What I’m more shocked about is how I’m allowing myself to finally give in to a possible future of happiness with the one person I’ve yearned for my whole life but was always too afraid to take the chance with, knowing he’s never been a one-woman type of man.
Am I ready to jump in and open up my whole heart?
No, I don’t think I am.
Though, Iamready to give Jack a fighting chance.
A knock at the door startles me. “B, I want to call and check in on my sister and the girls. Meet in the lobby when you’re done, okay?” His voice is hesitant and unsure.
I hate that I did that.
He doesn’t sound like my strong, confident Jack, so I swing open the door and stand tall, shooting him a panty-dropping smile that I know he won’t mistake for anything else.
“Sounds good.” My lips stay curved as I tell him, “I’ll be down once I change out of my work clothes. Tell Sadie I’ll call her later.”
His eyes lower to my mouth, and I think he might kiss me again, but instead, he runs his thumb over my bottom lip with a soft caress. My breath hitches when the sparks ignite my core, and his gaze cuts to mine, desire burning deep in his eyes.
He takes a meaningful step toward the door. I can tell it’s taking all his might to hold back. “Meet you downstairs, B,” he rasps, then hightails it out of the room.
* * *
Exiting the lift into the pristine, marble-adorned lobby, I spot Jack, standing and talking to someone in the corner.
I take the opportunity to run my eyes over his tall, lean frame. I hadn’t noticed earlier that he had changed, too focused on our kiss.
He’s wearing dark jeans, hugging his bum in all the perfect ways. When Jack was younger, he played baseball, and I’ve heard through my American friends that they have the best behinds. Now I can concur.
He’s wearing the navy checkered blazer I gifted him for Christmas, with his light gray Brunello Cuccinelli loafers I bought him the year before.
Did he wear them for me or because he loves them… or both? The thought of it makes me excited that he enjoys what I’ve picked out for him.
Jack’s always been stylish without the help from others, so it’s a compliment if he appreciates the gifts I’ve picked for him.
I look down at my silk jumpsuit and new Chanel heels, realizing we’re both entirely overdressed for a cooking class, but it’s Paris, and I only packed the most stylish clothes I could find. I can only hope they have an extra-large apron to cover everything.
I walk out from behind the column to take in the rest of Jack. His dark, pushed-back, perfectly styled hair. The—
I stop abruptly when I see the wedding planner’s hand on Jack’s forearm.
Nicole laughs an exaggerated cackle at whatever he’s said, which doesn’t seem funny at all, considering his face is void of all emotion, and his dimples are nowhere ready to pop.
Jack seems uninterested, but jealousy still rears its ugly head at the thought of her touching him, and I absolutely hate this feeling. It’s only been thirty minutes since our kiss, and I’m already an insecure cow.
“For the third time, please get your hand off me, or I will remove it myself.”
Nicole giggles, thinking he’s joking, but I pause, stunned at the venomous tone I’ve never heard Jack use before.
He must sense me, because he snaps his arm away and turns swiftly in my direction. His worried green eyes catch mine, and I conjure up whatever I can to show him it’s okay, that I know he tried to get away.
He shoots me a small smile and holds out his hand. “There she is, my beautiful B.”
I stand tall and flip my hair over my shoulder, not letting this Nicole chick ruin my day.
“Hi, darling.” I grab Jack’s outreached hand, and he pulls me tight to his side, kissing my cheek.
“You’re together?” Nicole sneers, eyes narrowing.
He kisses me again and smiles. “We are.” This time, the dimples pop. “And we’re late for our cooking class, so if you’ll excuse us.”
