Chapter Eight
T he drive back to the lodge was more civilized than Jack had anticipated it might be only a few hours earlier. The group was still lively and animated, but the jovial shouting had faded to indoor voices, curse words were no longer flowing as easy as the Bow River, and Jack was no longer worried that Celeste was going to have his neck.
He grinned to himself, picturing the fiery expression in her eyes and the way she pursed her glossy lips. She’d been so deliciously annoyed, he’d wanted to pick her up right there and kiss those lips, temper that annoyance, and distract her with another feeling. He longed to give her that other feeling.
“Cap!” called Jeff from the back seat. They’d started calling him Captain soon after they’d gotten back out on the water after lunch and had grilled him about his travels. They’d been enthralled with his stories of falling down a fifteen-foot waterfall in Brazil, and he’d had them in stitches when telling them about the time he’d camped out in the open air in the desert near Joshua Tree and woken up covered from head to toe with fire ants.
“Yes, my man,” said Jack, navigating into the Butterfly Lake Lodge parking lot.
“What are you doing now? Want to come in for the rehearsal dinner?”
Jack grimaced. There wasn’t much more he hated in the world than weddings or wedding-adjacent events. He hated dressing up. He hated sitting through syrupy-sweet speeches. He hated celebrating couples he knew were all wrong, who likely wouldn’t make it more than five years, and being forced to toast them over and over again throughout the course of the evening over rubbery chicken and limp vegetables.
Christine had convinced him that their wedding would be different—they’d have a simple ceremony in the Cascade Garden in Banff, then a casual dinner with close friends and family at Herbie’s, their favorite restaurant just outside of town with an outdoor patio overlooking the mountains.
He’d relented. He’d been wrapped around Christine’s little finger for most things. The woman was a practiced pouter and a master of manipulation. She’d left him in the dust anyway, before he’d even had the chance to buy her a ring. At least he could be thankful for that.
No way did he want to go to a wedding rehearsal dinner, especially for someone he’d only known for a matter of hours.
“Ah, no can do,” Jack said. “Thanks for the invitation, though. You sure picked a good spot to get married.” He brought the van to a stop in the spot right beside the lodge’s front steps, just as the front door opened and Celeste appeared, clipboard in hand again and the door open in the other to welcome back her guests. She’d changed again since she’d brought lunch, from her jeans and pullover back into the form-fitting gray knit dress she was wearing earlier that morning, her hair loose around her shoulders. It was a good thing he was wearing sunglasses and she couldn’t see his expression fixed like a powerful magnet on her stunning figure. She was a total knockout.
He gave her a quick wave through the windshield as the groom and his party started to unload from the van, thanking and praising him, promising to look him up next time they were in the area and to pass on the name of his company to friends.
He got out of the car. Uncle Jasper shook his hand, and Jeff clapped him on his shoulder. “Seriously Captain, we’d love to have you come tonight! If your plans change, come on by.” He looked up at Celeste. “No problem adding one more, right?”
She smiled. “Of course not.”
“This guy’s a legend,” said Kurt. He gave Jack another fist bump, then disappeared into the lodge, leaving Celeste and Jack alone on the porch.
“Wow,” she said. “Seems like you made quite the impression.”
“They were a fun group,” he said.
“Luckily not too much fun,” Celeste said. There was a pause, and Jack wondered if he needed to apologize again. “So, are you going to come?” she said. “For dinner?”
“I doubt he was serious,” he said. “And I’d be willing to bet that if I looked at that clipboard of yours, an extra guest might get in the way of some carefully crafted plans. Plus I don’t do weddings.”
“What, you don’t like good music, great food, and happiness?”
Was she trying to convince him to stay? “Ha,” he said. “I like all those things. But without the side of cheesiness and that wedding cake with the chewy, hard icing. What’s wrong with buttercream?”
“It’s called fondant. Also, clearly you’ve never been to a Butterfly Lake Lodge wedding,” Celeste said. “We do it right. Cream-cheese frosting all the way. And if we do buttercream, it’s Swiss meringue.”
He had no idea what she was talking about, but the way she said it gave him do doubt whatever kind of frosting it was would be as sweet as the lips that formed those words. “You’re making me hungry again,” Jack said. “If that lunch today was any indication of what’s coming their way, you’re going to have some happy wedding guests.”
“That’s the plan,” Celeste said. “You know, it might be considered good customer service to accept that invite.”
He raised an eyebrow. “That would really be going above and beyond.”
Celeste shrugged. “That’s what customer service is, isn’t it? Just saying.”
She was leaving the door wide open for him, and he was happy to walk right on through. “I don’t have a date,” Jack said. “Know any beautiful clipboard-toting brunettes in the area who might be free tonight?”
Celeste grinned, and he lapped up the playful expression in her emerald green eyes. “Tonight I might have my hands full.” She glanced at her watch. “I should probably go in.”
He was almost tempted to join her, but he knew what that might lead to. He might actually have a really good time. And he might be tempted to call her again to see if she wanted to have dinner somewhere just the two of them, somewhere dim and kind of quiet, where he could sit across from her for hours and talk about real things, not just the businesses they were running but the things they did after-hours. What made her tick. What she wanted in life. What made her feel good. All the things that would mean he was sliding right back into his old patterns.
They were standing close enough to touch and far enough away from the window that no one would be able to see them. Knowing they had a moment of privacy emboldened Jack to reach out and take Celeste’s hand in his. She didn’t pull away. “Well, maybe another time then,” he said.
Her chin tipped up slightly, and without thinking, he moved even closer, looking for the permission he needed to kiss her.
But it was Celeste who made the first move, and as soon as her soft lips met his and the flowery smell of her flooded over him, he was a goner. With one hand holding hers and the other moving to the small of her back, he moved his lips hungrily over Celeste’s, reveling in the sweet taste of her, the warm smoothness of her skin that brushed against his cheek, the feeling of her breath.
She pulled back slightly, her eyes heavy with desire, her chest rising and falling. “I need to get inside,” she whispered. She leaned in and kissed him again. He would take as much as she could get. When she pulled back a second time, she lay a hand on his chest, further stoking the flame of desire.
As much as it pained him to rip himself away from Celeste, she had a job to do, and it was best to make his way home before he slid any further down this tunnel. If there was any doubt that Celeste had the power to completely undo him, it had vanished under the power of kissing her.
“All right, well, I’d better hit the road,” Jack said, his voice hoarse. For a second, he reconsidered staying for dinner, just to get more time with Celeste, but not only did he know she was busy hosting, there was a nagging feeling in his chest that indulging in this flirtation was leading him in a direction he knew he couldn’t go.
Celeste nodded, and he detected a flash of disappointment in her expression. “Thanks again for everything today,” she said. “See you in class on Monday?”
Right. Class. He’d see her again on Monday and maybe around town, but this business of whatever was hanging thick in the air between them, it needed cooling off. “Last class,” Jack said. “We’re doing a Jock Scott. Pack your patience. It’s a tricky one.”
“Ohh,” said Celeste. “The moment I’ve been waiting for.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I’d better go,” she said, her voice all smoky and caramel. “Take care, Jack.”
“Good luck tonight and tomorrow,” he said, descending the steps back to his truck, the magnetic pull of her fighting to keep him from leaving. “Oh, and watch out for that Kurt character,” Jack said. “He seemed to have taken a liking to you. Wouldn’t shut up about it out on the water, actually.” He liked Kurt. But the idea of him making any kind of move on Celeste made him picture clocking the guy.
“Is that right?” said Celeste. “Well, don’t worry about me. I can hold my own.” Her sly smile just about made his knees buckle.
“I don’t doubt it,” said Jack, sliding into the driver’s seat of his van. He didn’t doubt it one bit. “G’ night, Celeste.”
*
A few minutes after midnight, Celeste dropped her clipboard onto the desk in the office. Her eyelids were heavy and her body buzzed with the exertion of the day, and she was considering just tumbling into bed in her dress with her makeup still on.
She was dying to sleep, but there was a good chance she’d be up, wide awake, with finally a moment to process what had happened on the porch earlier with Jack.
In the darkness of the office, she closed her eyes for a moment, recalling the involuntary reaction the moment he’d been close, close enough to see the dark flecks in his brown eyes, to hear his shallow breath and see the rise and fall of his chest. It wasn’t just his proximity that had stirred her senses. It was the certainty that he’d wanted exactly what she had, only she hadn’t hesitated. Kissing Jack hadn’t been a decision. It had been a fully instinctual urge, and when her lips had found his, that same drive had allowed her to silence any thought that she was making a mistake.
Each brush of Jack’s lips, coupled with the firmness of his hands as he’d pulled her close, had sent shivers tingling down her spine, and the rumbling grunt of pleasure that had escaped his mouth when she’d pulled back had been almost enough to make her ditch the rehearsal party and let them fend for themselves for the night.
The swiftness of the goodbye and the quick reentry to the bright lights of the lodge had made it seem like a dream. Kissing Jack had been surreal. And that image, burned in her brain, the feeling of him imprinted on her skin—no amount of exhaustion was going to keep that off her mind when she lay her head on the pillow.
She flicked the office light off. The lodge was quiet, and it seemed as though everyone was in bed, getting some sleep before what would be a big day.
The groom and his buddies had stayed up a little later than everyone else, playing poker in the great room, so Celeste went to check that there weren’t any glasses left behind, pillows astray, or books needing straightening.
Without turning on the light, she moved through the dim room to the cards table, which was lit up by moonlight, and picked up a beer bottle and two rocks glasses.
The sound of a gentle whimper made her start. “Hello?” Celeste said, scanning the room.
“Sorry,” came a quiet voice, barely audible from the puzzle room. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Celeste deposited the glasses back onto the table, then flicked on the standing Tiffany lamp beside the couch. Curled up in a big leather chair, in her hot-pink pajamas and fluffy slippers, was the bride, clutching a tissue, her deep brown eyes filled with tears.
“Kassie?” Celeste said. “Is everything okay?”
Kassie sniffed, then wiped her nose with the sleeve of her pajama shirt. “I’m okay. Just nervous,” she said. She rolled her big, lashy eyes, which filled again with tears. “I know—so pathetic, right?”
Celeste perched on the arm of the other armchair that was facing Kassie. “I don’t think that at all. Did something happen?” For a moment, a scene flashed in her mind of her having to tell the groom and the rest of the guests that the wedding was off. Canceling the catering. Figuring out what to do with over eight thousand dollars’ worth of anemones, dahlias and sweet pea.
This needed delicate handling, and Kassie didn’t seem like the type who needed too soft of a shoulder to cry on.
“No. I just…” She stopped and blew her nose, a far louder honk than Celeste had expected coming from such a slight person. Celeste scanned the room and retrieved another tissue box. “Thanks,” Kassie said, pulling five out and laying them neatly on her lap. “Jeff is perfect. I love him so much, and I know he loves me.”
Celeste waited. Jeff’s devotion clearly wasn’t the reason for Kassie’s tears.
“It’s just that my parents got divorced when I was little, and I saw what it did to them, and I just keep thinking—” She stopped again and dipped her head down, her shoulders shaking silently.
“You’re worried that even though things are great now, they won’t always be,” Celeste said quietly.
Kassie nodded.
“I get it,” Celeste said. She paused. “I think that no one can ever predict what will happen five years, ten years, fifty years down the line. But you’ve seen what can happen when a relationship isn’t properly tended to. And something tells me you’ll keep that in mind for your own marriage.”
“Yeah,” Kassie said. She wiped her nose with the tissue.
“I think it’s a leap of faith. And you’re making it with all the right intentions and with all your heart. It’s clear you really love Jeff. And I’ve seen how he looks at you.”
Kassie took a deep shaky breath. “He’s obsessed with me. Like, in a good way. I’m his queen.”
Celeste nodded vigorously. “You totally are. You’re his queen. And I think you two have many, many years of happiness ahead of you.”
A small smile spread across Kassie’s lips. “Thank you,” she said. “I think so too.”
“Now, no more crying,” Celeste said. “You don’t want puffy eyes tomorrow. But I’ll make sure we have some cucumber slices in the fridge just in case. Come on,” she said and extended her hand. Kassie allowed Celeste to pull her up, and before she could move, Kassie engulfed her in a surprisingly bone-breaking hug.
“Thank you again. I’m going to bed.” She picked up her tissues and straightened her pink silk robe.
“Just call if you need anything,” Celeste said. “Good night, Kassie.”
Kassie’s vulnerability had surprised her, but the woman truly was a queen, and she’d be perched high on her social media throne tomorrow—that was for sure.
Kassie disappeared upstairs, and Celeste cleared the tissues and glasses and bottle, sliced up some emergency cucumbers and placed them in a bowl in the fridge, then glanced at the clock in the kitchen—one o’clock.
Leap of faith?
She closed her eyes, remembering the sensation of Jack’s fingers tracing the sensitive skin at the back of her neck as he’d kissed her. He was a gorgeous man. And not only that but he was also a really good one too. Maybe she needed to take her own advice.