Page 71 of A Heart Worth Finding
Jessica stilled a beat, then burst out laughing. “You’re right! He did it first, and so did Sofia, so now we don’t have to look like the bad guys when we walk in there together.”
“Trust me, Jess,” he said, lifting her chilled hand to his mouth and kissing the back of it, “when we walk in there and people see how I look at you, they won’t even remember Silas’s name.”
Jack chuckled when Jessica shivered, and he was certain it had nothing to do with the cold.
For the first time, Jack and Jessica were in public together outside of the Mexico bubble, and Jack was basking in it. Simply having her near, and knowing that, while they still had some things to talk about and work through, he could hold her hand or wrap her in a hug or plant a kiss to the top of her head whenever he wanted had him absolutely giddy.
The clock ticked closer to midnight, and he and Jessica seemed to have an unspoken agreement that their first kiss—again—wouldn’t happen until the clock struck twelve. They’d danced around it for the last hour and a half. He’d press his lips to her cheek, dangerously close to the corner of her mouth. She’d pull his head down when they swayed to the hip-hop pouring out of the speakers, her mouth a breath away before she spun out of his arms.
Jack was practically bursting at the seams when someone shouted, “One minute!”
“C’mon!” Jessica said, grabbing his hand and pulling him off the dance floor. She swiped their coats as they ran by their table, and she tossed him his, only letting go of his hand long enough for them to pull them on.
Every bar patron made a mad dash outside, slipping and sliding across the snowy streets down to a nearby dock, where they fanned out, eyes turned expectantly to the sky over the water.
“What’s going on?” Jack asked when he and Jessica had staked their spot about halfway down the dock.
“Fireworks!” she said.
Somewhere down the line, someone began the countdown.
Ten.
Jack pulled Jessica to him, wrapping his arms around her waist. Hers went around his neck, her mittened fingers rubbing circles across his nape.
Nine.
“Jess,” he whispered.
Eight.
“Jack,” she said, just as quietly.
Seven.
He raised a hand and tipped her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes.
Six.
“We don’t have to do this, you know,” he told her, even though the words killed him. God, he wanted to so badly.
Five.
“I know,” she said, a slow smile unfurling on her face. “I want to.”
Four.
Jack’s arms tightened around her.
Three.
They leaned closer, heads angling in opposite directions.
Two.
A breath away now, her mouth was his for the taking.
One.
