Page 83 of The Wedding Wrecker

“If I get too good at this, does it mean you’re going to stop holding my hand?”

“That’s the idea,” I said.

Emma, who had been looking perfectly proficient at that moment, suddenly stumbled and seemed unsure on her feet.

I gave her hand a tighter squeeze. “Suspicious.”

She looked up at me innocently, then nearly tripped again. “Whoops,” she said.

Just as the sun started to set and turn the sky orange, mood lights kicked on, illuminating the rink and the falling snow. Music kicked on and a DJ’s voice came over the speakers. “Alright, Wellington-Marshall wedding party! Let’s kick it up a few notches!”

“Was this your plan?” I asked Emma.

“Maybe,” she admitted. “But I wasn’t planning to be skating with a hot guy when this happened. I kind of imagined myself watching from the sidelines.”

“I’m glad you’re not,” I said, pulling her a little closer as we skated a lazy circle around the rink.

“Me too,” she said.

Upbeat music began to play, and I smiled as I took Emma’s hands and made a clumsy attempt at dancing that nearly sent us both crashing to the ice.

She laughed, letting me pull her close as the other couples on the ice enjoyed the music.

Eventually, the DJ put on some slow music, and Emma’s ankles were getting tired, so she was happy to stand near the center of the rink where we were out of everyone’s way. I took her hands in mine and held her close, wondering if it was just the snow falling through the darkening sky, the music, or something else that had me feeling so…different.

“What are you thinking about? You look like you’re somewhere far away,” she said, lifting her snow-dusted eyelashes to look up at me.

“I’m right here,” I said. “And I was thinking about how I’m tired of pretending.”

Her forehead creased. “We only have to keep up the act another two days to get to the wedding, James. I don’t want to cause drama and ruin this for Lily.”

“No,” I said. “I mean me. I’m tired of pretending I don’t want this thing between us to be real.”

She audibly gasped, breathing suddenly coming faster as her chest rose and fell against mine. “What do you mean?”

“That my feelings for you are real. Every bit of it. Fuck, Em. I spent the last three years kicking myself for screwing things up with you. Wondering. Wishing… And now you’re here. I’ll be damned if I let this thing end without coming clean this time. I want to be with you. I want to be around you. I want any bit of you that you’ll allow me to have. Andthatis the truth. If you don’t feel the same, it’s fine. But I wanted to?—”

“I feel the same,” she said, eyes wide, almost as if she was terrified. “I feel all of that. And I’ve been terrified every time I thought about this thing ending. I didn’t want it to. I wanted it to go on—to see what we could be together.”

My heart clenched. "You should know I’m damaged goods. I have trust issues like you wouldn’t believe, and it won’t?—"

She cut me off with a kiss.

The kiss was soft, sweet, almost hesitant. Like she was asking a question. I could feel flecks of cold snow on her lips melting instantly against my skin.

I answered by pulling her closer, deepening the kiss until she made that little sound in the back of her throat that drove me crazy.

When we finally broke apart, she rested her forehead against mine. "I'm sure."

"Even though I'm?—"

"A wedding wrecker? Yeah." She smiled. "I’m willing to see if we can work through a few minor, totally nothing-burger obstacles.”

I brushed hair from her face, memorizing the way she looked in that moment. "You know, the wedding fixer actually doesn’t sound as bad as it did at first.”

“No?” she asked. “I could see a world where a wedding fixer and a wedding planner could form a…partnership.”

The way she said the word was more than a little loaded with meaning.

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