Page 12 of Get Lost

Chapter Five

The estate’s massive barn was lit up like Christmas; café string lights stretched across from side to side, lining the length of the building, and curtains of smaller, twinkling lights were draped at each entrance. It was a rehearsal dinner fit for a princess.

Kelsey stood back, watching the bride-to-be smile in the amber glow of the lights, and her chest swelled with satisfaction. She’d pulled it off. At least, so far. The wedding was tomorrow, and she had to pull that off too, obviously, but this moment she took to soak up the beauty of this place, a beauty she created.

She snapped a few pictures to send to her girlfriends, and a few more photos for Instagram. She’d have access to professional venue photos from the wedding photographer later, which she’d upload to the website, but she always liked to put her own spin on things, and share a little behind the scenes actions with her followers. Where social media was concerned, her followers seemed to like the little details from Kelsey’s perspective.

She opened Instagram to post one of the pictures, but an email popped up across the top of her phone screen.

From Alexander. Ha. Her lack of response had placed the ball back in her court. Smiling, she opened the email, then the smile fell from her face.

I’ll take your silence as confirmation.

Kelsey scoffed, then began furiously typing out a response:

My silence, Arroyo, is confirmation of nothing but the fact that I don’t care to—

“C’est un beau spectacle,” Jean-Luc said behind her.

Saved by the bell!Kelsey closed out of her email app before she could send a response because sending a response would be engaging with him and she definitely did not want to engage with Alexander Arroyo.

Jean-Luc, on the other hand, was someone she could definitelyengagewith.

He stepped closer, his body barely brushing hers. Just enough that she could feel his warmth, which meant she had to fight the urge to step backwards into him.

“Bonsoir, Kelsey.”

Whispered so closely, his words sent a shiver down her spine. She closed her eyes as she inhaled a deep breath, and before she could pull herself together enough to turn around, he took one step forward, eclipsing any space between them.

Kelsey gasped softly when his hard body lined up flush with hers. She no longer had to imagine what was hidden beneath that apron because it now pressed against her behind.

Firm. Thick.

Was he just walking around with that weapon ready to fire at any moment?

“Je veux que tu viennes essayer mon dessert,” he said, his voice low, sensual, the words—whatever they were—igniting heated desire throughout her body.

He definitely said something about dessert, and Kelsey wanted to be his.

This man was trouble with a capital T, and she needed to put some distance between them. She watched the wedding party laughing and talking, enjoying their evening, ignoring her completely while she allowed herself this shameful moment in the shadows with a very shameless chef.

Which was a good thing because when Jean-Luc snaked his hand around her waist and tugged her tighter against his body, and she realized that her temperature wasn’t the only thingrising, she was grateful for the shadows hiding the surprise on her face—and the lust likely blazing in her eyes.

“Come,” he said.

Yessir!

Then he released her and stepped back, allowing the cool night air to take the place of his rock-hard body, and Kelsey’s brain started working again. She pulled in a stuttered breath, then turned to face him. He was too near, too close for comfort. She started to turn away from him, but he slid his fingers around her wrist.

“Venir. Je veux que tu essayes mon dessert.” He led her away from the barn, and every thought in her mind was a mix betweenyes, pleaseandrun, girl, run!

They walked back to the main house and he pulled her into the kitchen, where the bright lights combined with the chaos of cooks and food preppers brought her back to the present and snapped her out of her lust-filled haze.

Well, mostly anyway.

Jean-Luc motioned toward the dessert cups spread out on the large kitchen island and Kelsey stepped toward them. He stood behind her as she surveyed the deliciousness before her. Two-dozen tiny cups were filled with creamy filling and topped with fresh fruit—kiwi, strawberries, mandarin orange segments, blueberries—and covered in a glaze that made the dessert shine like it was blown glass, not an edible indulgence. Gold flakes dusted each tiny tart, and a large chunk of dark chocolate stuck out of each sweet treat like the mast of a ship.

Speaking of masts…

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