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Chapter one
Jake
Idon'tknowhowI got roped into setting up for Jesse Hart's wedding, but I sure am glad I did.
At first, this seemed like any other chore. I'm here to let some lady tell me what to do, to haul stuff from point A to point B. That's fine by me; I pride myself on being a helpful guy.
But normally, the lady in question isn't quite this gorgeous.
She's got a gorgeous, lush, curvy body and long dark hair; sparkling blue eyes and pale, clear skin like a goddamn princess, with a heart-shaped mole on her left cheekbone. She's dressed smart, wrapped up in a navy blue pantsuit.
I can't stop looking at her as I carry chairs into the old barn, out of the snow. She's got snowflakes in her hair, the tip of her nose pink from the chill. I want to delicately pull the snowflakes away, fluff up her hair...then warm her up.
Fuck me. What is it about this town that makes the Harts want to settle down?
As I set down the chairs, she comes over to inspect them, giving them each a little pat before turning to me with a smile. I love that she treats each object--even the simplest parts of the wedding--like they're deserving of attention.
"Thank you so much for your help," she says, her voice like a melody, her lips parting in a wide smile.
Fuck, she's got a gorgeous smile too.
I can feel my face heating up, and I clear my throat. "No problem, ma'am. Anything to help out for the wedding."
She giggles, a sound that sends shivers down my spine. "Please, donotcall me ma'am."
I chuckle. "Then what should I call you?"
She blushes.
"Sarah."
I nod, trying to play it cool. "Sarah it is. I'm Jake."
"Nice to meet you, Jake." She gives me a once-over, and I swear I feel her eyes linger on my chest. "So, do you have any experience with wedding planning?"
I chuckle, scratching the back of my neck. "Can't say that I do. Just a guy who's good at lifting heavy stuff."
Isabella grins. "Well, we can always use more muscle. I'm surprised you don't have experience, though, given how many of your siblings have gotten hitched recently."
"Cousins," I correct her. "I'm one of the Louisiana Harts, not the Texas Harts."
"Ah," she says. "So you're not one of Caleb's brothers."
I glance over at her as we straighten up the rows of white chairs; Caleb is my oldest cousin, the responsible one. He's one of those Harts that recently got hitched to a girl in this town. "You know Caleb?" I ask.
"Of course I do," she laughs. "I'm his wife's best friend."
My mind races as I take in her words. She's Caleb's wife's best friend, which means she's been to family gatherings, seen me around, maybe even heard about me. I wonder what she's heard, what she thinks of me.
"I hope my lack of experience isn't a problem," I say, trying to keep the conversation going.
Sarah shakes her head, sending her long hair swishing. "Not at all. We're just glad to have some extra hands."
She smiles at me, and for a moment, everything else fades away. It's just me and her, in this old barn, surrounded by the chairs and the decorations and the promise of a wedding. It feels like we're the only two people in the world.
"Actually, I'm thinking about my next wedding," she says.
I stop dead in my tracks. "You're getting married?"
