Page 35 of The Wedding Twist

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The rest ofthe wedding unrolled with the characteristic clockwork perfection that the Butterfly Lake Lodge was renowned for. Shortly after eleven, after sparklers and a final dance, the bride and groom bid farewell to their guests to return to their suite. Celeste, Quinn, and Jeannie did a sweep of the great room to extinguish candles, pick up any remaining glassware, and offer one last round of refreshments to any guests who were still awake.

Of course, the guests were free to stay up as long as they wished, but Jeannie was more than ready for bed, and Celeste wouldn’t be far behind.

When she went to check on the puzzle room, she found Jack sitting in a leather chair, flipping through the pages of the Agatha Christie novel he’d pulled out the other day. He’d taken off his tie at a certain point and the top couple of buttons of his shirt were undone, and impossibly, he looked even more handsome than before.

He looked up when she entered, his eyes lighting with warmth. “My hands are clean,” he said. “I promise to return it in perfect condition.” He held up his hands as proof.

“We’re not too precious about it,” said Celeste. “Books are meant to be read.”

Jack’s lips turned up slightly. “Great work today,” he said. “You might have me changing my mind about weddings.”

She smiled back, keeping to the edge of the entrance as though getting too close to Jack would allow the superpowered magnet of attraction between them to remove any and all of her willpower. “I’m glad you had a good time.”

“Something tells me you’re going to have no problem at all finding a job if it doesn’t work out here,” he said, then tried to cover up a yawn. “The bed in that room looks pretty inviting right about now.” He stood up and placed the book back on the shelf.

“Get some sleep,” Celeste said. “And get ready for breakfast in the morning.”

“I’ll be up and out of here before you wake up, probably,” Jack said. “I’ve got to get home to walk Bodie.”

It was probably for the best that he was disappearing at the crack of dawn, as though he’d never been there, but a pang of disappointment hit her.

Celeste walked with Jack to his room. The hallway was empty, and the only sound was the din from the great room, where someone had gotten a game of gin rummy going. “Well, good night,” she said.

In the dim light of the hallway, Jack turned to face her. “’Night, Celeste,” he said.

She sensed hesitation in his voice. Was he waiting for her to do something?

“Good night, Jack,” she said again and made a move back toward the office.

Before she could leave, she felt his fingers interlock with hers, his hand tugging her toward him softly. She looked up to see his eyes burning with desire.

“I shouldn’t—” She stopped, her protest dying on her lips as she met his smoldering gaze. She took shallow breaths in, but she couldn’t move away.

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” Jack said, the low timbre of his voice making her quake. He moved his face closer to hers and spoke quietly into her ear. “I just needed to tell you how beautiful you looked tonight. And how impressive you are. That’s all.” He pulled away slightly and kissed her hand, and it was so smooth and gentlemanly she thought she might explode. She was melting into a puddle on the floor. “Good night, Celeste.”

“Wait,” she whispered. She drew in a sharp breath as her mouth parted slightly and felt his hand move to the nape of her neck, drawing her in closely as he kissed her softly. She closed her eyes, every gentle sweep of Jack’s lips awakening every nerve ending in a delicious thrill.

When the sound of chanting came from the great room, Celeste pulled back. “I’d better go see what’s going on,” she whispered between shallow breaths.

Jack’s eyes flickered with desire. “I can come—”

“It’s okay,” she said. “You get some sleep.” She needed him. Badly. But she also needed to think this through. “I’ll see you Monday, right?”

Jack swallowed, then nodded. “You bet. G’ night, Celeste.”

After his door clicked shut, she leaned up against the wall for a moment, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath in.

Monday was two days away. She’d finish this wedding, then take some time to think things through before falling into what felt like it could actually be something real.

Chapter Twelve

The morning foghad just about lifted, and the sun was starting to burn through the light hazy cloud cover overhead. The air was still, and the only sound down at the river was the gentle current rippling through the river rocks and the occasional burbling call of an American dipper, one of the only birds that stuck the course through the winter in the area.

It was the Monday after the wedding, and Jack had been sitting on a fallen-over log, waiting for the past twenty minutes for the rumble of Celeste’s Jeep down the path. In the meantime, he was enjoying the stillness and the warm coffee in his thermos.

When Celeste finally pulled into the small gravel lane toward the Bow River access, he stood up and went to greet her.

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