Page 55 of Kissing for Keeps
“Really, Jack. We can’t do this. The last thing I want is for Madi’s wedding to be ruined because of some dumb, impulsive decision.”
Ouch. That one hurts. Kissing her may have seemed impulsive in the moment, but the second we started, I knew I’d been wanting to do just that for the past seven years. Why in the world did I wait so long?
“This is Madi’s wedding we’re talking about,” she says. “We can’t be causing problems like this. It’s not fair to her.”
Oh. Right. That’s why. I’ve spent the last seven yearsnotkissing her because of Madi. Or because of myself and the choices I’ve made in the past.
Yet, as I glance at Siena beside me, it also seems unfair not to kiss her ever again. I like Siena. A lot. It’s not just the kissing I like, though, and acknowledging that to myself is both exciting and scary.
But right now, Siena needs to be reassured all her hard work on the wedding isn’t ruined.
“Hey,” I say, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder as she brushes the greenery aside and passes under the archway. “It’s okay. It’s not a big deal.”
She turns toward me, but I can’t read her expression. “Right. Not a big deal. We both just got caught up in the magic of the place.”
“Exactly,” I say. “It could’ve happened to anyone.” I mean, it’s notexactlyright, but we can get into the nitty-gritty later when she’s not so stressed.
She swallows. “Let’s just forget it happened.”
I open my mouth to saynot likely, but I think better of it.
When we get to the cottage, the bags and ribbons and boxes offoie grasare an unwelcome reminder of all the work we have in front of us. But rather than sitting down and getting to it like I expected, Siena disappears into her room, telling me not to worry about the favors and she’ll finish them later.
I hear the unzipping of a suitcase, and I assume she’s changing her wet clothes for dry ones. I grab some of my own and head for the shower. Maybe a deluge of freezing water will help cool my feelings. Then I can help with the favors without obsessing over whether or not I’ll get to kiss Siena again.
Once I’m rinsed off and in my sweats, I head to the table, but she’s not there. Eager to be helpful, I get started on my own, hoping when she comes out, it’ll reassure her even more that she’s got help and things aren’t ruined forever.
But she doesn’t come out of her room.
It’s almost two when I crawl into bed, the favors finished and my eyes drooping with fatigue. Despite that, it’s a while before I can fall asleep. Every time I close my eyes, I’m kissing Siena or hearing the words, “We both just got caught up in the magic of this place.”
Is she right about that?Wasit just a dumb, impulsive decision?
Not for me, it wasn’t. And if Siena meant what she said about thinking a lot about that night seven years ago, doesn’t that mean it wasn’t impulsive for her, either?
Maybe thedumbpart is the real problem. I can definitely see the argument for that descriptor, even if I don’t like it.
When I wake in the morning, it takes a few minutes to find my phone and see that it’s 9:30.
I curse and hurry to put on a shirt, listening for any sound of Siena in the cottage. But she’s not in the living area when I come out. The door to her room is open, and she’s not in there either.
Maybe Philippe kidnapped her while I was asleep and has locked her in one of his towers. If I’m going to rescue her, we’re going to need those hair extensions.
I open the front door to check for the van, but it’s nowhere in sight. She must have left.
I rub my forehead and look around the room. My gaze lands on a note at the edge of the table, and I hurry over to it.
Jack,
Thank you so much for finishing the favors. You really didn’t have to do that. I was so tired after I changed. I figured I’d finish them in the morning.
I’m getting some things done on my list. I’ll be back before Madi and Rémy arrive.
Siena
She doesn’t tell me specifically where she is. She’s avoiding me, and I’m not sure whether it’s because she regrets kissing me or because she feels like she makes poor decisions when I’m around. Maybe those are the same thing.
Sighing, I sit at the table and pull out my phone. I debate sending a text to her to ask if she could use any help. I don’t want to suffocate her, though, so instead I search for the number of the chateau I told her I’d call this morning about the bachelor party.
