Page 6 of The Wedding Twist

Jack glanced quickly at her phone. “Not sure. Maybe you signed up for the wrong class. You’re welcome to stick around. But I have nothing to do with scheduling, and the office is closed for the day, so…”

“But I need to learn about OTAs.” Celeste’s eyes, which had been flashing with annoyance, now betrayed the slightest bit of desperation. Jack found himself wishing he knew anything about OTAs so he could do this beautiful woman a favor or at least move on with his class.

“I’m sorry. Not sure I can help you there,” he said. He’d do pretty much anything else she asked, though.

Celeste sighed. “My sister registered me. She must have made a mistake. And my other sister dropped me off. She has my car, and she’s at knitting club now, so I can’t leave anyway.” She looked up at him and then pursed her lips in a tight smile. “Sorry for the life story. I’ll just sit.”

Was this how all first days of class went? Best-laid plans, blown over by erroneously enrolled, incredibly attractive women? He waited for a moment as she returned her supplies to her backpack, then tentatively joined the rest of the group, who acknowledged her with polite nods and murmured greetings. Celeste flipped her hair over her shoulder and flashed him a quick smile.

His throat grew tight. “All right, then. Take two.” Jack picked up a hook from the desk in front of him and held it up for the group. “Let’s start with this: size-five Alex Jackson Steelhead Iron,” he said. “You can use a Gamakatsu, Daiichi, or TMC, but I personally prefer this brand. Sizes go from two to six, but for our first attempt we’ll stick to something on the larger size, since it’s easier to handle.”

“Why not go with the six, then?” Celeste said. “Since we’re beginners?”

Jack stared at Celeste, while the son in the father/son combo shot her a look. “They were sold out.”

Celeste raised an eyebrow, a light challenge mixed with a note ofI know I’m getting a rise out of you, and Jack was torn between showing her the door and asking for her number. Beautiful, outspoken, and just a little bit needy—in another life, she was just the kind of woman he’d have pursued relentlessly. Judging from the spark that he felt after only minutes of interaction, he was sure it wouldn’t have been a challenging proposition. But that was another life. In this one, there was no space for a heartbreaker like C. McCarthy.

Despite the electric charge in the air, Jack was somehow able to focus back on the task at hand and proceeded to show the group some basics about weaving the threads around the hook and how to securely attach a feather. After thirty minutes, each member of the class had figured out a basic fly. Even Celeste, who managed to make the tidiest one of the group. “My sister would love this,” she said to Jack as he inspected her tie, which she held up between two glossy painted-pink fingernails. “She’s obsessed with old-timey things.”

“Old timey, huh?” he said. “I prefer the termtimeless. It’s endured because it works.” Celeste didn’t reply, and Jack watched as she intently fixed a blue feather to finish off her creation.

“You could catch a nice trout with that fly,” he said. “Very tidy. Expert construction.” He wasn’t lying.

Celeste scrunched her nose. “I’m not really into fishing. Much to my father’s disappointment.”

“He’s a fisherman?”

“He’s an everything outdoorsman. The nature bug skipped me. My sister’s a biology professor and researcher, though. And my other two sisters like being outside. So, he always had someone to drag out in the heat or rain or snow. I’m the disappointing indoorsy daughter.”

Jack noted her makeup and her smooth, fair skin. It didn’t surprise him that she didn’t spend too much time outside.

“Well, it would be a shame for that to go to waste,” he said, motioning toward her completed tie. “You should come on down to the river tomorrow and give it a go.” He saw a glint in her eye before he looked over to the rest of the group. “That goes for everyone,” he said. “I take groups out on the Bow near the bend at Castle Rock, Tuesdays through Saturdays. As my students, I’ll give you the family-and-friends rate.”

Nothing wrong with trying to drum up a little extra business through his class. God knows he needed it. Bookings for the spring were dismal, and in the last couple of years, competition in the area had increased exponentially. Teaching this class wasn’t going to save his business, but it would help fill in a bit of a gap in revenue for the time being.

“Thanks for the invite. But I’ll be working,” Celeste said.

He hadn’t expected her to take him up on the offer, so he wasn’t sure why he felt a pang of disappointment. “What’s work for you?”

“I manage the Butterfly Lake Lodge, just outside of Keystone Ridge,” she said.

“I’ve heard of it.” The lodge had a reputation for being elegant and romantic. Not really the type of establishment his clients stayed when they came to town for his expeditions. But he could definitely picture Celeste fitting in at a place like that.

He gave the class a sneak peek of the fly they’d be making next week, then gave them some instructions for packing their kits, which they could take home with them and bring back next week.

It was gratifying to see the group progress under his instruction. And he’d be lying if he said that it hadn’t been fun to have Celeste around.

He bid the class good night, then Celeste approached him at the front of the class. “Thanks for putting up with me,” she said and held out her kit. “It wasn’t exactly how I pictured spending my evening, but at least if I ever get stranded in the middle of nowhere, I’ll know I can survive.”

Jack picked up a spare hook from his pile of resources and pressed it into her palm, her soft warmth sending a thrill dancing along his skin. “You’ll need this. Not too many of these in the wild. And keep that,” he said, motioning to her kit. “Maybe your sister will want to give it a go.”

She accepted the hook from his hand and grinned. “I’ll keep it in my pocket. And Quinn will love this. Good night, Jack.”

He suddenly realized that if Celeste dropped out, there might not be a class next week. “Wait,” he said. “Are you—Is there some way I could convince you to come back next week?” He could figure out a way to manage all the ways Celeste was undoing him if it meant he could keep his business afloat.

She turned around and looked at him quizzically. “Why?”

Jack’s mind raced. “Next week we’re making Jack Pines. It would make a great gift. For your dad. You can frame it.”Not bad.

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