Page 92 of Kissing for Keeps
This. This was the goal of everything I and others have done for this wedding—to see Madi walking along puffy clouds of joy toward her heaven on earth. Somehow, even with the mistakes I made—one of them monumental—it happened.
I should have known I didn’t have the power to ruin her wedding. It was never about the centerpieces or the favors or the music. It certainly wasn’t about Jack or me. It’s always been about celebrating her and Rémy’s love.
My eyes stray to Jack because they have no self-control whatsoever, and my heart skips and gallops and stops all at once. With a navy suit that fits him like a glove, his hair brushed forward tidily, and a smile on his face, he’s more handsome than any man deserves to be.
I fiddle with my dress, wishing I knew what conversation I stumbled upon around the corner a few minutes ago. Even though Madi didn’t say it outright, I’m sure she asked him how he really feels about me. Not knowing his response is killing me softly.
I’m happy, though, too, because the way Madi and Jack look at each other as they reach their parting place at the end of the aisle tells me things are okay between them. And that’s a huge deal.
When Jack lifts Madi’s veil and kisses her on the cheek, I feel a third wave of pricking tears threatening. I’m a giant bottle of emotion today, folks. A walking, talking hormone cocktail.
Rémy takes Madi’s hand while Jack moves to stand in his place next to Jean-Paul and Vincent, clasping his hands in front of him as the officiant begins the ceremony.
I try to keep my focus on Madi and Rémy while he talks, but given how many times I’ve cried today, my hormones have taken control of my eyes, so they wander to Jack.
His gaze shifts to me. I’m used to him smiling in a moment like this, but he doesn’t this time. The way he looks at me has my blood running hot and my cheeks burning up.
The ceremony lasts twenty-five minutes, and with a showy kiss from Madi and Rémy, the guests clap and make their way for cocktail hour while the wedding party takes photos around the castle grounds.
The conspiratorial smile Jack sends me when the photographer tells us to line up in front of the ruins almost undoes me. I have no doubt at all my cheeks will be cherry red in those photos. Lovely.
But that smile gives me hope that maybe something can happen between us.
Once the photographer excuses the wedding party and family members, I stick around to help with Madi’s dress and veil, only half-wishing I could go with Jack to ask him for a translation of the looks he’s been giving me.
By the time we finish photos, the reception is getting underway, and I rush to the cloisters, praying everything is as I left it late this morning. I’m relieved to see the caterers, dressed in all black, bustling around in preparation for dinner.
My brother Troy is on the stage with the sound equipment, and I scan the cloisters for any sign of Jack, but I can’t see him, which is saying something. I think I could spot him in a sold-out football stadium.
I walk over to Troy, who’s somehow bobbing his head of perfectly coiffed brown hair up and down to a string quartet.
“Where’s Jack?” I ask with as much nonchalance as possible.
He smiles at me in a way that says he doesn’t buy my casualness for a second. “You tellme.”
I wait until he stops looking at me like he’s the cleverest boy in the world.
“I’m not sure where he went,” Troy finally says, bobbing his head again. “He just said he’d be back in half an hour.”
I sigh. It’s not looking like I’ll have the opportunity to talk with him about things today. That’s probably for the best. It’s Madi’s day, after all. You can’treallydie from suspense, right?
The guests filter in from cocktail hour, taking their seats at the round tables. After the heat of the summer day outside, the cool cloisters are welcome.
The head caterer approaches, and I leave Troy to his classical jam session so I can iron out a couple of last-minute details with the food.
“Whaaat?”
I glance over at Troy’s exclamation and follow his gaze to the doorway, my eyes widening at the sight of someone walking in, guitar case in hand.
It takes me a second to register and really believe my eyes. Austin catches sight of me and smiles. His time on tour has changed him. He’s always been handsome, with his dark hair and blue eyes, but now he looks… more put together or something? Like someone taught him how to dress and do his hair.
I run over and hug him because I haven’t seen him in months, and he bear hugs me the way only brothers can do.
“What are you doing here?” I say. “I thought you couldn’t come.”
“I couldn’t,” he says, setting down his guitar awkwardly before hugging me back. “Jack made it happen.”
I pull away. “What?”
