Page 66 of Most Likely to Deny Love (Yearbook #2)

JACK

I adjusted my tie for what felt like the hundredth time, watching the dance floor from my seat at the corner table. The reception was in full swing, fairy lights twinkling overhead and champagne flowing freely.

There were a hundred and fifty people in this room, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of Mia. My wife.

The pale blue bridesmaid dress fit Mia’s curves to perfection, the silk complementing her skin tone and making her gorgeous gray eyes more luminous. There was no denying it. My wife was fucking hot.

As I watched, she laughed at something Megan said, the sisters sharing a moment of genuine connection that would have been unthinkable six months ago.

“You’re staring again,” Emily remarked, slipping into the empty chair beside me with a fresh glass of wine.

“Can you blame me?” I grinned, not taking my eyes off Mia.

“Fair point. She looks incredible. Blue is definitely her color.”

Mia looked up then, catching me watching her. She smiled, that perfect, radiant smile that never failed to make heart skip a beat, and excused herself to cross the room to my side.

“Hey, handsome.” She slid onto my lap without hesitation, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “Getting tired of all the wedding excitement?”

“Just enjoying the view,” I slipped my arm around her waist, pulling her closer. “You’re the most beautiful woman here. Sorry, bride included.”

Emily stood up with an exaggerated eye roll. “And that’s my cue to leave before you two start making out. Try to remember you’re at your sister’s wedding, Mia.” She winked at us before sauntering away, calling over her shoulder, “Save me a dance later, Jack!”

I spotted Helen across the room, deep in conversation with Monica. When she glanced our way, I felt Mia tense slightly on my lap. A moment later, Helen was making her way toward us, wine glass clutched tightly in her hand. Mia quickly slid off my lap, and we both stood to greet her.

“Mia, Jack,” Helen greeted, her smile tight around the edges. She clutched her own wine glass like a lifeline.

“Mom,” Mia nodded. “Beautiful wedding.”

“Yes,” Helen agreed, her eyes darting between us. “Everything turned out perfectly.”

An awkward silence fell. Helen took a too-large sip of her wine, nearly choking on it.

“The ceremony was lovely,” I offered, trying to ease the tension.

Helen nodded, seemingly grateful for the conversational lifeline. “Yes, the flowers were exactly what Megan wanted. And the music was...” She trailed off, visibly struggling to maintain small talk.

Then her eyes flicked briefly to Mia’s figure, then away. I tensed, waiting for the inevitable critique. But it didn’t come. Instead, Helen seemed to be having some sort of internal struggle, her knuckles white around her wine glass. “The bridesmaid’s dresses turned out well.”

“Do you think so?” There was a hint of disbelief in Mia’s voice.

“Yes. That color is perfect for you.”

“Um, thank you.”

Helen flushed, clearly writhing in discomfort. She cleared her throat. “Anyway, I should check on Megan. I’m sure she needs something.”

With that, she hurried away, leaving Mia staring after her with a mixture of confusion and surprise.

“What just happened?” Mia whispered.

I pressed a kiss to her temple. “I believe your mother just tried to give you a compliment, and almost choked on it.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought happened. Fuck, that is weird.”

“Good weird or bad weird?”

She considered this, watching her mom fuss with Megan’s train across the room. “No,” she admitted. “Not bad weird. Just... new.”

I squeezed her waist gently. “Progress.”

“Small steps,” she agreed, then broke into a smile. “Now, are you going to dance with your wife, or do I need to find another willing victim?”

“I think I can be persuaded.” I set my drink down and took her hand. “Though I warn you, dancing isn’t my strong suit.”

“Good thing I’m not married to you for your dance moves, then.”

I laughed, leading her toward the dance floor. “What did you marry me for, exactly?”

Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Well, there was this rumor about ten inches...”

“Mia!” I choked out, glancing around to make sure no one had heard.

She giggled, wrapping her arms around my neck pressing herself against me. I held her close as we swayed to the music, just breathing her in.

“Something on your mind?” Mia asked, her cheek resting against my chest.

I pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Just thinking about how lucky I am. How perfect this is.”

“Aaw, that’s nice.”

And it was perfect. Not because everything was magically fixed.

Helen would likely slip up, old patterns would resurface, there would be more difficult conversations ahead.

But Mia was in my arms, strong and radiant and completely herself.

We’d weathered worse storms than family drama, and we’d weather whatever came next.

Together.

Mia lifted her head, her eyes soft in the dim light. She reached up, pulling my head down to hers, and kissed me deeply, right there in the middle of the dance floor.

“I love you, Jack Sullivan,” she whispered against my lips.

I tightened my arms around her, feeling the familiar surge of wonder that this incredible woman was mine. “I love you too, Mia Sullivan. Always will.”

If you want to find out exactly what Jack does to Mia on their Italian honeymoon click here!

And if you fell in love with loyal, stubborn, gorgeous Emily, you can order your copy of Most Likely to Doubt Love here . Who is that mystery grumpy neighbor, anyway? Find out soon! soon!