Page 31 of The Wedding Twist

“You must be Jack,” the woman said. She deposited the tray onto the reception desk and extended her hand. “Jeannie McCarthy.”

Jack accepted the handshake. Celeste had her mother’s eyes—that was for sure. “Beautiful place you have here, Mrs. McCarthy,” he said. “And you make one hell of a biscotti.”

Jeannie smiled. “The guys haven’t stopped talking about the trip yesterday. You really saved us,” she said. “On behalf of my husband, who’s still up in bed under the weather, and myself, thank you so very much.” The woman was as elegant as she was friendly, and he could see how she’d managed to keep customers coming back for so many years.

“It’s my pleasure,” he said. He didn’t like lying through his teeth, but he couldn’t very well tell the truth.

“You’re also a real sport,” she said, taking Jack’s coat. She leaned in and lowered the volume of her voice. “Between you and me, I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Gotta keep your guests happy,” he said. “Celeste seems pretty great at that.”

“The best,” said Jeannie. “Let me take you to one of the rooms to change.” She led him down the hallway away from the reception desk, then motioned to an open door that had a number six on it. He assumed it was where the missing brother and groomsman was meant to have stayed. “Here’s the suit.” She led him to the closet, where a gray suit was hanging along with a white dress shirt and a burgundy tie. “I’ll leave you to it,” Jeannie said. “Everyone’s in the great room when you’re ready.”

She closed the door behind her. Alone in the room, Jack glanced around at his surroundings. The space was cozy and well decorated, with furniture that Jack could tell was of fine quality. He approached the window to take in the view of Butterfly Lake. The water was calm, reflecting the last of the afternoon light. It was a nice day for a wedding, he had to admit.

He shrugged off his sweater and folded his jeans on the bed, then buttoned up the dress shirt and pulled on the suit pants and jacket. This might have been the most ridiculous thing he’d ever done. He felt a flash of annoyance with himself, letting himself get convinced to do something like this. It was like Christine all over again.

But at the same time, it was different. With Christine, it was always about her. Her career, her whims, her goals. Her happiness, over his, every time.

And with Celeste, it seemed like everything she did was to make things work for other people, to make others happy. It was the whole point of her work. He softened a little, thinking of the expression in her eyes when she’d told him she might’ve been losing her job.

She might’ve been making him a sucker again. But here he was, and he’d agreed to play along.

He buttoned the cuffs of the shirt, slid on the blazer, then moved to the bathroom to examine the fit in the mirror. Not bad. Kevin was an inch or two taller and Jack’s shoulders were ever-so-slightly broader, but aside from that, the suit fit pretty well. It was quality fabric. If Jack were to buy another suit, he’d like one like this.

Celeste had seemed horrified that he didn’t own a suit of his own. Something told him that being with a woman like her meant lots of occasions with a certain dress code. Exactly the type of events he did his best to avoid.

He tied the tie and straightened the collar as a knock sounded at the door.

“Coming,” he said, half expecting to find the bride, making sure he had a close enough shave or that his hair was styled appropriately, or maybe Kurt checking to see if he needed a flask of his own. He’d welcome that, actually.

When he swung the door open, he found Celeste, wearing black pants, a black blazer, high heels and holding her clipboard. She looked him up and down, a satisfied expression crossing her pretty features. “It’s perfect,” she said. “You clean up nicely.”

“You look great too,” he said. He loved her in a suit. Especially with the heels and her shiny hair begging to be touched.

“Just trying to blend into the background,” she said. Like she could ever blend in. “You’re invited to stay for dinner, by the way,” Celeste said.

The thought of spending more time with her at the reception stirred something within him, despite his initial plans to slip away after the photo shoot. “Will I sit with you?” he asked. He was wearing a suit to be in wedding photos. And now he was thinking of extending the torture by staying for awedding dinner?

“With the family,” she said. “But I’ll be there. I’m working, remember.”

“I’d prefer if you sat with me,” Jack said, his gaze locked with hers. “But as long as you’re there.”

The corners of Celeste’s lips turned up and her eyes sparkled. “I’d better get out there,” she said, her voice sending a bolt of electricity down his spine. “Here—let me fix your collar.”

Jack stood still as Celeste approached. As she tossed the clipboard aside and reached out to smooth his collar and lapel, he couldn’t help but inhale deeply, intoxicated by the scent of her shampoo that enveloped him like a tantalizing embrace. He smiled a little to himself, noting the way she bit her lower lip while concentrating. He liked being fussed over by Celeste and willed her not to take her hands off of him. He wanted more. He wanted those same hands all over him.

He’d get up and say a speech at this point, if she asked him to. Escort Grandma onto the dance floor. He’d even do the chicken dance.

She stepped back and nodded her approval. “I’ll see you in a few minutes?” He didn’t want her to leave. He wanted her to slam the door shut, lock it, and completely mess up his suit.

“Ready for my close-up,” he said, grinning. “And that suit is nice, but I can’t wait to see you in a pair of waders.”

Celeste rolled her eyes, a seductive smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she moved through the doorway, starting to pull the door closed behind her. “The things I do for my job.”

Chapter Eleven

As soon asshe reached the end of the hallway, Celeste took a deep, calming breath but couldn’t wipe the smile off her face, never mind ignore the body buzz summoned from being in Jack’s sphere, feeling the warmth of the skin on his neck as she’d adjusted the silky-smooth fabric of his collar, his eyes daring her to edge closer. She’d almost succumbed to the temptation and allowed herself to sink back into his arms, let his lips intertwine with hers. Her discipline deserved an award.

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