Kennedy St. George stepped up behind her cousin who stood in front of an ornate full-length mirror, staring at the big, white dress reflected there. “Hey, you coming? We can’t exactly have a wedding without the bride.”
Sabrina blinked rapidly until her eyes focused, until, Kennedy suspected, the tears receded. “How are you doing?” her cousin asked instead of answering the question.
“I should have known better,” Kennedy murmured. No point in pretending she didn’t know what the bride was asking. “There were hurricane warnings on my wedding day.”
“The weather is not an accurate predictor of happily ever after,” Sabrina gently chided. Kennedy pointedly looked at the window, which framed a gloriously beautiful, late spring day. Sabrina rolled her eyes.
“You and Cullen are perfect for each other,” Kennedy responded. “Jerry and I … weren’t.”
“We are hardly perfect for one another, although Cullen is the perfect guy.” She absently twisted the engagement ring on her finger, a dreamy smile on her lips.
Cullen was often gruff, swore like a sailor, and quite possibly did not own a razor. He was lousy at small talk and awkward at family functions. But he was loyal to a fault, adored Sabrina to the point of obsession, and if one liked scruffy guys, he was definitely handsome.
Sabrina laughed. “You don’t think so. I can tell. Which is okay, because he’s about to be my husband, not yours. What’s your version of the perfect guy?”
“No guy is perfect.”
“Fair enough, but what type of guy would make you happy?”
“Anyone besides Jerry.”
That earned her a stern look from Sabrina’s reflection in the mirror.
“Okay, okay,” Kennedy relented. “I’ll play your game. Let’s see … perfect guy …”
“Someone who doesn’t cheat.”
“That’s a given,” Kennedy pointed out, although she understood why her cousin mentioned it.
“What else?”
“This is hard.” She pondered the question. “I guess I’d like someone who proves he cares by his actions instead of just saying it all the time.”
“That’s reasonable.”
“And I’d like someone who has his own life, too. You know I work a lot of hours at the hospital, and I like what I do. I imagine I’d come to resent a guy who expects me to work a nine-to-five schedule just because it fits his needs.”
“Considering I’m marrying an FBI agent, and agents definitely don’t work regular hours, I get that. Anything else?”
“I’m not into going out on the town all the time, clubbing and such. So when we would get to spend time together, I’d want to do it at home, cooking together or watching a movie or, I don’t know, just hanging out—that’s my idea of a perfect evening.”
“So no party animals for you.”
“Nope. But he still has to be—” she cut herself off.
“Good in bed?” They shared a laugh. Sabrina abruptly sobered and said, “I think you should start dating again. In fact, Joey, one of the groomsmen, is single, and he’s really sweet. Good looking, too. I bet he fits at least some of your criteria.”
“Don’t even think about setting me up at your wedding.”
“Weddings are the perfect place to meet someone.”
“Weddings are the perfect place to meet a one-night stand, and if I’m not interested in dating, I’m sure as heck not interested in that.”
“Why not? Not about the one-night stand necessarily, but about dating at all?”
Sabrina’s earnestness invited an honest response. But Kennedy didn’t know how to respond. Five years ago, she’d married a man who’d swept her off her feet, who’d given her empty promises about rainbows and unicorns. Two years later, he’d stolen every last nickel and charged her credit cards to the max before disappearing out of her life.
The official story was that he’d cheated on her, so she’d demanded the divorce. That was humiliating enough, but she figured if everyone knew the truth—that he’d literally stolen everything while she’d been stupidly unaware—that would be ten times worse. Cheating was, unfortunately, a fact of life. It happened, you moved on, and you hoped to find someone new, someone who wouldn’t cheat. But your own husband leaving you with literally no recourse whatsoever? There was something far more … embarrassing about that, at least in Kennedy’s mind.
“How can I?” Kennedy asked, sticking with the lie she’d told everyone, even her cousin and best friend. “How can I trust someone again?”
Sabrina adjusted her veil and squeezed her fist around the white-with-blue-embroidery handkerchief in her hand. “You just do. I don’t know how to explain it. You just reach a point where you realize this man is the one, and you are going to put all of your trust in him because you are so in love you don’t really have a choice.”
“I did that with Jerry, remember?”
“Did you, really?” Kennedy averted her eyes. What her cousin implied was right. The hurricane on the day of her wedding hadn’t been the only warning sign. She had just been a fool and refused to pay attention.
“I won’t ever make that mistake again,” she vowed.
“Certainly not if you never date again.”
She smirked. “It’s safer that way.”
“Safe isn’t fun. Live a little. Enjoy yourself today. Dance with Joey. Flirt with him. See where it leads.” Before Kennedy could protest again, Sabrina turned away from the mirror and lifted the billowing, white skirt. “Now come on, I want to get married.”
Kennedy grabbed the train to make it easier for Sabrina to walk. I can’t take the chance, she thought as she followed her cousin out of the bride’s room.
• • •
They met the groomsmen in the lobby, just outside the chapel. Cullen’s brother, Marshall, was the best man, a less scruffy and slightly shorter version of the groom. When he saw the bride, he smiled widely and spread his arms as if he intended to hug her, but caught himself and squeezed her hand instead, murmuring that she was beautiful and Cullen was a hell of a lucky guy.
Cullen’s FBI agent partner, Jack Boudreaux, wasn’t nearly so couth. When he saw the bride, he gave a loud wolf whistle and pulled her into a bear hug, lifting her off her feet and causing her to squeal. Kennedy expected the bride’s uptight sister, Vanessa, to snap at him for crushing the bride’s dress, but she simpered instead.
Kennedy supposed she could understand. Cullen’s partner was an incredibly attractive man. Although Cullen and Sabrina had been dating for a year now, Kennedy hadn’t yet met his closest friend. Now that she was admiring him from only a few feet away, she was sort of glad she hadn’t. He was James Bond with thick, blond hair and a clean-shaven jawline, and he looked damn good in a tux.
Damn good.
It wasn’t like she hadn’t come across hot guys throughout the course of the last three years, so why was her heart racing? Why did she feel flushed? She forced herself not to fan her face, even as she worried that she was breaking out in a sweat and might ruin her makeup.
Not going there. Jerry had been good-looking, too, and look where that had gotten her.
He wasn’t this good-looking.
Kennedy wanted to tell her inner voice to shut the hell up. Besides, Joey was the groomsman Sabrina had suggested she get to know better. Sabrina had said precious little about Jack over the course of her and Cullen’s courtship, other than the occasional comment about him being a playboy. Which explained why she wouldn’t have suggested Kennedy break free of her self-induced, nun-like lifestyle with him. Another cheater wasn’t on the agenda.
“I was just informed that you and I are walking into the chapel together.”
Kennedy shifted her focus to the man who was speaking, the very man she had just been salivating over. “Uh, we are?”
He did that slow perusal thing with his eyes that guys did when they wanted a girl to know they liked what they saw. A slow smile curved his lips. “Yep.”
She recognized that look. She may have been out of the dating game for far too long, but she still understood the process. What she didn’t know was how to respond.
“No, no,” Vanessa interrupted, as she wedged herself between them. “You and I should walk down the aisle together.” She batted thickly mascaraed lashes and smiled coyly. Kennedy resisted the urge to stick her finger into her mouth in a gagging motion. They weren’t in high school anymore, even if Vanessa was acting like a lovesick teenager.
“Cullen told me he’ll kick my ass if I don’t do what the wedding planner tells me,” Jack commented. “And she said I’m supposed to walk in with the hot brunette.”
Hot brunette? Was he talking about her?
Vanessa brushed a perfectly coifed blond curl off her shoulder and lifted her chin. With an audible sniff, she said, “The pictures will look better if you and I are in them together.”
Jack arched his brows. “I could’ve sworn this wedding was about Cullen and Sabrina. Not you.”
Vanessa opened her mouth to retort, but the wedding planner grabbed her arm in a vise-like grip and dragged her away to stand alone at the end of the processional.
“Where’s the best man?” Kennedy asked, as she watched Vanessa argue with the wedding planner.
“Already inside with the groom. Cullen was looking a little panicked, so the priest suggested his brother be up there for moral support.”
“Oh no. He isn’t having second thoughts, is he?”
Jack chuckled. “Hell no. If he could’ve had his way, Cullen would’ve carted her off to Vegas a year ago. Sabrina wanted this dog and pony show, and he’s doing it because he loves her, but he hates being in the spotlight like this.” He abruptly changed the subject. “So Cullen tells me you’re the bride’s BFF.”
“Yes. We’re cousins as well.”
“How come stalker woman is the maid of honor?”
“You mean Vanessa? She’s Sabrina’s sister.” Kennedy giggled, taking herself by surprise. When was the last time she’d giggled in the presence of someone of the opposite sex who wasn’t related to her?
“She’s scary as hell. I haven’t been pursued like that in a long time.”
“Vanessa has been pursuing you?”
Jack nodded. “She practically attacked me as soon as I walked into the church. I’m not really into that. I’m into more subtle women.”
She ignored the last bit and blurted, “She’s married.”
Jack arched those sleek, blond brows again. “Now I’m really glad I didn’t let her catch me. I’m not into married women either.”
He gave Kennedy’s left hand a pointed look. She squeezed her bouquet until she was afraid she would snap the stems on the burgundy and cream-colored roses. She was so lousy at this game. Besides the fact she wasn’t even sure she wanted to play it in the first place.
“What about divorced women?” Oh my God, did I just say that out loud?
Jack shrugged. “I like single women. Divorced is single.”
Kennedy’s chest heaved as she sucked in air. “I’m not—” She lost her train of thought when he reached over, cupped her wrist, and pulled her arm through the crook of his, resting her hand on his forearm. Not only did he look amazing in the tux, but he felt good, too.
Not good.
“Showtime,” Jack murmured, and Kennedy realized that the doors to the chapel were open and the music started, indicating it was time for the processional to begin.
She struggled to fill her lungs. Jack gave her a concerned look. “You okay?”
Kennedy shook her head and focused on breathing. In and out. That’s it. This wasn’t her wedding. It was Sabrina’s, and Sabrina was marrying the man of her dreams. The right man. Her forever happily ever after.
“I just don’t like weddings as a rule.”
“Why not?”
“My own was a disaster.”
• • •
Jack watched Kennedy watch the bride. A slow, sad smile spread across her face as Sabrina began to make her way down the aisle. He turned his attention to the bride, too.
She looked like a frigging princess in that big, white gown. Her smile was so wide that he was half-afraid her face would split in two. He glanced at his partner and best friend. The deer-in-the-headlights look that had been on his face since early this morning was gone, replaced by adoration, as his eyes never left his almost-wife. Cullen was hooked, no doubt about it. Sabrina was, and now always would be, the center of his world.
Lucky bastard, Jack thought, even as he followed that thought with, I couldn’t imagine being so beholden to another person. It worked for Cullen—which was a hell of a surprise, frankly—but he knew marriage wasn’t for everyone.
Kennedy was married?
He shifted his gaze to watch the hot bridesmaid standing across the aisle, who was now watching the bride and groom with rapt attention. He’d missed that little tidbit of information somewhere along the way. She wasn’t wearing a ring. He’d noticed that because he’d been scoping out the various options for a little after-reception female companionship.
Weddings were a great place to pick up a one-night stand, but you had to be careful to pick a woman who didn’t have forever on her mind at the moment. The good thing was, the generous pours at the open bar tended to make almost anyone forget about forever, at least until the next morning. And Jack was good at slipping out of bed and out of their lives before they could even suggest exchanging phone numbers, let alone talk about a second—or hell, how about a first?—date.
He’d narrowed his focus to Kennedy, and had assumed she was single. While dodging the maid of honor, he’d caught sight of the willowy, brunette bridesmaid and his interest had immediately been piqued. He could tell she was one of those women who didn’t demand to be the center of attention, who was probably more of a wallflower. In his experience, women like that tended to be wildcats in the sack. Perfect for a temporary wedding pickup.
Whether she preferred to duck the spotlight or not, she was definitely sexy. Besides that thick, chestnut-brown hair that trailed halfway down her back, she had expressive, green, doe eyes set into a heart-shaped face, along with Cupid’s bow pink lips that caused his imagination to wander into seriously smutty places.
She wore the bridesmaid dress well, too. It was a simple number in a bronze color, with a halter neckline that emphasized the top swell of breasts that were neither too small nor too large. All things considered, his choice of a bed partner for the night hadn’t been difficult at all.
Except for the whole marriage bit. He wasn’t into married women, no matter how attractive they were. He’d hooked up with a handful of married women throughout his misspent youth, and each time had been a disaster—an emotional roller coaster for the women and mediocre sex for him. It was hard to get excited when a woman either cried or talked about another man constantly. In his experience, women who cheated didn’t really want to cheat; they just wanted their significant other to notice them.
The roar of applause, catcalls, and wolf whistles indicated that the ceremony was at an end, and Jack shifted his focus to watch the groom bend his bride over his arm and kiss her with such enthusiasm that the priest blushed.
• • •
Kennedy felt a pang of jealousy combined with regret as she watched her cousin and new husband make out on the altar. Five years previously, she’d received no more than a chaste peck on the cheek from her groom. Two years later, she’d sat in her living room and cried frustrated tears and thought, I should have known it wouldn’t last.
As Cullen and Sabrina posed for the photographer before proceeding down the aisle after being pronounced husband and wife, Kennedy tortured herself by comparing the ratio of couples to individuals in the church. She realized the number of married couples far outweighed the number of single people. Those couples were happy, too, as far as she could tell, which only added to her misery. Kennedy wanted to be happy.
She eyed her wedding counterpart. Jack was single, and he seemed happy. Maybe he knew something she didn’t.
“Stay away from him,” Sabrina had warned her a half dozen times. “The women love him, but he only wants one thing.”
Considering how just the simplest touch from Jack had spiked her blood pressure, she suspected it was not difficult at all for him to pick up women when he was in the mood for a little action.
Was that the key to happiness as a single person? Occasional one-night stands, with no other expectations? Jack looked, at the very least, content and comfortable in his own skin.
Kennedy certainly wasn’t happy, and neither did she feel comfortable in her own skin half the time. She tended to dress down, to hide herself, to try to avoid being noticed by the opposite sex. It was easier that way. Otherwise, she might have to be forced to address unwanted attentions from men like Jack.
They were unwanted, weren’t they?
Since her divorce three years ago, Kennedy had not dated at all. She was too afraid. She’d fallen for her lying ex-husband, let him talk her into moving from her comfort zone—her hometown of Dallas—to New Orleans, a town that was an entirely different world. She’d let him talk her into marrying him. And then he’d taken everything, including her pride, right from under her nose.
She glanced at Jack again, caught him watching her, and averted her eyes.
Kennedy’s experience with one-night stands was limited to two times in her entire life. There was that one time in college, when the guy had bet his friends that he could convince her to sleep with him. She thought he wanted to date her, wanted so much more, until the next morning when he laughed while he pulled his shorts over his thighs and said, “Thanks for that, Kennedy. I’m strapped for cash right now and that twenty bucks will sure come in handy.”
The other time had been a stupid mistake she’d made with the divorce attorney she’d hired when her ex stole all her money. So she probably shouldn’t be open to attempting another one-night stand.
Except that, honestly, wasn’t it different if she knew about it up front? If both parties had the same expectation? While the outcome had been humiliating, she could admit that the sex with the attorney had been good, at least while she’d been in the moment.
Maybe it had been good because it was a one-night stand.
She eyed Jack again. He certainly looked like he could please a woman in bed. Those big hands, with lean, nimble fingers. What would they feel like, caressing her breasts, sliding down her belly to the apex of her thighs?
Those full, slightly pouty lips trailing kisses along her throat, over her chest, suckling her nipples. His tongue darting out to tease her skin as he continued his downward path, until his lips were pressed against that part of her body that hadn’t felt the touch of a man’s lips in …
“Almost done,” Jack murmured, pulling her abruptly from the impromptu fantasy. His chocolate-brown eyes watched her from under hooded lids.
She turned her head slightly away. The man looked as if the rented tux had been made specifically for him, whereas Cullen looked faintly uncomfortable in the fancy duds.
Jack stepped in front of the altar and offered the crook of his arm. Kennedy slipped her hand through and let it rest lightly on his forearm as they both turned and posed for the photographer.
“Don’t be gentle, baby,” he teased, which caused a surprised giggle to burst from her mouth just as the camera clicked.
She lightly slapped his arm with her other hand. “You just ruined that picture,” she scolded as they walked down the aisle.
“By making you laugh? How do you figure?”
Kennedy shook her head as she kept a smile plastered onto her face in case someone was still taking pictures. “I don’t photograph well,” she explained. “Especially when I laugh.”
“That is one of the weirdest things I have ever heard,” he remarked, just as they reached the end of the procession and were tugged apart by the wedding planner.
After greeting the guests and promising to see them at the reception, then smiling for another multitude of pictures, it was finally time to pile into the limo. Since Vanessa was doing a lousy job of managing her maid of honor duties, Kennedy picked up the slack and herded everyone into the back seat before rushing into the church to ensure they hadn’t left anything behind in the bride’s room.
When she returned, the driver took the three bags she carried and placed them in the trunk, and then held the door open while Kennedy tried to duck into the back in a dress that wasn’t terribly accommodating to such activity.
The limo was full. “Oh,” Kennedy said. “I guess I’ll sit in front.”
“You can’t,” Sabrina said. “Cullen’s grandma is up there. She said she wanted to flirt with the driver.” She giggled as she lifted a half empty bottle of champagne and drank straight from the bottle. Cullen shook his head, looking faintly embarrassed by his grandmother’s actions. The driver cleared his throat, his eyes lifting to look at the almost cloudless sky.
“There’s plenty of room,” Jack announced, and before Kennedy could react, he slipped his arm around her waist and hauled her into his lap.
“No!” Kennedy struggled, twisting her body, pushing against Jack’s chest, trying to shift into a less compromising position, even as the door slammed shut and the rest of the crowd in the limo laughed.
Jack’s arms wrapped around her body, effectively trapping her arms against her sides and forcing her to sit still. “Relax,” he whispered next to her ear. “It’s a short ride to the reception, and you shouldn’t be left out just because you were helping the bride.”
Kennedy tried to force herself to relax. He hadn’t been hitting on her; he had only tried to help. Just because sitting in his lap elevated her own body temperature was no reason to assume the guy was a sleaze. Besides, twenty minutes ago she had been giving serious consideration to the idea of having a one-night stand with him.
As she became aware of the size of the erection pressing into her backside, her thoughts plummeted into the gutter. Guess she was back to considering shagging him, even if she knew damn well it would only happen once.
Jack loosened his hold, and then cupped her waist and adjusted her in his lap. “Sorry,” he murmured. “That was feeling a little too good.”
Cullen shoved his shoulder. “Lay off the bridesmaid, Jack.”
Hey, what’s the problem?” Jack teased. “We’re both consenting adults. If she wants to sit in my lap, she has every right to do so.”
“There wasn’t anywhere else to sit,” Kennedy protested, feeling the need to defend herself. “And you pulled me into your lap.”
“Aw, that hurt. Are you saying you would have been happy riding in any old lap that was handy?”
“No!”
Kennedy could relate to Cullen’s reluctance to being in the spotlight. She hated knowing everyone in the limo was watching her, was laughing at her obvious discomfort. Jack thought he was helping, but truthfully she would have preferred to have ridden to the reception by herself, even if it would have meant missing out on the feel of his muscular chest against her back, his impressive erection against her ass.
Damn, she was becoming a harlot in her own head. It really had been too long since she’d enjoyed skin-to-skin contact with a man.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered, her eyes closed, her body tense as she focused every bit of attention on the effort not to move.
“Don’t apologize,” Jack admonished. “I was just teasing you.”
They arrived at the reception site, and Kennedy bolted from the vehicle almost before it came to a complete stop. As she reached for the front door, she turned her head, glanced over her shoulder—and saw Jack, standing next to the limo, a contemplative expression on his face. Kennedy wondered why he appeared so pensive.
• • •
“It’s beautiful,” Sabrina declared as she and Cullen stepped into the ballroom, greeted by a round of applause and catcalls from their guests.
“You’re beautiful,” Cullen murmured, using the opportunity to nuzzle her ear. Sabrina giggled and did not push him away.
“Marriage seems to agree with Cullen,” Jack commented as he and Kennedy stood side by side, next to the head table, watching as the new bride and groom were introduced.
“Cullen agrees with Sabrina,” Kennedy responded.
“They’re good for each other. She brings out the best in him.”
“And he balances her.”
“Match made in heaven,” Jack said, his voice light with sarcasm.
Kennedy chuckled. “Hardly. They’re practically opposites. But they do prove the old adage that opposites attract.”
Cullen and Sabrina moved onto the dance floor as the band struck up the cords of “Just the Way You Are” by Billy Joel. Kennedy glanced at Jack, and they burst out laughing.
“Our turn,” Jack murmured, and then he led her out onto the dance floor.
As it turned out, he was a good dancer. He exuded a certain confidence and grace that was both slightly intimidating and overwhelming for someone like her, who hadn’t had a great deal of self-confidence even before she’d allowed her ex to walk all over her.
“You’re a good dancer,” Jack remarked as they swayed to the music. One hand rested lightly on the small of her back, while the other clasped her hand, gently guiding her around the dance floor.
“Thanks. It’s because I have a good partner.”
“We fit together well,” Jack said, and he sent her into a twirl before catching her and resuming the dance again.
“Oh,” she gasped.
Jack winked. “Stick with me, babe. I’m full of surprises.”
The song ended, and the wedding party left the dance floor and made their way to the head table so that dinner could be announced.
• • •
Dinner led to the cake-cutting ceremony and an endless stream of toasts. Kennedy gave her own tearful tribute, thanking Sabrina for being there for her own wedding and for giving Kennedy the opportunity to do the same for her.
Jack whispered to Cullen, “I didn’t realize she’s married.”
“Was. She’s been divorced a while. Three years, I think.”
“What? Was she sixteen when she got married?”
“Twenty-five, actually.”
“How long did it last?”
“Couple years. He cheated on her, so she left him.”
Jack studied Kennedy’s tearful performance. “She doesn’t look like the type a guy would cheat on.”
Cullen shrugged. “Some guys like variety, I guess, regardless of how good the catch they have. Oh hell, now they’re both crying.” He stood up to comfort his wife, who was hugging Kennedy and openly sobbing. Jack stood up and pulled the microphone from Kennedy’s hand.
“I guess that’s my cue,” he said as he offered her a cloth napkin to dab her eyes. “Kennedy’s good at the sappy stuff; I’m good at the funny stuff.”
That elicited a round of appreciative chuckles, and then he launched into the first of several amusing stories about some of his partner’s less-than-stellar moments in life. Cullen’s brother stood up and joined him at the mic, and within a few short minutes, they had the crowd roaring with laughter, all at the groom’s expense.
He took it good-naturedly, though, lifting his drink in mock toast and saying, “I’m pretty sure I finally got it right now,” just before he dipped his head and kissed his smiling wife.
“Thanks for taking over,” Kennedy said as Jack dropped into the chair next to her. “I didn’t mean to get so emotional up there. I guess I’ve had a little too much to drink.”
“Haven’t we all?” He lifted his glass and drained it. “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do at a wedding?”
She smiled and took another sip from her champagne glass. “I’m not sure “supposed to” is necessarily accurate. Although you’re right that it is pretty common.”
“More champagne or something else?” he asked.
“I like the champagne,” she admitted. “But I don’t know if there is any left.”
“Sure there is,” he said, and he stood up and left the table. When he returned, he held a bottle of champagne in one hand and a glass of bourbon and Coke in the other. He filled her glass and stuffed the bottle into the ice bucket sitting at her elbow.
“Where’d you get it?” Kennedy asked as she sipped at her drink.
“Charmed it off one of the waitresses.”
She shook her head. “Why am I not surprised?”
Jack wanted to sleep with her, but he was not interested in anything more than a quick fling. Still, it irritated him that she thought he was that guy. Especially now that he knew her ex-husband had cheated on her. He didn’t want her to believe all guys were like her ex. Even though he intended for their affair to be brief, he wanted her to understand that she was special for that short time. Jack prided himself on the fact that none of his liaisons left the experience with a bitter taste in their mouth.
“Come on, let’s mingle.” He held out his hand in invitation. She placed her hand into his, and he tugged her to her feet, leading her away from the table without releasing her hand.
“Are you and Sabrina the only ones in the family who live in New Orleans?” he inquired as they walked.
Kennedy nodded. “Practically everyone else lives in Dallas. That’s why Sabrina got married here, instead of in New Orleans.”
“Is that what you’ll do, when you get married someday?”
She shook her head. “Not getting married again.”
Her tone bothered him. It was as if she were giving up on something without ever having given it a chance in the first place. Even though she had been married once before, he determined that one didn’t count. She hadn’t had any control in the way it ended.
Whatever she might have replied was lost when she smiled fondly, clearly pleased about something. He was momentarily bowled over by the way the smile lit up her face before he shook it off and shifted his gaze to determine what caused her such obvious joy.
“Who’s that?” he asked, nodding at the older couple and young man who were standing near the edge of the dance floor, talking animatedly. The woman in the group waved enthusiastically in their direction.
Kennedy’s smile widened and she lifted her hand to wave back. “My parents. And my brother, Carter.”
“Carter?” Jack arched his blond brow.
Kennedy giggled. “My parents have a thing for presidential names.”
“I’ll say.”
“You have a problem with that, Jack?”
“Actually, my name is Jackson.” He grinned cheekily when she continued giggling. He liked the sound of her giggle. He had the sense she didn’t do it often, and he felt a moment of pride that he was able to elicit the reaction so easily. He glanced at the half-empty champagne glass in her hand and decided to pretend she was so relaxed because of him, not the alcohol.
“Let’s go say hi,” he suggested. As they walked toward the group, his gaze swept the room.
“What are you looking for?”
“The maid of honor.”
“Still having issues with Vanessa?”
“She’s drunk and she keeps hitting on me. And by the way, I’m definitely throwing off not interested vibes.”
He liked the relieved look that flashed in her eyes. He liked that he was able to put it there.
By the time they reached the gathering, another woman had joined them, wrapping her arms around Kennedy’s brother from behind, and resting her chin on his shoulder. He looked faintly embarrassed by the public display of affection.
“That’s Sheryl, my brother’s girlfriend,” Kennedy whispered just before they stepped to within hearing distance of the small family gathering. “She’s a little much to take when you first meet her,” she warned.
Kennedy’s parents were typical warm and friendly Southern folk. Both greeted Jack warmly, complimented him on his amusing speech, and thanked him for watching out for their daughter. Kennedy rolled her eyes.
“He isn’t even my date, Mom,” she protested. “We just happened to be in the wedding party together.”
Mrs. St. George eyed Jack in a way that would make a lesser man uncomfortable. “You two sure looked good walking down the aisle together.”
“Mo-o-o-m.”
Kennedy’s annoyance at her mother’s broad hint made it easier for him to take it in stride. Otherwise, he might have gone running in the other direction. Matchmaking Mamas ranked up there with married women on his not interested list.
“Maybe it’s just him,” Kennedy’s brother’s girlfriend purred. She straightened away from Carter and strutted over, surprising everyone by enveloping Jack in a full-body hug.
Jack disengaged himself and chuckled. “Well, that’s a hell of a greeting.”
Sheryl smiled coyly and batted heavily made-up blue eyes. “There’s more where that came from.”
Carter scowled. His mother tried to divert everyone’s attention by speaking overly loudly about how lovely the wedding was, and how delicious the food was, and how adorable the bride and groom were.
“Honey, we’re going to have to consider moving to New Orleans at this rate,” she said to her husband. “It seems every time one of the children on your side of the family gets married, that’s where they end up.”
“Vanessa still lives in Dallas,” her husband remarked. “What about you, Carter? You going to move to New Orleans when you get married?”
“Not getting married,” he said distractedly.
Jack found it curious that both siblings were so anti-marriage when their parents appeared to have a healthy, loving relationship. Was he curious enough to ask Kennedy about it, or would that lead her to the wrong conclusion about what he expected out of today?
Sheryl continued to flirt with him, making it easy to banish any thoughts regarding marriage and futures. Jack figured if Carter ever did want to get married, this was definitely not the right choice.
Kennedy, he noticed, was assessing the situation. He suspected she was trying to determine a way to help her brother out of this embarrassing predicament. Before Jack could ascertain what she planned to do, she wrapped her arms around his bicep and said, “Come on, Jack. Dance with me.”
He tossed her an amused look and politely excused them both before leading her out to the dance floor. “Sacrificing yourself for your brother’s happiness?” he teased.
“It’s not really a sacrifice. But that was pretty bold of her to flirt with you right under Carter’s nose.”
“She was just flirting.”
“Just flirting more often than not leads to other activities.”
Her tone was icy. It took Jack a few seconds to realize why.
“Sorry. I forgot. About your ex, I mean.”
She shook her head. “It’s not me I’m worried about,” she explained. “I don’t want my brother to get hurt, that’s all.”
He didn’t believe her, not entirely, but he was wise enough to let the subject drop. Instead, he pulled her close, wrapped his arms around her waist, nuzzled her ear.
“This isn’t a slow song,” she pointed out. Her voice sounded awfully breathy.
“Yeah, I know. But I like holding you in my arms. It feels good.”
“Oh.”
• • •
Kennedy wished she were wittier. It seemed all she could ever say around Jack was “oh.” Not exactly stimulating responses.
Jack was certainly stimulated. They were close enough that she could feel his erection pressing into her belly. He wasn’t trying to hide it, either. When he nuzzled her ear, she tilted her head to give him better access. And then she realized what was happening.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Hitting on you. Is it working?”
“Um …”
“Want to go somewhere more private?”
“Umm …”
He twirled her away, pulled her back, and caught her, squeezing her more tightly than he had been a moment before. Kennedy forgot to breathe. She was distantly aware of the fact that he was backing her off the dance floor. She knew she should, but she made no move to stop him. Sabrina’s warning echoed in her head, but all she could think was, I deserve to have fun tonight. I can handle a one-night stand.
I want a one-night stand.
A few minutes later, he led her up a set of stairs that climbed from a hallway near the kitchen to the second floor.
“How did you know these stairs were even here?” she wondered as she held his hand and followed.
“I scoped out the place when we first arrived. Force of habit,” he admitted. She knew he was talking about his job, not his past liaisons, which she appreciated. For the moment, she wanted to pretend she was the only one. Otherwise, she might back out.
At the top of the stairs, he paused to flash her a grin over his shoulder. She gave him a wobbly smile in return. He tugged her hand, leading her to the bride’s room.
Where they found Cullen and Sabrina prematurely sealing their wedding vows.
“Guess they can’t get it annulled now,” Jack remarked as he quietly pulled the door closed.
She shook her head, as reason pushed through the haze of alcohol and lust. “This is a bad idea. Sabrina says I’m supposed to stay away from you.”
“I’m going to have a talk with Sabrina about interfering with my sex life,” Jack muttered. “Why did she say that?”
Kennedy shrugged. “You’re a player.”
“Are you looking for forever, Kennedy?”
She gasped and vehemently shook her head. Been there, done that, she almost said out loud.
“Me neither. So how is this a bad thing again?”
“Umm …”
“I’m usually pretty good with the intuition thing. And my intuition is telling me that you are attracted to me.”
Kennedy cleared her throat. “I—I think your intuition is correct.”
Jack grinned. “I thought so. And I’m sure it’s pretty damn obvious that I’m attracted to you.”
To prove his point, he backed her up to the wall, pressed his palms against the wallpaper, and dipped his head to nibble at her throat. She made a small, strangled noise and grabbed his shoulders to keep herself from falling when her knees buckled.
Jack sucked her earlobe into his mouth. “I promise, babe, you won’t regret it. I’m a very attentive lover.”
“Oh God.”
“I want to hear you scream that.”
“Limo,” she gasped, and she grabbed his hand and dragged him back down the hall to the stairs. She had no idea what caused her to think of the stretched vehicle out in the parking lot; all she knew was that three years of self-enforced celibacy had pushed her libido to the limit. She wanted to break her fast, and she wanted to do it right now, with this man.
Whatever happened tomorrow didn’t matter. Whatever happened in two hours wouldn’t matter. She just needed right now, and she needed it to involve her and Jack and a distinct lack of clothing.
The driver sat in the front seat, reading a newspaper and tapping his foot to the beat of a country song blaring from the speakers. Jack handed him a wad of cash and tucked Kennedy into the back of the limo. As soon as they were inside, the car lurched into motion, sending her tumbling into the groomsman’s lap. He pushed the button to raise the darkened glass that separated them from the front.
“We aren’t really doing this, are we?” she asked as Jack smoothed her skirt up her legs so she could straddle his lap without tearing her dress.
“Hell yes, we are. You don’t want to know how much I just paid that guy to drive around in circles for half an hour.”
“Half an hour?”
“Trust me, babe.” He flipped her onto her back on the plush leather seat.
“What?”
He laid down on top of her, his body nestled between her thighs as he propped himself up on his elbows. “Have you ever had sex in a limo before?”
She shook her head, staring up at him.
“It’s fun,” he promised, and he dipped his head and kissed her.
Kennedy was embarrassed that the driver knew precisely what they were doing back there while he drove aimlessly around town. She wasn’t this sort of woman. She’d slept with precious few men before meeting her ex-husband, and she’d only slept with one since asking for the divorce. And that decision had been a knee-jerk reaction when the lawyer she’d consulted about the divorce had promised to retrieve her money—even offered a reduced fee—if she would sleep with him. She’d been so distraught and confused, she’d done it. Except afterward she’d been too mortified to face him again, so she’d sent him an email letting him know she no longer required his services. She then went to a far more expensive female lawyer who was no less intimidating, but at least she hadn’t hit on Kennedy.
“I don’t normally do this,” she breathed as he slowly made his way down her body, kissing every inch of exposed flesh along the way. The fantasies she’d had at the wedding flashed through her mind. The real thing was so much better.
He pushed the dress over her shoulders and tugged at the bodice, revealing her bronze-colored bra. He pursed his lips around one lace-covered breast and exhaled. Hot, moist air puckered the nipple. Kennedy arched into his touch and made another strangled noise of pleasure.
“Glad to hear it,” Jack said as he focused his attention on the other breast. “I like the idea of being your first.”
She arched again, threaded her fingers into his hair and squeezed. “I mean this,” she gasped. “Sex. Mindless. No commitments.”
Jack paused in his ministrations and lifted his head to look at her face. “Do you want me to stop?”
“Oh God, no,” she said before she could think, could possibly utter another answer. Not that she would at this point. Every nerve ending in her body was screaming with anticipation. If he stopped now, she was certain she would self-combust.
He gave her a lazy smile. “You can handle this, babe. No strings. No worries. Just let me pleasure you.”
“O-okay.”
He dipped his head, kissed her cleavage, and then continued his downward path until his elbows were pressed into the leather seats and his hands cupped her thighs, holding her steady while he laved at her as if she were the tastiest ice cream cone. Her fingers stayed threaded in his hair as she urged him on with gentle pushes.
Her hips bucked. She chanted, “Oh God, oh God, oh God,” and then she exploded, the orgasm so intense her back bowed off the seat.
Jack sat back on his haunches, fighting with the clasp on his tuxedo pants, fumbling in his urgency to be inside her.
And then he was, leaning forward, pressing into her, his arms around her back, his hands cupping her head. He kissed her and thrust, and kissed her and thrust, again and again and—. Suddenly he pushed away and pulled out.
Kennedy’s eyes shot open, and she blinked dazedly as he sat on his haunches and contorted his body, struggling to reach something in the pants that were twisted around his knees.
“What are you doing?” she asked, confused.
“Damn it,” Jack muttered. He finally managed to pull his wallet out of his pants. “I can’t believe I almost forgot to use protection. Shit. I never do that.”
Kennedy lay back against the seat and breathed a sigh of relief. She watched him struggle to open the condom package, and then attempt to sheath his erection. His hands shook so badly, he couldn’t seem to get it right. It was oddly thrilling.
She finally took pity on him. “Our half hour is running out.” She pushed his hands away and quickly and efficiently rolled the condom over his erection. He closed his eyes and let her do it, making a noise of desire deep in his throat.
“Okay,” she said, and she opened her arms. “Come here.”
“Anything you say, babe.” He moved over her, positioned his erection, and thrust again. “Yeah,” he grunted as he pulled out and thrust again. And again. And again.
“Oh God.” She began the chant; her insides began to coil round and round, tighter and tighter, in a paradox of pleasure combined with the edge of pain. She arched against him, dropped her hands to grab his butt, and pulled him more tightly against her.
He responded by thrusting harder and faster, grunting between kisses. “Come on, baby,” he crooned. “Come with me. Come on.”
“Yes!”
She exploded. Jack let out a yell of his own as he chased her over the edge, filling the condom before collapsing on top of her.
“I don’t think I can move,” he muttered a few moments later.
“I hope that changes quickly, because I can’t breathe.”
Jack shifted onto his side, taking Kennedy with him so that they faced one another on the seat.
“You okay?” he asked as he let his hand wander, smoothing over the dress that still covered half her body.
She smiled. Her smile wasn’t wobbly anymore. Amazing what great sex could do for a woman. “Quite. This is a little embarrassing to admit, but it’s been a while.”
He rolled his hips. “Give me a few minutes, and I bet I can manage another go-round.”
The limo lurched to a stop. She struggled into a seated position as she frantically began pulling herself together. Jack used a napkin to dispose of the used condom, and then tugged his pants over his hips and tucked his shirt into the waistband. The driver knocked on the window, and Jack pressed the button to roll it down just enough to let the man know they would be out in a moment.
“This is so embarrassing,” she moaned while Jack helped her adjust her dress.
“You’re embarrassed that you just had sex with me?”
“I’m embarrassed that he knows we just had sex.” She jabbed her thumb at the door.
“Relax, babe. He sees this stuff all the time.”
He did not give her a chance to respond. He pushed open the door, climbed out, and then bent and helped her out of the limo. Kennedy turned to look at her reflection in the mirrored windows.
“I look terrible.”
“You look hot.”
“I look like I just had sex.”
“Which is hot.”
She rolled her eyes and tried to fix her hair. In contrast, Jack simply ran a hand through his and apparently considered himself good to go. She focused on her own disheveled locks again.
“I don’t think I can go back into the reception,” she protested.
He glanced at his watch. “It’s almost over anyway. Want the limo to take you back to the hotel?”
“What are you going to do?”
“Go inside and let Sabrina and your parents know that you left, so they won’t worry.”
The gesture was curiously endearing. “Thanks. Really. I mean, thanks. That was … great.”
He leaned into her, tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear, and brushed a kiss over her lips. “You’re right. It was great.”
And then he was gone, striding across the parking lot toward the reception hall. Without looking the driver in the eye, Kennedy asked him to take her to the hotel, and then climbed back into the limo. She sank into the seat and blew out another deep breath.
Oh my God, she’d just had sex with renowned playboy Jack Boudreaux.
And she’d liked it. A lot.