“You sure about that?” she asked, her aqua eyes twinkling.
No, I’m not sure about that, he was stunned to realize. “If I were trying to pick you up, you’d know,” he said with all the confidence he didn’t feel, because in fact, he neverhadtried to pick up a woman for real. It was pretty damn astonishing that he might have been doing it anyway, judging by the way she was leaning forward, her lips slightly parted.
“How?” she challenged.
God, he should’ve known she would flat-out ask. Of course she would.
“Are you asking because you want me to?” he deflected.
“I’m asking because the most well-known prim, proper, and professional wedding singer in the Tri-State area just admitted he’s been checking me out, and I am all sorts of intrigued.”
The problem was, her skin looked so soft up close. And her hair smelled so good up close. And her lips lookedsoinviting up close.
When did he get so close?
When did he decide to bend down to her ear and utter, “I am really not that prim and proper”?
How did their lips meet without him even realizing they were drawing together like magnets?
It was a stunning realization that he was, somehow—in the bridal suite of a wedding he was working, no less—having his very first kiss. So stunning that he accidentally snapped his mouth shut, his teeth closing on one of her soft, lush lips. But instead of yelping or pushing him away, she let out the softest little moan, and in that sound, he lost every ounce of sanity he possessed.
Everything about this was an absolutely terrible idea, and yet,even knowing that with absolute certainty couldn’t stop him from pushing a hand into her artfully done hair, pulling her closer, slipping his tongue into her mouth, and drawing out the taste of ginger ale and grenadine.
He was definitely starting to understand the appeal of Shirley Temples.
The sharpness of her nails clawing into the nape of his neck pulled a groan from deep in his throat, and he knew he should be worried about her leaving marks, but how could he possibly care about that with all her soft curves pressed against him, and—
Oh, God. He pulled back, missing her warmth and scent and taste immediately, especially when she looked up at him with an expression that looked smug and half drunk in a way that was impossibly, unbearably sexy. “Sorry,” he muttered, smoothing down his shirt.
“For what?”
He closed his eyes and exhaled, gesturing downward. She might have been soft, but he was decidedly not.
She laughed, and on the plus side, that did a whole lot to help deflate the situation. “Judah, that is, uh, not something you need to apologize for.” She stretched her arms behind her, resting on her palms, and shemusthave known the effect it had, pushing her breasts against the low neckline of her dress. “You don’t get to have a lot of fun, do you?”
Aaand the problem was back. He looked away, hunting for a mirror to put himself back together. “We have to get back out there in about two minutes. I am begging you to please shut up.”Ah!He found what he was looking for and frantically smoothed and readjusted his shirt before slipping his jacket on top, then finger-combed through his hair and reset his kippah on neatly. On the outside, he was back to looking meticulous, as long as you didn’t notice the wild look in his eyes he couldn’t seem to shake.
“Wow,” she said flatly as he turned back, calm and collectedand as ready as he could possibly be with his fingers still tingling. “You reallyarea prim and proper professional.”
“That only works on me once.” He tried to add a hint of a smile to his reply, but when he saw her eyes narrow, he could tell it hadn’t quite made it. Still, that was probably for the best—he had to go make this a night Reuben and Aleah would never forget, and he wouldn’t be able to do that if he didn’t get his wits back about him immediately. “Have fun tonight, Arielle.”
And he left her behind, as much as he could, the taste of maraschino cherry still bright on the tip of his tongue.
Well, that was humiliating.Arielle reapplied her lipstick carefully in the same mirror Judah had used a minute earlier, right before tearing from the room like a bat out of hell.And confusing. “God, why the hell was I even kissing Judah Klein?” she muttered before pressing her lips together. Hearing the words aloud made them make even less sense. If her hair hadn’t been such a mess from where he’d tugged on it, she might even have been able to convince herself it’d never happened.
Honestly, one tequila shot and she could probably convince herself anyway. Judah Klein couldn’tpossiblyhave kissed her, could he?
She was so disoriented she nearly forgot the bag of arches she’d been sent there to retrieve. She turned on her heel, grabbed the duffel, and swung open the door, only to bump right into her cousin Miriam.
“There you are!” Miriam yanked the bag from her hand as if they weren’t headed to the exact same destination. “We thought you got lost.”
Miriam was probably the last person on Earth she’d tell the real reason for what took her so long, so instead, she trudged along after her, meeting up with the other bridesmaids on the dance floorand distributing the arches just in time for the drum roll. And then Judah Klein—Judah freaking Klein—picked up the mic.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome, for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Reuben and Aleah Feingold!”
The music burst into the familiar strains of “Od Yishamah” as the newly married pair ran out onto the floor and under the arches before splitting into their respective gendered sections while everyone whooped along. Arielle dutifully collected the arches from the other bridesmaids and put them back in the bag, the sound of Judah’s beautiful voice ringing in her head like a pounding headache.
She headed back to the inner circle, yanking Hannah along the way to join the rest of the family dancing around Aleah and Aunt Steph. The songs blended one into another as each of the bridesmaids and family members took their turns, Ari going dizzy as she, Dana, and Hannah dashed in a circle with the bride, their platform sneakers slapping on the wooden dance floor.
