Page 97 of The Deal Breaker
A part of her was afraid of being hurt again, but if she didn’t take that chance, she might regret it for the rest of her life.
“OK, EC.” She lifted her chin. “Prove it.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Dash paced across the length of the restaurant’s dining area, wringing his hands and fighting nerves.
“Stop pacing,” Mason yelled as he helped Rachael add the finishing touches to the romantic table for two in the restaurant. “Everything will go perfectly because my beautiful wife is the best event planner in the Pacific Northwest.”
“Awww.” Rachael kissed her husband on the cheek. “Now put the knives in the correct position.”
Dash stopped. “Dude. Don’t mess this up for me.”
Mason grinned. “Iris will be so overwhelmed she won’t notice the knives, dude.”
“You need to fix them.” Rachael shot a you’re-going-to-mess-this-up-so-do-it look to her husband.
“On it,” Mason said.
Dash paced again. He flexed his fingers to see if that helped him relax.
“Relax.” Kieran carried a bottle of champagne to the kitchen where Tony and Janice were cooking the special seven-course dinner. “Things are going well between the two of you, right?”
“Yes.” After the night at the coffee shop at the beginning of March, they’d grown closer. Their relationship was better than he imagined, and that was saying a lot. It was now May, and though some might say it was a little quick, they’d known each other for fifteen years. Dash had been patient. But he was tired of waiting. He wanted to make more of Iris’s dreams come true. Especially since they were now his dreams, too.
Blaise laughed. “When I suggested a grand gesture, I had no idea you’d come up with this.”
Oh, no. Dash glanced around the restaurant. “Is it not enough?”
His friends laughed.
Leo adjusted Dash’s tie. “It’s perfect.”
Paige squeezed his arms. “You’ll blow Iris away.”
“You did good, Wonderkid,” Wes agreed.
Adam surveyed the dining area. “I don’t care what you guys said. We could have easily rigged up a fireworks show in here.”
“No,” everyone shouted.
Cambria sighed. “The only fireworks needed will be from kisses.”
Selah nodded. “And that won’t be a problem with these two.”
Laurel pushed Noelle’s stroller back and forth. “Real sparks would interfere with the cameras.”
Dash startled. “Cameras as in plural?”
“Trust the sole dad in the group.” Brett clapped Dash’s shoulder. “I’ve got them positioned so you’ll have multiple angles.”
Dash gulped. “Okay.”
At least he hoped it would be.
“T-minus two minutes,” Laurel announced. “Everyone except Dash in the kitchen.”
His friends filed past, giving him high fives or fist bumps.
