I’m still wallowing in the aftermath of ending my toxic relationship. Marriage is the last thing on my mind.

“Are you ready?” the DJ asks. All the guys shout their agreement. “On the count of three! One!”

“Carter better get it,” Stella grumbles.

“Two!”

“No way. It’ll be Mitch. He catches footballs for a freaking living,” Eleanor stresses.

“Three!”

The men are like ancient warriors battling it out on the dancefloor for that stupid scrap of lace and satin. I watch in horror as they all seem to tackle each other—save for the big burly guy who happens to be the only professional catcher out there. I’m guessing he didn’t want to hurt anyone since he’s a giant who could do permanent damage to the average man.

“Yes! I caught it!”

My eyes widen when I hear the familiar voice. See the familiar man standing in the center of the rest of them. I didn’t realize Isaac was so tall compared to the rest of the men here. And his shirt is clinging to his back and shoulders almost lovingly as he holds the garter above his head in one hand, grinning like he just won the heavyweight champion of the world.

I can’t help myself. I burst out laughing.

Of course he caught it. And he’s turning toward me with that triumphant smile. Our eyes meet and I slowly shake my head, still laughing. He nods toward the bouquet clutched in my hand, then tilts his head to the side, in the universal gesture that says, come here.

Without thought I walk toward him, my laughter dying as he heads for me too, so that we meet in the middle.

“You caught it,” I say, reaching out to touch the garter in his hand.

“I wanted to. Told the big guy I’d give him twenty bucks if he let me,” Isaac says, gesturing toward Mitch.

More laughter on my part. “You do realize he’s a professional.”

“A professional what?” Isaac frowns.

“Football player? For the Raiders? Mitchell Anderson. That name ringing any bells?” I ask him.

Isaac frowns. Turns so he can study Mitch for a moment before he returns his attention to me. “Well, shit. You’re right.”

“I know I’m right,” I say. “One of my friends is living with him in Las Vegas.”

“No way.” Isaac’s eyes widen the slightest bit.

“Yes.” I nod. “And I can’t believe you paid him $20 to get the garter.”

“I wanted us in photos together. They’re going to take them, you know.” He grabs hold of my free hand and pulls me close to him, his voice lowering. “We need to document this moment.”

“What moment?” I ask breathlessly. The dark look in his gaze fills me with longing.

Fills me with the need to fling myself at him and kiss him.

What in the world?

“You know. Our first date. Or blind date. Whatever you want to call it.” He smiles, lets go of my hand so he can skim his fingers across my cheek, making me shiver. “Someday we can look back on this photo and see it.”