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Embarrassingly so, he hated to admit it. He was just glad most of it wasn’t caught on film.
“Actually, yeah. Stupidly wild. I thought those people were my friends. I mean, they were always around. It wasn’t until after I got hurt that I realized just how friendless I was.”
Palming his arm, she replied, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. In many ways, that accident was awful. Painful. Something I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy, but in other ways, I think it may have saved my life. Strange as that might sound.”
She shook her head. “That doesn’t sound strange. It sounds like wisdom.”
“Well, that was hard learned then.” It didn’t help that he had a head made of steel.
“I bet.” She dropped her hand from his arm and toed the ground. “Um, well, I better get going. I promised Serenity I’d go with her to pick up her bridesmaids. She wants shots of them in the airport and then shots when we return to Wishing Well.”
Jack grinned. “Sure. Thanks for coming over… Letting me show you my junk.”
In a blink, her eyebrows knitted together, like he’d said something offensive, but for the life of him he couldn’t fathom what. She lifted on her toes, took his face in her hands, and said, “Don’t you ever refer to your art as junk, ever again. Do you hear me? Just because people didn’t appreciate it in the past doesn’t mean it’s not art. It is, and it’s beautiful.”
He stared at her a beat, swallowed hard, and replied just above a whisper, “Okay.”
Her gaze dipped to his lips and stayed there long enough that he wondered if she was thinking about kissing him. He knew he wanted to kiss her, for sure. So badly. The memory of that last kiss flashed before his eyes, and he could practically feel her lips on his.
Slowly, she stepped back as she took her hands from his face. A look of surprise mixed with regret seemed to reflect back at him.
“Okay. I guess I’ll get going before I’m late.”
He worked his jaw, unclamping his mouth just enough to reply, “Sure.”
“See you later.”
“Yeah.”
Jack watched her walk away, fists clenched and unclenched with each step. Almost like she was fighting with herself to keep going, it was certainly taking effort not to jog after her, take her in his arms, and kiss her.
Twice. He’d held strong twice.
They were friends. She wanted to be friends.
Maybe that argument would hold if there was a third time.
As the saying went, third time was a charm… his head and heart just couldn’t agree if it’d be an evil or a good one if they happened to kiss again.
CHAPTER 18
Jo
Jo picked at her food.
She’d almost kissed Jack. That was twice. Two times, her goofy self had managed to put herself within inches of his lips, and both times, she somehow managed enough willpower to slowly step away.
One minute, she was proud of herself. The next, she wanted to scream. Why were things so hard? She knew she had to return to New York. It’d been a discussion she’d had with herself since she left his shop.
There were brides who made appointments with her, some as far out as a year—Bridget had called earlier that day, and they’d added four more. Just a peek at her schedule would exhaust her. All that travel. All those interviews. While she loved the excitement of writing them, it was still a lot of work. She was good at what she did because she cared, and she could easily see getting burnt out.
Only Delia wasn’t taking that into consideration. Jo’s articles sold copies, and the magazine needed that if it wanted to stay in business.
It was also a year that she knew she wouldn’t be focusing on photography. Her plan was to move departments, get to know people in the industry… maybe slowly move in a different direction. Her five-year plan was quickly becoming a ten, maybe more. Did she want that?
A hand atop her caught her attention.
