Page 43 of Sweet and Salty

With that, I turn my back on him and head inside the reception hall to meet Laura.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Laura

Oh.My. God. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.

“Are you okay?” Frannie says quietly in my ear as we walk into the ceremony space. “You look like you just got railed in the coat closet.”

My neck aches like I have whiplash. “I kind of did.”

“Wait, what!” Frannie whisper-shrieks, momentarily knocking me deaf. She grabs my arm and steers me into an empty alcove. “Okay, spill. What happened?”

“I don’t know.” I place a hand on my chest to soothe my breathing, and the weight slows me down, bringing my temperature back somewhere below inferno level. “I got dressed and went outside to find Jesse when Chris cornered me.” Frannie sticks out her tongue at this. “He was being such an asshole too.” I was near tears, and now they threaten to come back. “Saying we should get back together. That I owed him money. That I should be grateful he wanted to be with me, that no one else would take on so much baggage, I’m too old—”

“Oh my god, he is theworst,” Frannie says through gritted teeth.

“I know. Right? And then Jesse swooped in. He wrapped his arm around me and started to kiss my neck and say all these sweet things. And then he put Chris down. Downhard. Like Mortal Kombat-level endage.” Feathers of desire flare through me again at the memory.

“Wow.” Frannie’s eyes widen. “Do you remember when Monroe Dryden was being such a dick to me in ninth grade and you totally told him off? You just got mama-beared. You got mama-bearedhard.”

“I think so.” And it felt good. Too good. My whole body is still covered in gooseflesh. Is this what it’s like to have someone looking out for me? It’s easier to get addicted to that than cherry lollipops.

Frannie elbows me in the ribs. “You know, you don’t have to stay. You could just take Jesse home and give him a thank-you bang.”

A laugh escapes me. “I’m not going to do that. I have to be here for the cake cutting. It’s part of my service. Daisy will kill me if I don’t stay.”

Frannie shrugs. “Have you talked to Daphne? She would one hundred percent have dragged him off, probably half-choking him with his tie, and screwed him in the backseat of her car.”

A vision flashes through my brain, winding me. Me astride Jesse in the back seat of my hatchback, my dress hanging off my shoulders, his tie around my wrists.

I shake off the thought. “It’s not going to happen. I’m not you or Daphne. I’ve never been good at the one-night stand thing.”

“You always told me that the only way to improve is practice.” Frannie’s gold and green eyes gleam with wicked delight.

“I—”

“Hey.” Jesse steps out from the hallway, and an immediate flush engulfs me. Frannie giggles. I hate my sister sometimes. “Are you feeling okay, Laura?”

“Yup, she’s right as rain,” Frannie replies for me, her tone one giant smack on my ass.

“Are you ready for the ceremony?” He glances between me and the hallway leading back to the main rooms. “I’m prepared to do my fake boyfriend escort duties. Especially with two such lovely ladies. Ms. Marshall?” He holds out his elbow, and I rise slowly, slipping my arm through his. Thank heavens he props me up, because otherwise I would have completely swooned into his embrace. His proximity is like imbibing three tequila shots in a row. He squeezes the fleshy part of my arm softly, and the gesture sends liquid pleasure straight to my core. “And Ms. Marshall? May I escort you as well?” He holds out his other arm, and Frannie swings into place on his other side.

“Such a gentleman,” she murmurs, all the while shooting mefuck him alreadyeyes. I keep my gaze straight ahead.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Laura

The restof the wedding passes in a blur, a haze of Jesse’s boundless, old school gentlemanly generosity. He slings his arm casually over the back of my chair, not touching me, but so close the air between us is electrified.

He charms everyone who stops by our table. He manages all the innuendo with honesty and humor. He refills my glass when it’s empty. When he goes up to the buffet, he brings back all the snacks I like. Mini soft pretzel sticks with beer cheese dip, lamb meatballs with a pomegranate-and-mint-yogurt dip, slices of roasted red peppers rolled around balls of oozy mozzarella. All these little gestures, but they feel momentous. This has always been my duty, keeping people fed and entertained, and now he lightens my load.

Besides, the food is amazing.

I stuff my mouth as full as I can to avoid simply kissing him every time he looks in my direction. Because that’s all I can think about. Jesse on top of me, Jesse’s hands all over my body, Jesse’s tongue in my mouth. My mind is a pornographic tornado ofthis man who does nothing more than keep my champagne flute filled. This horny toad has her mind deep in the gutter, and there is no coming up for air.

Daisy looks wonderful. She wears an ivory gown with a full skirt and lace overlay, and the one strap down her back is embroidered with butterflies and flower appliqués. Her new husband, Tanner Michaelson, is beyond smitten. He can’t stop holding her hand as they make their way around the reception area to greet everyone.

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