Free The Wedding Chapel by Rachel Hauck

and when her laugh kissed his ear, the growl in his chest silenced. “What are you doing in New York City? And it’s Forester. Gillingham was my foster parents’ name.” He stepped back, letting her go, but not wanting to as the cold claimed the spot on his chest where her warmth had radiated.
    “I’m here now.” She patted her photo bag. “I moved from LA in June.”
    “Why? Because all that sunshine was getting on your nerves?”
    She laughed again, and his ad man brain said if he could bottle that sound, he’d be a billionaire. “Needed a change of scenery. A friend lined up a couple of jobs and wham, I loaded up and drove across the country.”
    “How’s ole Heart’s Bend? Have you been lately?”
    “Christmas. And it’s fine. My granny’s not doing well, but it was . . .” She shrugged, a slight sadness invading her tone. “You? Been back lately?”
    “Naw, work keeps me busy. I’m an ad exec for 105.” The snow thickened and he detected a blue shiver on her lips.
    “105? Very nice. I’d love to get some work with them. But I hear Hops Williams is a bear to manage.”
    “He is, but if you know a few tricks . . .” He winked, loving her responding smile. “Say, I’m freezing. Can I buy you a cup of coffee? Tea? Something?”
    “Well . . .” She glanced skyward, assessing the snow clouds, then back at Jack. “My job just canceled on me. But what’s behind the door marked ‘Something’?”
    She captured him. Right then and there. “Lunch?”
    “Perfect. I’m starved.”
    Lunch turned to window shopping, a stop at a café, and then dinner. Then a meet-up for coffee in the morning. Dinner again. Dinner every night, actually, until their spontaneous wedding.
    “Jack?” Taylor’s touch ended the memory. “You were working?”
    “Yeah, sorry, I meant to call. How’d your day go?” Didn’t she have a shoot or something? Right, for Always Tomorrow . Brought to her by the arrogant Doug Voss.
    “Fine.” Her answer, in quick movements. “The Always Tomorrow shoot went well. Saw Colette.”
    “Yeah, what’d she say?”
    “Nothing really. I mean, we’re like strangers. Same blood in our veins, but that’s about it. Though Addison thought we looked alike.”
    “The power of suggestion. It’s an ad man’s best tool.”
    “And why we think a pill can make us skinny.”
    She leaned near him and he exhaled a bit of his anger, but not enough to move him from the edge. He was comfortable there. Lived most of his life there. “Did she say anything about your granny’s death?”
    “Nope. She introduced me to one of her costars as her niece, but otherwise you’d never know we were family. Oh, Jack, she’s gorgeous. Looks like she’s still seventy.”
    “How old is she?”
    “A year younger than Granny. So, eighty-two?”
    “Hmm. Probably took a pill to keep her young.”
    Taylor bumped him with her hip. “Very funny.”
    “What’d you decide about Voss?” The edge was back in his voice. He heard it. He felt it.
    She stepped back. “What do you mean, what did I decide?”
    “Are you shooting the Emmys?”
    “Really, Jack? You’d want me to go to LA with Doug?”
    “It’s a job.” He heard himself. And he sounded stupid. But he wanted to be confident. Let her know he could handle whatever came his way. “I don’t have anything to worry about, do I?” If she still had feelings for Voss in some way, then by all means, let them surface.
    “You can’t be serious.” He felt the heat of her sigh. “Jack, why don’t you tell me what’s wrong?”
    “Nothing.”
    She slid to the right, away from him. “By the way, the Architecture Quarterly people called. Thanks for the job. Said they needed me next weekend. Guess where?”
    “LA?” Sarcasm was his default.
    “Okay, Jack, fine.” Taylor turned for the door. “Be out here brooding by yourself. I don’t have time for this.”
    “Taylor, wait.” He reached for her, his fingertips brushing the soft underside of her