Page 43 of The Wedding Twist

“There’s nothing wrong with having a plan. That wasn’t what I meant. All I’m saying is that it seems to me like you don’t need to be panicking at this point. And”—he fixed her in his gaze—“I’m sure you knocked the interview out of the park.”

Celeste wasn’t feeling despondent anymore. With Jack’s soothing words, the steady, reassuring comfort of his solidness beside her, not only did she feel protected, but the wave of desire that washed over her erased any self-doubt and concern for anything too far in the future.

She was in the moment, so alive and present and turned on. Was it time to do something completely impulsive?

“Thank you,” she said quietly, her voice barely a whisper but filled with anticipation. She put her hand over his on the couch, a silent invitation hanging in the air between them. He took the invitation and leaned over, his lips covering hers. She kissed him, feeling his hands gently pulling her onto his lap.

Celeste melted into Jack’s embrace, savoring the warmth of his body against hers, his hands wandering to the small of her back, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them.

Their kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, hungry. When Jack started to trail kisses down her neck and along her collarbone, a soft moan escaped her lips. “I want you,” she whispered into his ear. He said nothing before scooping her up into his arms and carrying her to his room.

Chapter Fourteen

“Do you reallyhave to go?” Jack said, lacing a finger through the belt loop of the pants she’d just pulled on and tugging her slightly toward him. He was still lying back in bed, a place she would’ve been very happy to spend the rest of the day, but she’d already be way later getting back to the lodge than she’d said she’d be.

Celeste allowed him to pull her close, and she closed her eyes as he kissed her again, softly this time, a perfect bookend to all of the other incredible ways he’d touched her over the past hour, making her forget all about the disastrous interview, the worries and insecurities melting away under his focused, wanting attention.

She felt her willpower crumbling, until she saw her phone lighting up from inside her purse on the floor. She had to go. “I should have been back at the lodge hours ago. People are probably wondering if I drove off the road or something.”

Jack followed her out to the entrance, where she slipped on her shoes and her jacket. He had pulled on his jeans, but his shirt was still on the floor in his room. Seeing his broad, sculpted torso in the bright light of the living room made leaving feel all but impossible.

She turned to him before leaving. Jack circled her waist and pulled her against him, his hair ruffled and his gaze still filled with desire. She closed her eyes as he kissed the nape of her neck again ever so slowly. He knew how to get to her. “All right. Call me later.”

Call me later.Those three simple words. Not an expression of any kind of feeling, necessarily, but the kind of thing you said to someone when what was happening between you wasn’t a one-time event. Was Jack going to be more than a one-time event?

He was an amazing man, and she was falling for him.

She would call him later.

Jack walked her to her car and stood outside as she drove back to the highway, her entire body buzzing with satisfaction.

She slid her phone out of her purse to see who’d called minutes earlier. Her stomach dropped when she looked at her home screen and saw the notification for nine missed calls, all from the lodge.

Something terrible had happened. There were no texts and no voicemails.

Celeste dialed the lodge’s number, set the call to hands-free, and all but sped away from Jack’s house to the highway, her heart trying to escape her chest.

When no one picked up, she was tempted to hit the gas pedal harder, but this highway was always teeming with speed patrol. She took a deep, steadying breath.

She pulled into the lodge and ran up the back path and let herself in the door.

Her parents were both sitting at the kitchen island, looking unconcerned if only a little confused at how she’d burst through the door.

“What’s wrong?” she said.

“Nothing. What—”

“I wanted to ask where you’d left my purple sweater,” said Quinn from behind her. “What’s wrong with you?”

“You called me nine times!” she hissed.

“I really wanted to wear it to coffee with Jasmine. You said your appointment was over at ten.”

Celeste took a steadying breath. “Why didn’t you text? Or leave a message?”

“Jeez,” said Quinn, holding her hands up. “I’m sorry. I thought you were driving.”

She closed her eyes, willing herself not to bite off her sister’s head. What would Quinn say if she knew that only an hour ago, she’d been under the sheets at Jack’s house, thinking of anything but Quinn and her purple sweater?

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