From This Day Forward (The Wedding Belles 0.5)(8)

“Yes, gorgeous,” Leah said, latching on to something to think about other than Jason’s hands and tongue. “How’d you get it on such short notice?”

Alexis lifted a shoulder. “Can’t take credit for it. Mr. Preston rented out the entire B and B for the wedding vendors. The florist, videographer, me, you guys . . .”

Alexis continued speaking. Something about the schedule and a snafu with the chair covers for the reception and how the singer of the band had a throat tickle.

But Leah had stopped listening, and from the heat coming off Jason, she had a feeling he had, too.

His eyes drifted down, resting on her lips before he slowly let his gaze run over the rest of her, lingering on all the spots she wanted him to touch.

Alexis looked at Leah. “Do you want to grab a drink later?”

“Hmm?” Leah asked, still distracted by the heat in Jason’s gaze.

Alexis snorted. “I’m thinking that’s a no on the drink, then.”

Leah forced herself to look up at her friend, who lifted an amused eyebrow. “No, I’d love to grab a drink,” she blurted, her enthusiasm sounding forced even to her own ears. “Jason and I will be done soon.”

“No,” he interrupted, “we won’t.”

Leah opened her mouth to retort, but Alexis’s soft touch on her shoulder stopped her. “Call me later.”

“Wait, I—”

But Alexis had already moved away with a playful wink.

“Damn it, Jason,” Leah said, glaring at him. “Why’d you let her think that we were . . . you know.”

He picked up his wineglass and pinned her with a wide-eyed, innocent gaze. “We were what?”

“Never mind,” she muttered. “I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.”

“Charming?” he asked.

“Presumptuous,” she corrected. “Contrary to the delusions in your head, you’re not every woman’s fantasy.”

“I never wanted to be every woman’s fantasy. Just yours.”

Leah froze at the unexpected seriousness in his voice. “Jason . . .”

“Do you want dessert?” he asked abruptly.

Leah closed her eyes to ward off the conversational whiplash. “We’re talking about dessert now?”

“You used to have a sweet tooth.”

She still did, but right now, food was just about the last thing on her mind. “No, I’m fine. Unless you want something.”

Jason’s smile was quick and hungry. “Oh, I want something, Red. I don’t think I’ve ever stopped wanting.” He pushed back his chair, stood up, threw some bills onto the table, and stretched out his hand. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”





The restaurant Jason had chosen was just a few doors down from the B and B where they were staying, but although the walk was only five minutes, it was five long minutes along the beach.

As in, Leah McHale was taking an unintentional moonlight beach stroll with Jason Rhodes.

She shoved her fists into the pockets of her cardigan as she kept up as quick of a pace as the sand would allow, lest he get any hand-holding ideas. But then, this was Jason. He didn’t hold hands so much as screw you, both literally and figuratively.

Jason held the front door to their hotel open for her, and wordlessly, Leah preceded him in. It was early yet, so a handful of people sat in the lobby, quietly sipping cocktails and laughing.

“Drink?” Jason asked quietly.

She shook her head. “I like to get a good eight hours of sleep before a job.”

His smile was fleeting. “I know.”

It had always been a thing with them. As wedding photographers, they’d quite often shared the same schedule: jam-packed weekends with slower Mondays and Tuesdays dedicated to long hours of photo editing and printing. And yet, even with the overlap in their schedules, they’d never quite gotten the sleep thing down.

Jason was a night owl, preferring to stay up into the wee hours, regardless of what time his wake-up call was later, and then crashing the next day as needed.

Leah liked her routine; she got eight hours as consistently as she could.

But if anything had been able to tempt Leah away from her routine, it had definitely been this man with his talented hands and wicked mouth.

“You can stay and hang out,” Leah said, nodding at the direction of the cozy reception area.

He said nothing as he followed her down the hallway toward their rooms—their connecting rooms.

She’d tried not to let it be a big deal, but suddenly with the safety of daytime behind them and with the warm buzz of her wine flowing through her veins, the shared wall suddenly felt like a very big deal.

Leah paused in front of her room, digging her key out of her purse. “Well, good night,” she said, her hand already extending toward the lock.

Long, warm fingers closed around her wrist, and Leah’s breath caught. “Damn it, Rhodes—”

His eyes were searching her face. “Am I alone here, Red? Am I the only one feeling . . . something?”

She pulled her hand free and turned to face him, trying to ignore how close he was—trying to ignore that she’d only need to lean forward the slightest bit to put her lips to his.

“I’m not saying the chemistry’s not there,” she said carefully. “That’s not the problem.”