church. She realized the number of married couples far outweighed the number of single people. Those couples were happy, too, as far as she could tell, which only added to her misery. Kennedy wanted to be happy.
She eyed her wedding counterpart. Jack was single, and he seemed happy. Maybe he knew something she didn’t.
“Stay away from him,” Sabrina had warned her a half dozen times. “The women love him, but he only wants one thing.”
Considering how just the simplest touch from Jack had spiked her blood pressure, she suspected it was not difficult at all for him to pick up women when he was in the mood for a little action.
Was that the key to happiness as a single person? Occasional one-night stands, with no other expectations? Jack looked, at the very least, content and comfortable in his own skin.
Kennedy certainly wasn’t happy, and neither did she feel comfortable in her own skin half the time. She tended to dress down, to hide herself, to try to avoid being noticed by the opposite sex. It was easier that way. Otherwise, she might have to be forced to address unwanted attentions from men like Jack.
They were unwanted, weren’t they?
Since her divorce three years ago, Kennedy had not dated at all. She was too afraid. She’d fallen for her lying ex-husband, let him talk her into moving from her comfort zone—her hometown of Dallas—to New Orleans, a town that was an entirely different world. She’d let him talk her into marrying him. And then he’d taken everything, including her pride, right from under her nose.
She glanced at Jack again, caught him watching her, and averted her eyes.
Kennedy’s experience with one-night stands was limited to two times in her entire life. There was that one time in college, when the guy had bet his friends that he could convince her to sleep with him. She thought he wanted to date her, wanted so much more, until the next morning when he laughed while he pulled his shorts over his thighs and said, “Thanks for that, Kennedy. I’m strapped for cash right now and that twenty bucks will sure come in handy.”
The other time had been a stupid mistake she’d made with the divorce attorney she’d hired when her ex stole all her money. So she probably shouldn’t be open to attempting another one-night stand.
Except that, honestly, wasn’t it different if she knew about it up front? If both parties had the same expectation? While the outcome had been humiliating, she could admit that the sex with the attorney had been good, at least while she’d been in the moment.
Maybe it had been good
because
it was a one-night stand.
She eyed Jack again. He certainly looked like he could please a woman in bed. Those big hands, with lean, nimble fingers. What would they feel like, caressing her breasts, sliding down her belly to the apex of her thighs?
Those full, slightly pouty lips trailing kisses along her throat, over her chest, suckling her nipples. His tongue darting out to tease her skin as he continued his downward path, until his lips were pressed against that part of her body that hadn’t felt the touch of a man’s lips in …
“Almost done,” Jack murmured, pulling her abruptly from the impromptu fantasy. His chocolate-brown eyes watched her from under hooded lids.
She turned her head slightly away. The man looked as if the rented tux had been made specifically for him, whereas Cullen looked faintly uncomfortable in the fancy duds.
Jack stepped in front of the altar and offered the crook of his arm. Kennedy slipped her hand through and let it rest lightly on his forearm as they both turned and posed for the photographer.
“Don’t be gentle, baby,” he teased, which caused a surprised giggle to burst from her mouth just as the camera clicked.
She lightly slapped his arm with her other hand. “You just ruined that picture,” she scolded as they walked down the aisle.
“By making you laugh? How do you figure?”
Kennedy shook her head as she kept a
She eyed her wedding counterpart. Jack was single, and he seemed happy. Maybe he knew something she didn’t.
“Stay away from him,” Sabrina had warned her a half dozen times. “The women love him, but he only wants one thing.”
Considering how just the simplest touch from Jack had spiked her blood pressure, she suspected it was not difficult at all for him to pick up women when he was in the mood for a little action.
Was that the key to happiness as a single person? Occasional one-night stands, with no other expectations? Jack looked, at the very least, content and comfortable in his own skin.
Kennedy certainly wasn’t happy, and neither did she feel comfortable in her own skin half the time. She tended to dress down, to hide herself, to try to avoid being noticed by the opposite sex. It was easier that way. Otherwise, she might have to be forced to address unwanted attentions from men like Jack.
They were unwanted, weren’t they?
Since her divorce three years ago, Kennedy had not dated at all. She was too afraid. She’d fallen for her lying ex-husband, let him talk her into moving from her comfort zone—her hometown of Dallas—to New Orleans, a town that was an entirely different world. She’d let him talk her into marrying him. And then he’d taken everything, including her pride, right from under her nose.
She glanced at Jack again, caught him watching her, and averted her eyes.
Kennedy’s experience with one-night stands was limited to two times in her entire life. There was that one time in college, when the guy had bet his friends that he could convince her to sleep with him. She thought he wanted to date her, wanted so much more, until the next morning when he laughed while he pulled his shorts over his thighs and said, “Thanks for that, Kennedy. I’m strapped for cash right now and that twenty bucks will sure come in handy.”
The other time had been a stupid mistake she’d made with the divorce attorney she’d hired when her ex stole all her money. So she probably shouldn’t be open to attempting another one-night stand.
Except that, honestly, wasn’t it different if she knew about it up front? If both parties had the same expectation? While the outcome had been humiliating, she could admit that the sex with the attorney had been good, at least while she’d been in the moment.
Maybe it had been good
because
it was a one-night stand.
She eyed Jack again. He certainly looked like he could please a woman in bed. Those big hands, with lean, nimble fingers. What would they feel like, caressing her breasts, sliding down her belly to the apex of her thighs?
Those full, slightly pouty lips trailing kisses along her throat, over her chest, suckling her nipples. His tongue darting out to tease her skin as he continued his downward path, until his lips were pressed against that part of her body that hadn’t felt the touch of a man’s lips in …
“Almost done,” Jack murmured, pulling her abruptly from the impromptu fantasy. His chocolate-brown eyes watched her from under hooded lids.
She turned her head slightly away. The man looked as if the rented tux had been made specifically for him, whereas Cullen looked faintly uncomfortable in the fancy duds.
Jack stepped in front of the altar and offered the crook of his arm. Kennedy slipped her hand through and let it rest lightly on his forearm as they both turned and posed for the photographer.
“Don’t be gentle, baby,” he teased, which caused a surprised giggle to burst from her mouth just as the camera clicked.
She lightly slapped his arm with her other hand. “You just ruined that picture,” she scolded as they walked down the aisle.
“By making you laugh? How do you figure?”
Kennedy shook her head as she kept a
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