Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 88490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
“Blake—”
“But no worries. I’ll just sit tight until you figure that out.”
Hosting her brother’s wedding for an MVP guest list is the challenge of Jess Canning’s life. Already the family screw-up, she can’t afford to fail at this, too. Especially after the colossal mistake she made with the best man during a weak moment last spring. Nobody—absolutely nobody—can find out about that, and there will not be a repeat. Absolutely not. No matter how devastatingly sexy his smile, he’s a giant manchild who’s never been serious in his life. And if Jess wants to prove herself to her family, serious is what she has to get.
For Blake Riley, this wedding is a gift from fate itself. The girl he has his eye on is the maid of honor, and he’s the best man? Let the games begin. So what if Jess is giving him a little—fine, a lot—of resistance? He just needs to convince the stubborn blonde that he’s really a good boy with a bad rap. Beneath the flirty jokes and goofy smile, he’s got layers—even if Jess doesn’t want to see them.
Luckily, every professional hockey player knows that you’ve got to make an effort if you want to score.
And Jess is just the girl he wants to win.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Chapter 1
The Maid of Honor Gig
JESS
June
Even though the restaurant staff has already done its magic, I’m fussing over the dining table one more time. Each centerpiece gets a last-minute adjustment to make sure the flowers are perfect. A glance out the window shows me that the cloudless sky is already deepening. I’ve timed my brother’s rehearsal dinner so that the first streaks of color will appear over the Pacific just as the appetizer course is served.
The forecast for tomorrow is perfect too—sunny with a high of seventy-five. Even the weather doesn’t dare interfere with the greatest wedding ever thrown.
Beyond the arched entryway to this private dining room, I hear the pop of a champagne bottle right on schedule. The guests are arriving. I can hear my sister’s laughter just around the corner in the bar area. Sure enough, my mother pokes her head through the doorway.
“Oh, sweetie, you did such a fabulous job!” she exclaims. “This is all so gorgeous! I predict a smashing success!”
“Thank you,” I whisper, adjusting a butter knife that I adjusted two minutes ago.
“You are constantly surprising us, Miss Jessica.” Mom beams at me as she raises her champagne flute to her lips.
Instead of beaming back and accepting Mom’s compliments, I find myself bristling. Because I don’t hear the compliments. I don’t hear the words “fabulous” or “smashing success” or “Miss Jessica,” the nickname my dad gave me when I was three years old.
I hear the word “surprising.”
Translation: My family is surprised I managed to pull off this rehearsal dinner without screwing it up.
“Thanks, Mom.” I muster a smile, and she disappears again, probably to greet another of my five siblings.
I should be out there too, having a glass of wine and resting on my laurels. But I can’t stop myself from grabbing my notebook out of my bag and eyeballing the page marked Rehearsal Dinner one more time. Name cards—check. White wine ordered and iced—check.
Everything is perfection. Except for me. I’m a freaking wreck. In the first place, planning the perfect wedding is stressful. And in the second place…
“Wesley! J-Bomb!” a loud voice bellows in the next room. “I have arrived!”
The deep timbre of his voice reverberates inside my chest. Blake Riley is on the premises, and my blood pressure doubles.
I fiddle with the silverware again, listening.
“Gonna get you both pixilated tonight!” Blake says, and I hear the powerful slap of bro hugs being dished out. “And who is this beauty?”
My mother begins to gush over Blake, and I feel a chill climb up my spine. As if the wedding weren’t stressful enough, I have to cope with the loudest, brashest, most annoying man I’ve ever met in my life. He’s got a big body, a big personality and…
Fine. He also has the biggest dick I’ve ever seen in my life. But I try not to think about that particular part of his anatomy if I can help it.
My family cannot know about the colossal mistake I made this spring. I can’t give them one more exhibit of my lack of judgment, not when I’m about to announce yet another career change. I’m already the flighty kid. The screwup.
And I absolutely put the screw in screwup when I let Blake get me out of my clothes. Trust me, that won’t be happening again. But his presence complicates things. Tomorrow, I’m throwing a wedding for three hundred guests, including two dozen famous hockey players. Meanwhile, Blake has spent the past month texting me inappropriate wedding ideas and jokes.
And, when I hadn’t replied, a photo of his hand around his junk.
OMG, stop, I’d replied. Anyone could have seen that.
Blake: Ha! I knew you were getting these texts!
The man is incorrigible. And now I’ve run out of things to fuss over and straighten. I’m just hiding here in the private dining room, damn it.
I give my hair a quick toss and wet my lips. Then, with my chin held high, I take a deep breath and step into the bar area. I spot my sister, Tammy, holding a bottle of champagne, so I home in on her without looking at Blake. But I can sense his presence at the end of the bar. Just stepping into the room with him, an awareness of him settles over me, like an itch that needs scratching.
Like poison ivy.
“Here, Jessie!” Tammy says, handing me a glass of the good stuff. “I’m just so impressed with the way you’ve handled Jamie’s big day!”
“Thanks,” I mutter, slugging back a mouthful of bubbly. Tammy heaps more praise on me, and then Mom joins us to heap on more. They had obviously expected me to fail spectacularly or to quit in the middle of the job. And it brings me no satisfaction to know that the wedding tomorrow is going to be lovely. Because shortly afterward, I’ll have to tell everyone that I’m giving up on party planning.