The Strings That Hold Us Together

by Kendra Mase

  Hesitating only a split second, Jack noticed as her hands pause before settling themselves on the bride’s wrists.

  “I can help. But I need you to take a deep breath for me, okay?” Kit asked, though by the looks of it, the bride’s face was more likely to implode, a pinkness taking over her entire face from her cheeks to her forehead. “We need to get you down the aisle, and we don’t want to wreck your makeup. It looks gorgeous. This is just a little zipper problem.”

  “It broke,” the bridesmaid, still beholding the damage, stammered.

  The bride turned back to Kit; teeth clenched. “Are you telling me I’m too fat for my dress?”

  “No, no,” Kit spoke quickly, hearing the sniff of the woman. Her voice turned soft and soothing in a way Jack hadn’t heard from Kit before. Strong and in control. “My name is Kit, and I’m a… seamstress. These things happen. It wasn’t you or anything, the zipper just got caught on itself is all, like when you’re a kid and your jacket doesn’t go up after tugging on it?”

  The bride nodded, understanding.

  “You’re going to be fine though, okay, don’t move. I have a kit here in my bag I am going to get. We’re going to fix it.”

  Kit with her kit.

  “How? Are you going to fix the zipper?”

  “Nope,” Kit said pertly, taking this chance to stalk back behind the bride, dropping her tote bag covered in dull faded quotes and illustrated florals at her feet. She rummaged through it before pulling out a small sewing hit.

  Of course, it was still bigger than any travel size. As if the implements inside were weapons, she whipped out a needle, swiftly stringing it as she compared to different spools that appeared to be the same shade of white to the dress. Narrowing her eyes, she fixed her glasses farther up her nose.

  She concentrated with a huff, the spring finally going through. Three times the charm.

  “We are just going to sew you into the dress,” Kit said with a light smile.

  Jack said nothing, lifting his camera again away from his stomach, focusing it on her and the bride as she worked.

  “You definitely won’t have to worry about your dress or anything else going anywhere tonight,” Kit added. “It will surely make ripping it off later tonight all the more thrilling too.”

  A few of the ladies giggled, including the bride, who choked back a sniffle.

  Jack smiled at the exchange as Kit handed the bride a tissue to catch any misplaced tears. “Better it be your dress a little ruined than the day, right? Now, stand still.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Mhm,” Kit answered as she rounded her lips together. She motioned for the bridesmaids again to hold the dress in the correct position.

  “What kind of seamstress did you say you were again?”

  Pinching together the fabric, Kit began to weave the broken dress back together, a white shell becoming whole.

  Before she could answer, Jack spoke up. A few glanced, forgetting he was there. “Kit works in lingerie design.”

  The bride’s smoky eyes widened in delight. “Really?”

  Kit bit off a piece of string, still focused as she nodded. “I scandalize people wherever I go.”

  Jack barked a laugh.

  She glanced up at the sound, as if shocked that she made it come out of him. “Well, I can’t beat ‘em like you, Jack. I just joined ‘em.”

  Yeah, he guessed she did.

  “You’ll have to tell us where you work then for our next bachelorette party,” the bride said. “People do that with lingerie, right?”

  The others in the room murmured their agreement.

  “I’ll leave a card for you,” Kit said, but it didn’t look like she was fully listening anymore. Her eyes were only on her work, hands moving as if she’d found her way around a shredded wedding dress a hundred times before.

  Kit kneeled as she worked, slowly stitching broken things together.

  The camera clicked with the shutter as Jack lifted his camera up and took the photo.

  Glancing upward, Kit narrowed her eyes at him.

  He looked left and right around the room. Where the hell did the sound come from?

  Where did this woman in front of him come from? At the beginning of the week, she was quiet and demure. Now she sat on her knees and took over. The image clouded his thoughts at how she laughed just as loud alongside him all day, making fun of him, even.

  Now this.

  Hiding his face, trying to focus on his own work, Jack took another picture to capture whatever it was in front of him.

  When Kit was finished, she combed through the tiny pieces of hair stuck to her forehead. “There.”

  “That’s it?”

  “You should be set to marry the love of your life.”

  “Thank you. Thank you so much, you are a lifesaver.”

  Kit hid her timid grin as she looked down. Carefully, as if there was a set order to her organized mess, she stuffed everything back into her embroidered pouch of emergency sewing supplies.

  As if on cue, the mother of the bride stumbled back through the doorway. She glanced down at Kit. “Finally, something that works today. Let’s go, everyone. Chop-chop. Time to start.”

  Bridesmaids gathered. They pulled their pastel bouquets tight into their chests. The others smoothed out the bride, fixing hair and holding up the train on their way down the hall.

  Jack adjusted alongside Kit, dropping a pair of ornate tiny scissors she left on the floor back into her pouch. “Very smooth.”

  With a zip, her supplies dropped back into her bag. “It was nothing.”

  “No,” Jack said, again taking a moment to do what he hadn’t yet since he saw her wilted on the kitchen floor. He looked her up and down. He felt the pinch of sharpness before settling into something sweet, like cinnamon sugar. The sensation coated his mouth. “It wasn’t.”

  Jack got to work. Without pausing, he maneuvered seamlessly through different sections for the ceremony, knowing where people would look and where they wouldn’t. Though this wasn’t what he dreamed of when he thought he wanted to be a photographer, he still managed to be good at it.

  That’s what mattered.

  He took photos with an expression in mind. He watched for when a face began to lift, and vows were being said. He caught it all, shoving down a cousin’s phone lifted up in his way as he went with a dirty look. The bride traveled up the aisle and traveled back down to cheers as she gripped her newlywed husband’s hand, which was a good thing, considering he looked a bit lopsided.

  Peeking over his shoulder, Jack caught Kit near the back. She clapped with the rest before her gaze met his. Raising her hands a little higher, she gave him a small round of applause as well.

  He returned a gentle bow before trailing out with the rest of the group to the rooftop. He continued on his mission, rearranging and posing the bridal party—and then reposing again when the mother of the bride insisted on something different—until he had so many pictures of the oversized group, the toasts, and reception partiers shooting shots back, he was nervous about the number of memory cards he brought for his camera. Only once did he experience an instance where there wasn’t enough space to hold them all.

  Grabbing a glass of water off the table, Jack slammed it back, setting it on another tray as he caught a rather puffy pink dress standing outside near the edge of the rooftop. “So, how is it so far?”

  “Not too bad.” Awe crossed her face as she inhaled, looking out over the city. Her arms balanced on the ledge.

  It was definitely a view from here, now dark and sparkling.

  “So, this is it.”

  “How do you like it?”

  “I can’t believe that I went so long without seeing any of it,” Katherine admitted, wistful. “It’s beautiful. To think only last year, I had no plans, no idea that I would end up here. With you.”

  “Yeah, every mother’s dream.”

  “What do you mean?” Kit asked, confusion trailing like a snake around ea
ch word, constricting.

  Jack glanced back down at his camera. His finger traced the shutter button as he shook his head. “Nothing. I know the feeling.”

  Pulling his camera off his neck, a cool chill of air caught where the strap pressed.

  “Let’s dance.”

  “What?” Kit looked down at her hand. He promptly lifted it into his. “Are you sure? We’re going to get in trouble.”

  “Nah, what will they do? Kick the camera guy out before they cut the cake?”

  “There’s cake?”

  “Later.”

  She huffed. Fine.

  He barked a laugh at how easily she was convinced. “I’ve been told I’m a pretty good dancer.”

  Leading her onto the crowded dance floor in the center of the room inside, the temperature changed, sticking to wherever his white shirt pressed against skin. He raised his dark eyebrows, but it was as good as any smile. He gave her hand a quick tug.

  She fell into him with a yelp. “You know, I’m not sure I’ve ever really danced before.”

  “Now that might be the saddest thing I ever heard.”

  Kit shook her head. “Not with someone.”

  “Still pretty sad,” Jack murmured as he rocked on either foot, side to side.

  Kit remained as stiff as a board. One hand drifting to either side of her waist, Jack felt her shiver under his touch, though that could’ve just been a layer of—what was it again, crinoline? He tried to guide her hips one way and then the other.

  “Loosen up.”

  Her face scrunched. “It feels awkward.”

  “How?”

  “Like...” She looked around. “I feel like everyone’s eyes are on me.”

  “The only eyes you should be worrying about are mine, Kit.”

  “I’m not sure that makes me feel any better.”

  His eyes flared, and his right hand trailed around her to her lower back. It didn’t look like she was paying attention to what he was doing anymore as she looked around. With his other hand, he turned her chin back to him.

  Eyes on me, Kitten, Jack wanted to say.

  Instead, he cleared his throat, eradicating the words. “Have you never seen Dirty Dancing?”

  “I live with Emilie. What do you think?”

  “Well, for someone who has seen Dirty Dancing at least a half dozen times at this point, I would have thought you’d be better at this. Didn’t you practice the moves alongside Patrick Swayze?”

  “Did you?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You act like I should deny it. We are going to have to get some fishnet tights and some fifties music in here if we are going to make a popper mambo-er out of you.”

  “Emilie also must have a few of those things lying around.”

  “She rarely disappoints,” Jack agreed.

  Kit began to relax at that thought. Slowly, she swayed over her toes. It was also rare that he found someone so perfectly his own height. Often enough, Jack found himself looking up at his partner, not that it ever bothered him. But this, this was nice.

  His eyes narrowed as he looked for something similar in his partner’s expression. “Something wrong?”

  She shook her head. “I’m glad I found Emilie. Like I said, and you say, she’s wonderful. My only family, even if she did feel obligated to take me in.”

  “Why do you keep saying stuff like that?”

  “Like what?”

  “Like no one wants you around. Like you’re all alone in the world,” Jack said.

  Kit shrugged like she did before, unsure as she let him pull her body against his. They continued to sway to the music as she aired her thoughts, letting him take her wherever he wanted to go which oddly enough was closer and closer to him until her breaths truly had nowhere to hide.

  A realization with the twinge of cold frostbite slid through his veins.

  She really thought she was alone. She probably thought she was good at it, and now he suddenly wanted to prove her wrong.

  He gave her a twirl like he did earlier in the art gallery. Though this was no tango, it was just them. He pulled her back in, flush to him as he easily slid a leg between hers. To keep them both balanced, of course.

  “Emilie didn’t take you in because she felt like she had to, you know?” Jack said. “She thought right away you had talent. From what I’ve seen at Rosin, I have to agree with her.”

  Kit narrowed her eyes at him and let her head fall back. “When did you talk to Emilie?”

  Jack paused for a beat but didn’t miss one as he led. “Before you came. I picked up a few packages so Emilie wouldn’t have to take the trip out to DuCain. She was getting things ready for you to come and needed help opening the couch bed. It was so rusted at the joints. Emilie couldn’t remember the last person who slept on it.”

  Kit gave a small smile. Finally, her hips were loose as they danced.

  “Jack?”

  He hadn’t taken his eyes off hers.

  “Why don’t you go home?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The day at the café, you talked about your family, and how you talk about Emilie, well, why don’t you go back to visit them? What happened after you ran away that was so horrible that you couldn’t go back? You made Ashton your home, but unlike me, you have somewhere else to go to, don’t you?”

  Breathing air through his teeth, at that, Jack glanced away for a second. “It’s a long story.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Why are you so interested?”

  “I dare you.”

  “Are we still playing?” Jack asked, rocking into her again with each steady beat as the song turned into another. “Because for some reason, I think it’s my turn, not yours.”

  Now her eyes were only on his, if he hadn’t caught her attention before. A tiny bead of sweat collected on her jaw. He wanted to lift his hand and brush it away. He wanted to dip his mouth and let his lips graze right there—and if it was anyone else, maybe he would’ve.

  Jack watched it tremor and curl under her chin as she spoke. “I thought you liked to play. Or do you not do that on dates?”

  The question was out of her mouth, and he saw her regret it immediately.

  “Even if I am a fake wedding date.”

  “You’re right,” Jack said. “If this was a real date, Kitten, you’d know it by now.”

  Though maybe he wasn’t even sure. Not all the way. As her eyes flared up at him, the thick sweetness he only knew as desire now coated his tongue again, his mouth. His eyes flicked to her lips.

  “Excuse me, but we are not paying you to enjoy our celebration,” a voice cut in.

  Immediately, Kit pushed back, faltering in balance as she stepped away. Her eyes widened before she swallowed, chastised.

  The mother of the bride snapped at them, her bird’s nest falling toward the one side of her head from where it was earlier. Jack took a step back away from Kit as well, though his hand lingered right on the inside of her wrist where her heartbeat fluttered.

  He felt the moment Kit’s stomach sank. He felt it in his own, like he had been called to the dean’s office at school after getting them to sign his papers to leave the institute. They looked at him with even less disdain than the mother of the bride did now, while the dean told him how disappointed they were in him after they took a chance.

  A flash of anger pulsed right back through him, knowing the exact heavy feeling rolling through her.

  Shame.

  “Of course, ma’am. Was just giving my good camera some time to recharge before they cut the cake, unless you would like me to leave early?”

  She glanced between the two of them before looking away. “I see.”

  Jack raised his dark eyebrows toward his camera as he clicked the screen back on. “Right, well. Looks like it is all good now. I better get back to work.”

  “I’m, uh,” Kit stammered before collecting herself. She took one deep breath as she looked away from Jack, both of them retreating from the edge of the
dance floor. “I’ll be right back.”

  He’d be here, but he didn’t get to say it before she made her way, slipping into the crowds. He glared at the back of the mother of the bride’s head, already tilting her head back as she laughed like a hyena with another guest.

  Lifting the camera, Jack zoomed in on her mouth and took a picture, all while hearing Avril in the back of his mind.

  Karma’s a bitch, Avril often said whenever she managed to keep her mouth shut and smile.

  He did the same right now. Maybe karma would be, but for now, Jack rolled his eyes and focused on the other side of the venue where the open bar was. He got a pat on the back when he took a shot of tequila and slugged it back with an older gentleman. He hated tequila, but…

  Fuck her.

  Chapter Twelve

  Reaching for a towel, Katherine let water pool over her fingers before she tapped it against her forehead. She just danced with Jack. He danced with her and his body was against hers as her heart pounded.

  It might’ve been the best moment of her life.

  Best days. Period. And not just in Ashton.

  She shut her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them, she met her flat brown eyes in the mirror. She was nothing special, but she felt like she was, if only for a second, when she was with Jack. Maybe this date—no, it definitely is not a date. She already went through this with herself and then again from him, however nice he was about it.

  Glancing to the door, she paused as she caught two different pairs of feet under the corner stall.

  Meeting her eyes again in the mirror, her mouth was parted in an oh.

  Right, probably best if she got out before—

  The couple pushed out through the flimsy metal door, flushed and tugging at their clothes. Only, it wasn’t just any couple in the hotel. Eyes widening, she recognized these two, though it obviously was not mutual. Snapping her mouth closed that had dropped open in shock, Katherine threw the paper towel away before her hands were dry. They slipped helplessly on the door handle before she got it open.

  The two chuckled behind her. He buttoned up his shirt while she adjusted the recently won garter high on her thigh.