Page 17 of Messy Match

Chapter eleven

Charlotte

Itrytofocusonthe twinkling fairy lights strung across the rafters of the rustic reception hall. Or the rich pine scent of the mountain lodge mixing with the aroma of the beautiful bouquets from White Glove that dot the tables. Anything other than the tall, broad-shouldered figure leaned against the bar across the room. But my gaze keeps betraying me, skipping to Jake in a perfectly tailored slate-gray suit, sipping amber whiskey as he tracks my every move.

The ceremony was perfect. The setting picturesque. Libby was radiant, and Brock more emotional than I’ve seen him in years. I managed to avoid direct contact with Jake by sticking close to Maya and Zoe, but now that the DJ’s voice echoes through the hall, announcing the first dance, my stomach clenches.

“Let’s have the wedding party join our newlyweds on the dance floor!”

Maya’s hand squeezes mine.

“I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time,” she says, as Mack beelines toward us, his intense gaze pinned on her.

Zoe glides toward Levi with a smile, leaving me alone at the edge of the dance floor. I spin to look for my mom, or Robert, or anyone with whom I can strike up a conversation and hope my absence won’t be noticed.

“Looks like we’re the only ones left,” Jake’s deep voice rumbles behind me, sending an electric current racing down my spine.

When I turn to face him, the sight of his extended hand makes my mouth go dry. “We don’t have to—”

“We’re in the wedding party,” he says, a muscle in his chin twitching beneath the golden glow of the chandeliers. “Don’t make me drag you out there.”

I place a hand on my hip. “I’d like to see you try.”

His eyebrow hitches before a slow smile spreads across his face. The same one that stared back at me for weeks from the charity calendar Amber taped to the coffeeshop bulletin board, tormenting me until I took it down. “Is that a challenge?”

Rather than press the issue, I surrender and place my hand in his. Surely, one dance won’t hurt. I’ll play the part of a happy bridesmaid then be done with it. But when his warm, calloused fingers close around mine, a jolt of awareness travels up my arm, and the memory of those hands on my body in the shower last night sends heat rushing to my cheeks.

The song is a blur as Jake leads me to the middle of the dance floor, where the other couples are already moving to the music. His palm settles at the small of my back, drawing me close enough that his heat seeps through the delicate fabric of my bridesmaid dress. My hands rest on his shoulders, and I’m careful to keep an appropriate few inches of space between us.

“You look beautiful tonight.” His gaze drops to where the dusty rose satin drapes across my collarbone.

I swallow hard, fixing my eyes on his silver tie. “You clean up pretty well yourself.”

He chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest. “A genuine compliment? The world must be ending.”

Despite myself, I smile. “Don’t get used to it. The truce ends tomorrow.”

It has to. I can’t handle the way this version of us makes me feel.

His hand tightens almost imperceptibly at my waist. “About that…”

Before he can continue, I feel the weight of attention on us. I glance around to find Mack and Maya swaying nearby, so intent on each other a hurricane wouldn’t distract them. Same with Levi and Zoe. The newlyweds are lost in their own world on the other side of the floor, but my mom stands with Robert by the cake table, her knowing gaze fixed on Jake and me.

“We have an audience,” I whisper.

“We’ve had an audience for two years,” Jake replies, his voice low. “And now, we’ve actually given them something to talk about.” He pulls me flush against him, eliminating the careful distance I’ve maintained. My body betrays me instantly, melting against the solid wall of his chest as though I was made from a mold of it. His heartbeat thunders under my palm, matching the frantic pace of my own.

“Jake—”

“Come outside with me,” he says, his breath warm against my ear. “Please. We need to talk.”

The desperate hitch in his voice makes me pull back to study his face. All traces of his easy smile are gone, replaced by an intensity that sends my stomach flipflopping. I nod, not trusting myself to speak, and let him guide me off the dance floor before the song has ended.

“Wait,” I say, catching sight of the wedding planner standing near the DJ. “Don’t you have to give your speech? They’ll be doing the toasts soon.”

“I don’t care.” Jake’s fingers tighten around mine. “I’ve spent two years waiting for the right moment with you.” His eyes lock onto mine with fierce determination. “Please. I can’t wait another minute.”

The raw urgency in his voice silences any further protest. It’s past time to explain. To confess what I only just realized this weekend.

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