Page 48 of Last First Kiss

“Oh, it’s not at all,” Jordan assures him. “I’ll coordinate everything beforehand.”

Sam doesn’t appear convinced. “We’re not sure this is the right place for us.”

Fuck. Jordan needs to think fast. This was his last resort. Their schedule is already hyper-condensed. There’s not enough time to contact another venue. One outside the dozen he’s already tried.

Disappointment starts to unfold across Amy’s face. Jordan’s seconds from losing her too. He needs a way to convince Sam that the Conservatoryisthe right venue for their wedding.

He needs a plan. A moment to think. He trained under Kami Carter, the best events manager in all of Atlanta. She never met a challenge she couldn’t conquer. A client she couldn’t woo.

Jordan can do this. He just needs—

He needs—

Jamie steps forward. “Sam, before you decide, can I show you one thing?”

Sam blinks warily at him. “I guess?”

A grin edges up Jamie’s mouth. He swipes around on his phone before offering it to Amy. “Hold this for me, Ames?”

Distrust flits through her eyes.

“Trust me,” he requests. “Oh, and press Play in one sec.”

She doesn’t argue. Only watches as he strolls over to Jordan, his hand extended. “Follow my lead.”

“Do… what now?” Jordan stammers.

Jamie’s fingers wiggle, beckoning him. “C’mere. Trust me,” he repeats in a whisper.

Jordan absolutely doesnottrust him. This is the same Jamie Peters who, as teens, convinced him to put shaving cream in Denz’s hand while he slept. Who dared him to wear all his clothes backward for a day. Who fed him pot brownies andkissed himand then—somehow—cheated to winMario Kart.

Trusting Jamie Peters is like trusting a hellmouth demon holding up a sign that says,FREE CANDY.

But when Jordan’s gaze shifts, he finds Amy’s eyes are on them. Sam’s watching too, doubt still pinched between his eyebrows. A quiet curiosity blossoms behind the concern. As if he’s invested in whatever Jamie has planned.

Reluctantly, Jordan rests his iPad on an empty table. He slides his hand into Jamie’s. It’s warm and soft, the way Jordan remembers. An unfortune shiver runs up his spine. He allows Jamie to lead him to the greenhouse’s center.

Jamie coaxes him closer. He positions his hands on Jordan’s hips. It’s barely a second before Jordan realizes what’s next.

“You’re serious?”

“Very,” Jamie says, eyebrows wiggling.

Jordan bites down on a swear. He swallows his hesitation. Stiffly, he locks his arms around Jamie’s neck.

“Now, Ames,” Jamie calls.

Amy hits Play on his phone. Ed Sheeran’s “Thinking Out Loud” fills the glass enclosure. “It’soursong!” she swoons.

Sam’s mouth twitches a little.

“Now, picture it,” Jamie requests. He starts to sway. Tiny rocking motions that Jordan half-heartedly mimics. “It’s sunset.”

Peach and maroon wash through the sky above them. The sun’s drifting. Its final rays cast an orangey pool of light around them.

Naturally, it’s all coincidental.

“The room is silent. The DJ calls you two center stage. Plays your song,” Jamie continues. He rotates them in a graceless, wobbly circle. Coordination is not one of his strengths. Problem is, Jordan doesn’t care.