Page 24 of The Wedding Twist

“Well, thanks for arranging that so last minute. He was a real lifesaver.”

Celeste couldn’t disagree with that. “I’ll go check and see if anyone needs anything in the great room,” she said.

As she moved between the kitchen and the great room, where the chatter and laughter was still alive and well, Celeste’s phone buzzed in her back pocket. “We’re heading back. See you soon. Everyone on best behavior,” read the message.

Celeste smiled to herself. “10-4,” she replied. She stopped in the bathroom next to the office to check her hair in case Jack decided to come in. She let out a sigh of both exasperation and something else—excitement? She didn’twantto want Jack to come in. She didn’t want to loiter near the door in case he was simply planning to drop off the group, then continue on with his day, so that she could pop her head out and thank him in person before he took off. But here she was.

She wanted it.

She wanted him.

Chapter Eight

The drive backto the lodge was more civilized than Jack had anticipated it might be only a few hours earlier. The group was still lively and animated, but the jovial shouting had faded to indoor voices, curse words were no longer flowing as easy as the Bow River, and Jack was no longer worried that Celeste was going to have his neck.

He grinned to himself, picturing the fiery expression in her eyes and the way she pursed her glossy lips. She’d been so deliciously annoyed, he’d wanted to pick her up right there and kiss those lips, temper that annoyance, and distract her with another feeling. He longed to give her that other feeling.

“Cap!” called Jeff from the back seat. They’d started calling him Captain soon after they’d gotten back out on the water after lunch and had grilled him about his travels. They’d been enthralled with his stories of falling down a fifteen-foot waterfall in Brazil, and he’d had them in stitches when telling them about the time he’d camped out in the open air in the desert near Joshua Tree and woken up covered from head to toe with fire ants.

“Yes, my man,” said Jack, navigating into the Butterfly Lake Lodge parking lot.

“What are you doing now? Want to come in for the rehearsal dinner?”

Jack grimaced. There wasn’t much more he hated in the world than weddings or wedding-adjacent events. He hated dressing up. He hated sitting through syrupy-sweet speeches. He hated celebrating couples he knew were all wrong, who likely wouldn’t make it more than five years, and being forced to toast them over and over again throughout the course of the evening over rubbery chicken and limp vegetables.

Christine had convinced him that their wedding would be different—they’d have a simple ceremony in the Cascade Garden in Banff, then a casual dinner with close friends and family at Herbie’s, their favorite restaurant just outside of town with an outdoor patio overlooking the mountains.

He’d relented. He’d been wrapped around Christine’s little finger for most things. The woman was a practiced pouter and a master of manipulation. She’d left him in the dust anyway, before he’d even had the chance to buy her a ring. At least he could be thankful for that.

No way did he want to go to a wedding rehearsal dinner, especially for someone he’d only known for a matter of hours.

“Ah, no can do,” Jack said. “Thanks for the invitation, though. You sure picked a good spot to get married.” He brought the van to a stop in the spot right beside the lodge’s front steps, just as the front door opened and Celeste appeared, clipboard in hand again and the door open in the other to welcome back her guests. She’d changed again since she’d brought lunch, from her jeans and pullover back into the form-fitting gray knit dress she was wearing earlier that morning, her hair loose around her shoulders. It was a good thing he was wearing sunglasses and she couldn’t see his expression fixed like a powerful magnet on her stunning figure. She was a total knockout.

He gave her a quick wave through the windshield as the groom and his party started to unload from the van, thanking and praising him, promising to look him up next time they were in the area and to pass on the name of his company to friends.

He got out of the car. Uncle Jasper shook his hand, and Jeff clapped him on his shoulder. “Seriously Captain, we’d love to have you come tonight! If your plans change, come on by.” He looked up at Celeste. “No problem adding one more, right?”

She smiled. “Of course not.”

“This guy’s a legend,” said Kurt. He gave Jack another fist bump, then disappeared into the lodge, leaving Celeste and Jack alone on the porch.

“Wow,” she said. “Seems like you made quite the impression.”

“They were a fun group,” he said.

“Luckily not too much fun,” Celeste said. There was a pause, and Jack wondered if he needed to apologize again. “So, are you going to come?” she said. “For dinner?”

“I doubt he was serious,” he said. “And I’d be willing to bet that if I looked at that clipboard of yours, an extra guest might get in the way of some carefully crafted plans. Plus I don’t do weddings.”

“What, you don’t like good music, great food, and happiness?”

Was she trying to convince him to stay? “Ha,” he said. “I like all those things. But without the side of cheesiness and that wedding cake with the chewy, hard icing. What’s wrong with buttercream?”

“It’s called fondant. Also, clearly you’ve never been to a Butterfly Lake Lodge wedding,” Celeste said. “We do it right. Cream-cheese frosting all the way. And if we do buttercream, it’s Swiss meringue.”

He had no idea what she was talking about, but the way she said it gave him do doubt whatever kind of frosting it was would be as sweet as the lips that formed those words. “You’re making me hungry again,” Jack said. “If that lunch today was any indication of what’s coming their way, you’re going to have some happy wedding guests.”

“That’s the plan,” Celeste said. “You know, it might be considered good customer service to accept that invite.”

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