Taking the Leap Page 7

  This means that we have to line up again, the way we did before walking down the aisle. This means I have to stand in front of Jenna again, but although I’m in my place, she’s not there. I scan the hotel hallway, looking for her. I can hear the DJ from inside the ballroom, making his announcements. In another minute, less than that, it’s going to be time. Everything else has gone without a hitch today, and I don’t want it to get messed up, now.

  But then, there she is, breathless and beautiful, practically running down the hall to slide into line behind me. “Hey.”

  I don’t have time to say anything to her, because the DJ is now announcing the bridal party, and it’s my turn to push through the doors and shake my groove thang on the dance floor, something I manage to do with enthusiasm for the sake of my sister and brand-new brother-in-law, if not much skill.

  Jenna is behind me, and despite everything that we’ve gone through lately, I can’t stop myself from turning toward her as she does her dance. She’s laughing, her face all lit up, and when she reaches for my hand, I let her take it without a second thought.

  We dance together. Our fingers linked. I twirl her in and out. Then dip. She comes back up, her body against mine for a moment that lasts too long for this fast song. I let her go.

  As much as I want to, I can’t stay angry at Jenna. I can’t hate her. I fell in love with her fast and hard and deep, and it would take a lot of effort to crawl out of that love. She deserves to know it.

  The DJ announces Abby and Tony, who enter the room holding hands and dancing. I’ve never seen my sister look so happy. Tony looks at her like she’s made of gold and diamonds. No. Something more precious than that.

  “They’re so happy,” Jenna says into my ear as the two of us dance away with the rest of the bridal party, toward the head table where we’ll be sitting.

  She stops, but her hand’s still linked to mine, so I stop, too. The DJ is talking. Abby and Tony are easing into their first dance. The entire room is focused on the bride and groom, but I only have eyes for Jenna.

  “I want to be that happy,” she says. “I mean…Sam…I am that happy. When I’m with you.”

  My heart lifts, up, up, up, an untethered balloon. I pull her a little closer. My throat is dry and so is my mouth. It’s still so hard to find the words. As it turns out, you don’t need to speak aloud when you can kiss your feelings, instead.

  It’s soft, gentle, brief. Just a bare brushing of my lips on hers. Jenna closes her eyes, and I press our foreheads together for a second or so. When she opens them, her gaze glitters with tears, but she’s grinning fiercely.

  “I love you,” I tell her in a low voice that ought to be drowned out by the music, but is perfectly audible to both of us.

  “I love you, too,” Jenna agrees, and a small furrow digs its way between her brows. “Please forgive me for —”

  I stop her with another kiss, this one a little longer and pull away with a shake of my head. “Not now. Later. Okay?”

  She nods. We let go of each other’s hands as we make our way to the head table to find our seats. I’m focused on looking for my name card, so I don’t immediately notice my mother stepping in front of me. I pull up short just in time to keep from running into her.

  “How. Dare. You.” She’s shaking, her face a slowly rising shade of crimson that looks unhealthy.

  I freeze at once. She kept her voice low, but anyone looking at her can see she’s about to blow. I can’t let that happen. Not today, not in front of all these people. I can’t let her ruin my sister’s day, and my mother looks like she’s well on the way to doing her best to do just that.

  “Mom,” I begin, but she cuts me off with a quick jab of her fingers against my chest. The poke hurts, but what’s worse is the way her face twists when she looks at me. I’ve seen that look before. Disgust.

  “You shut up,” she hisses. “How dare you? You and your little bitch of a girlfriend think you’re so smart?”

  Honestly, I know we both are, but I know better than to say so out loud. Instead, I draw myself up to my full height, shoulders squared. I look her in the eye, keeping my own voice pitched low and a neutral, pleasant expression on my face so that nobody watching us could begin to think I’m baiting her.

  “Whatever you think you have to say to me, it can wait,” I tell her.

  She’s not going to wait. Her mouth is working. There are little curdles of foam in the corners of her lips. My mother is about to lose her shit, spectacularly, and while it won’t be the first time I’ve ever seen it, I’m trying desperately to keep everyone else in the ballroom from having to witness it.

  From the corner of my eye, I catch sight of blond hair and a bright pink dress. Jenna’s gesticulating at the DJ. His assistant swings the spotlight toward me and my about-to-blow mother, just as the music fades and the DJ says into the mic, “and now, a few words of love and support from the mother of the bride, Margo!”

  Brilliant. My girl is a genius. My mother is put on the spot, literally, and can only take the cordless mic the DJ’s assistant is now pressing into her shaking hand.

  Margo will never, never, act like the total bitch that she is in front of all these people. Jenna has done the one thing guaranteed to fend off my mother’s meltdown. I back out of the light as my mother manages to get herself together enough to start speaking — it’s a bunch of bullshit, obviously, since she’s spent the last year doing nothing but complain nonstop about every single decision my sister and Tony have made about this wedding, but damn if she’s not going to put on a good show for the audience.

  “I didn’t think I could love you more than I do,” I whisper to Jenna as we both find our places at the table. “But holy shit. You are a goddess.”

  Jenna gives me that grin, and I fall a little deeper. “I know.”

  Then she kisses me, right there in front of everyone, and if anyone’s staring neither of us give a damn. I kiss her after that. We hug and laugh and I look into her eyes.

  “I love you,” I tell her again.

  Jenna grins. “Good. Because I love the hell out of you, and we’re both going to figure out exactly what that means and what we’re going to do about it. But first…let’s dance.”

  Then she takes my hand and leads me to the dance floor, so there’s no more time for talking. But that’s fine. We’ll have all the time in the world to get ourselves figured out.

  And it’s going to be perfect.

  Also by Megan Hart

  All the Lies We Tell

  All the Secrets We Keep

  A Heart Full of Stars

  Always You

  Broken

  Castle in the Sand

  Clearwater

  Crossing the Line

  Deeper

  Dirty

  Don’t Deny Me

  Everything Changes

  Every Part of You

  Flying

  Hold Me Close

  Indecent Experiment

  Lovely Wild

  Naked

  Out of the Dark

  Passion Model

  Precious and Fragile Things

  Reawakened Passions

  Ride with the Devil

  Selfish is the Heart

  Stranger

  Stumble into Love

  Switch

  Tear You Apart

  Tempted

  The Darkest Embrace

  The Favor

  The Resurrected: Compendium

  The Space Between Us

  Vanilla

  About the Author

  I was born and then I lived awhile. Then I did some stuff and other things. Now, I mostly write books. Some of them use a lot of bad words, but most of the other words are okay.

  I can’t live without music, the internet, or the ocean, but I have kicked the Coke Zero habit. I can’t stand the feeling of corduroy or velvet, and modern art leaves me cold. I write a little bit of everything from horror to romance, and I don’t answer to the name “Meg.”

&n
bsp; Megan Hart is a USA Today, Publisher’s Weekly and New York Times bestselling author who writes in many genres including mainstream fiction, erotic fiction, science fiction, romance, fantasy and horror. If you liked this book, please tell everyone you love to buy it. If you hated it, please tell everyone you hate to buy it.

  Find me here!

  www.meganhart.com

  readinbed@gmail.com