The disappointed groan escaped her lips before she could stop it, and he smiled as she eagerly pulled his lips back to her.

***

Henrik still grinned like an idiot when he stepped out of the car. Honestly, she was too. She attempted to adjust her dress back into proper position. It was trickier than she thought. Henrik snorted next to her and tugged the edge of the fabric at her waist to help move it back into position. “Thanks,” she sighed.

He shrugged. “It was my fault. I warned you that I’m handsy.”

She looked at herself in the reflection of the blacked out car window, noting her own wild expression. Not to mention her hair. It was a train wreck. Henrik laughed behind her.

“It isn’t funny.” She desperately tried to tame the stray hairs.

“It is very funny, actually.” He wrapped his arms all the way around her, pulling her back into his chest. “I still can’t believe you thought I’d want those women, or any woman, when I have the opportunity to be here with you like this.”

She tried really hard not to smile. She turned around and faced him. The new Henrik really was impossible to deny. She held onto him, enjoying the moment.

“Your lips are swollen,” she pointed out, “and sparkly.”

“I really don’t care at this point.” He grinned proudly. “I’m done hiding.”

She looked at him longer, and then he sighed.

“Okay, that was a lie. I’m still scared of your brother. Wipe it off.”

Laughing hysterically, she cleaned his face. When she finished, he tucked her arm under his elbow, then turned her around to face the front door and the crowd that would surely be waiting. “You ready for this?” she asked. “A public display? It kind of makes it official.”

He tucked a stray hair behind her ear and smiled. “I’ve been ready.”

Chapter 22

 

 

HENRIK’S PERFECT DATE

They were late, and it was obvious. The auditorium overflowed with guests, all mingling against the dimly lighted backdrop of the stage. At least forty tables were arranged beneath the podium, double the number from last year, which to Henrik meant one thing. Double the number of people he’d be required to appease. Luckily, their arrival went relatively unnoticed as they snuck in, except by Sam, who stood at the edge of the bar by himself. He immediately walked over, a small smile on his lips.

“Good evening,” he announced, holding up a shot in greeting.

Sam didn’t look like himself. His normally unkempt hair was smooth and combed back, his tux flawless. A far cry from the messy-haired boy with mismatched socks he was accustomed to teasing in the locker room. “Good evening to you too,” he said, laughing. “You’re dressed to impress tonight. Where is your date?”

Sam shrugged. “Late.” He downed the shot.

“Wait a second. You’re telling me you didn’t even go pick her up?”

“I offered,” he grunted, “but—”

“You’re embarrassing him, Henrik,” Leila whispered, walking over to give Sam a quick hug. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“You too. I feel like I see you every day, as much as I hear about you.”

Leila turned and raised a curious brow toward him. “Oh, really?”

“Oh. I mean—” Sam stuttered, realizing his mistake, “—I hear about you from your brother.”

Henrik snorted. “Smooth, Sam. Real smooth.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, shaking his head, “I’m having a bad night.”

“It’s all right.” He smiled, putting his arm around Sam’s shoulder. “I’ll buy you another drink.”

An hour later, he was still at the bar with Leila and Sam. He was four drinks in, and swapping bad date stories with Sam, which had Leila in tears. The good kind of tears. “I’m sorry.” Leila almost spit out her ice water. “The girl actually asked you that on the first date?”

Sam nodded, shooting back the remainder of his drink. “Yep. Like I had nothing better to do than walk her dog while I waited for her to get ready.”

“I bet you did it too.” Henrik laughed, imagining the horrifying scenario. “You are way too nice to say no.”

“I did no such thing,” he defended himself, straightening his shoulders.

“Don’t lie, Sam. You totally walked that dog, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” he groaned. “It shit all over the sidewalk too. I didn’t even care.”

Leila covered her mouth, trying to compose herself. “Okay, you two have got to stop. I can’t handle any more.”

As if on cue, the music died down, and someone announced for everyone to find their tables. Sam looked around the room, his face falling. “Well, I guess I have officially been stood up.”

Henrik exchanged a look with Leila, and he knew their romantic evening was officially shot. “Don’t worry,” he told Sam, “after all the speeches, we’ll get you so drunk, you won’t remember her name.”

He found their table in the front corner, sitting with the highest donors. Austin sat at the table next to them, an empty chair at his side. “Where is your date?” he asked him, sinking down in the empty seat. “Don’t tell me you got stood up too?”

“What? No. Decided to go stag and see what’s here. I offered my extra ticket to Drew, but he said he had plans.”

“Plans,” he grumbled. “Probably out with his boyfriend he refuses to let me meet.”

Austin laughed. “Do you blame him? And who got stood up?”

“Sam. I promised him I’d get him good and drunk after this.”

“I got it covered,” Austin assured him. “You have fun with your date.”

He eyed his friend suspiciously. “You do remember that my date is your baby sister, right?”

“I figure I owe you one.” He smiled. “Just one, though. After tonight, you’re back on my shit list.”

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks a lot.”

Henrik joined Leila at their table, scooting his seat up close to hers so he could wrap his arm around her. She leaned into him, and he rested his chin on her shoulder like they’d done it a thousand times. “I feel bad for Sam,” she whispered. “He really looked upset.”

“Yeah, I know. Austin said he’d take care of him since he’s flying solo tonight.”

“Really? That doesn’t sound like my brother.”

He smiled against her cheek, closing his eyes. “Yeah, well, we’re all full of surprises lately.”

Soon their table filled with smiling donors, and dinner was served. What normally would have been just another night of work, comprised of forced conversations, now felt comfortable and easy with Leila by his side. He marveled at the way she glowed against the candlelight, her laughter rich and sincere. She was by far the hit of the table, and not only because she entertained the guests with embarrassing stories from his college career.

He couldn’t imagine the night going any better. After dinner, she held his hand as he led her around the room, making the necessary introductions and chatting with donors about the new changes to the youth hockey program the charity supported.

He introduced her to the director of the program, Chet Darrenger, an elderly man with thin, white hair. “The kids are looking forward to your visit next month,” Chet told him. “I really appreciate you taking time out of your schedule during such a hectic time of the season.”

“No problem,” Henrik assured him. “I look forward to it every year.”

“We are grateful for your dedication. We’ve benefited a lot from the Rylander family this year.”

He glanced at Leila before quirking his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know how we would have survived if not for your brother volunteering when Harold had his heart attack.”

His eye rounded at the news. “Wait. Drew’s volunteering? Since when?”

Chet involuntarily scratched his brow. “Well, Harold got sick back in September. Drew took over his two beginner and intermediate training classes in October. Surely, he told you?”