” he asked after a moment of quiet swaying.

“We did have a real wedding.”

“You know what I mean. A big wedding.”

Her gut twisted. This was dangerous territory as far as conversations went. “Not really. Do you?”

“I didn’t used to, but now I think I’d like to have the memory of you walking down the aisle in a white dress.”

“It’s just a dress.”

“This isn’t just a dress.” His hand splayed across her back. Her heart raced. The flirting that had bothered her so much last week was giving her warm fluttery feelings tonight, and that was not good. She stared at his shoulder to avoid his eyes.

“What about a honeymoon?” he murmured.

“What about it?” This was definitely venturing into dangerous territory. Thea focused on her steps, her breathing.

“I regret not having one of those,” Gavin said playfully, rubbing the pad of his thumb suggestively across her low back.

Thea coughed. “Where would you have wanted to go?”

“Someplace warm where you could walk around in a bikini all day.”

Laughter bubbled up, unbidden. “I haven’t worn a bikini since the girls were born.”

“I know. It’s a source of great d-disappointment for me.”

They danced in silence for a beat, but then he spoke again. “If we’d had a w-wedding, w-would you have had your dad walk you down the aisle?”

Thea swallowed and closed her eyes. She didn’t want to think about that bastard right now. Not when she was all tangled up in other confusing emotions. And that kind of question was why she shouldn’t have opened the door to the conversation at all.