Which was way lower than her chest. The exposed creamy, curving flesh taunted him.
Jamie shook her head. “I sound like a total hick, don’t I?” she said.
Allison nodded. “Yes, but that’s okay. I’m feeling a little plebian right now, too. This is a cool hotel.”
“Oh, please,” Jamie replied. “You’re from Connecticut, and Mandy’s from a swanky British country estate. You may not be filthy rich, but at least y’all know which forks to use. I seriously don’t have a clue.”
Jack came around the corner, not willing to let her escape him again. “You start from the outside and work your way in. Don’t worry. I’ve got your back, remember?”
Mandy said, “Excuse us,” grabbed Allison by the arm and took off into the throng of wedding guests. He really liked that Mandy.
“I didn’t know you were standing there,” Jamie said, swallowing hard.
“I was.” He closed the remaining two feet between them and set his plate down on an end table, feeling as though what he said to Jamie tonight might be some of the most important words he’d ever spoken. He needed to go easy, exercise caution. Not scare the crap out of her by attacking her the way he really wanted to.
“Would you like some wine?”
“Okay. Sure.”
“You like red, don’t you?”
She nodded, so he handed her his glass. “Here, take this.”
Their fingers brushed, her mouth slid open in surprise. He watched her lips as she drank the wine, running her tongue across the bottom to catch the stray drops.
Her eyes darkened.
Desire shot through him.
All it took was a little tug, and they were together behind the potted plant. He obviously needed to work on that caution thing.
She shook her head. “No, Jack, no, not here.”
“Where, then?” He nipped that bottom lip, tasting the sweetness of the wine, the warm scent that was uniquely hers.
That little hitch in her breath, the gasp escaping her, made Jack’s control start to slip. He tightened his hold on her.
“Nowhere.” But she didn’t pull away, and she didn’t say no to his tongue tracing down to her neck, worshipping that graceful arch.
“I miss you, Jamie. Whenever you’re not with me, I miss you.” He was aware that he was begging for trouble here. Begging probably being the key word. He felt capable of begging if she said no.
But she wasn’t saying no and he had little ability to stop where Jamie was concerned. He groaned and forced himself to take a step back so he wouldn’t yank the top of her dress down and sink his teeth into that luscious flesh.
“You miss the sex,” she whispered.
“No.” He pulled back. “Well, yes, I do.” He smiled. “But that’s not what I meant. I meant I miss you. Your smile. Your laugh. The sweet, sweet things you say. The conversations we have. I like you, Jamie, is that so wrong?”
She sighed. “No. I like you, too.”
Then that was all he needed to know. That was enough for now.
“It’s probably time for dinner,” Jamie said.
“You’re right.” He smiled and set the empty wineglass down on the end table as they emerged from behind the plant. “Though I don’t think what I want is on the menu.”
That’s what Jamie was talking about. How was she supposed to resist the man when he was being sweet, intense, tossing out sexual innuendos left and right?
It was bad enough she was seated next to him at the dinner table, but every time she glanced at him, he looked ready to devour her.
Or he came right out and said so.
When he wasn’t throwing her off guard by asking her thoughtful and informed questions about her job or her childhood or whether she liked Thai food.
It was getting on her nerves.
Because she was unable to resist. She was talking with him, gushing really, if the truth be told, and enjoying every sappy second just like their night together.
“So what do you miss about Kentucky?” he asked her, his thigh brushing against hers under the table.
Wishing she were wearing a really thick dress, made out of say, upholstery, Jamie moved her leg to remove it from his reach.
Now she could think. Somewhat. “My mother, of course. Green space. Horses, like I told you before.” She grinned at him. “And Derby pie.”
“What’s Derby pie?”
“Nothing but chocolate. Layers and layers of ooey gooey chocolate.”
“What makes it Derby pie?” Jack cocked his head to the side, as if he were going to venture a guess, then thought better of it.
“My mom always said because it looks like the track the horses run on at Churchill Downs, but to me it looks more like the infield where we always sat on blankets when I was a kid. Muddy and gross.”
He laughed. “Sounds like fun.”
Jamie pushed her fork around her plate, aware that she had paid attention only to Jack for the entire meal. She was virtually ignoring Steve on her right, but she couldn’t help herself. It was a sickness.
“It was. And in high school we used to go with our boyfriends.”
Jack reached over and stabbed the last shrimp on her plate and ate it.
“Hey!”
He smiled again, that slow, crooked, sinful smile that made her feel like she was having a menopausal hot flash.
Then Jack moved so quickly she nearly fell backward out of her chair. He stood up and took her hand.
“Dance with me.”
“There’s no dance music yet. It’s background music.” She was forced to stand up as well since he was tugging her arm.
“Well, what are they waiting for? Everyone’s done eating.”
And as if the band had heard him, they began to announce the first dance, calling the wedding party up to open the floor.
Jamie noticed with mortification that neither Steve and Mandy, nor Finn and Allison, were holding hands the way she and Jack were.
And when they danced, neither of the other two couples was flush up against each other sharing oxygen.
“Back up a little,” she said to him, trying to shrug away from him without getting off the music.
She didn’t even want to consider the fact that three hundred people were watching them right now, including Caroline and Mrs. Davidson, who would have to be blind and stupid not to notice the sex vibes radiating off of her and Jack.
Unfortunately, Caro and her mother were neither.
In fact, Jamie peered around Jack and saw Caroline’s mother, his mother, studying them with eyes narrowed. Jamie broke out into a sweat and pictured all of her make-up sliding off of her face and onto her chest.