Kiss the Bride (10 page)

“I'm Jenna with Picture Perfect Photography. I received a call from Amber Vance to meet her here.”

“Oh, yes, Amber. Such a delightful, glamorous bride.” The woman motioned to a gold velvet curtain. “She's in one of the dressing areas. Follow me, please.”

Jenna did, and had to keep herself from staring at the couture dresses on display. The kind of gowns seen in bridal magazines.

Behind the curtain, an exotic scent—a mix of jasmine and sandalwood—wafted in the air. Perfume or potpourri? Classical music played, a quartet doing their version of the quintessential wedding music, Pachelbel's Canon in D. She expected to hear a cork pop and the clink of crystal champagne flutes.

So not her world, and that was okay. She enjoyed this glimpse into how others lived.

The woman knocked once on a door. “Your photographer has arrived.”

“Make sure Jenna has her camera ready.” Amber sounded as if she'd forgotten how to breathe.

“Putting the lens on now.” Jenna stood at the door. “I'm ready.”

“Come in,” Amber called.

Camera in hand, Jenna opened the door and stepped into a large room with two loveseats. Heavy gold curtains cut the room in half. The elaborate dressing room decor fit Amber's personality perfectly. “I'm inside.”

The curtains opened.

Amber stood on a carpeted platform in front of three floor-to-ceiling mirrors. Her sleeveless wedding gown was Westminster Abbey–worthy. Intricate beading and lace covered the dress. The skirt's cathedral train cascaded down two steps.

Jenna's breath caught. “You look like a princess bride.”

Amber spun with her arms out. The action made her
look like a little girl, not a woman about to say I do. “I feel like royalty in this dress.”

“It's perfect for you.” Jenna raised her camera and clicked off shots.

Amber worked hard to present a rich-girl image. She traveled across the Cascades to shop at the top Seattle department stores and boutiques. This dress was stunning, not as high fashion as Jenna would have imagined, but the whimsical, fairy-tale design truly suited the bride-to-be. The elaborate lace veil topped by a rhinestone tiara was a perfect match. “I love it.”

“Thank you!” Strands of hair artfully fell from Amber's updo, softening her face. Just beautiful.

“Let's get some shots using your reflection in the mirrors.”

Amber struck a pose. “I hope they turn out.”

“They will.”

A knock sounded at the door. “May I come in?”

“Ash!” Amber squealed. “He was in a meeting so I left a message. I didn't think he'd make it.”

The door opened. He looked at his sister and froze. “Wow. Just wow.”

The expression on his face was half stunned, half amazed. Jenna took his picture, liking the contrast between his tailored gray suit, white dress shirt and red tie, and his look of awe.

Amber swished the skirt of her dress. “You like?”

“I love. You're beautiful. Stunning.” Walking farther into the room, he wiped his eyes. “I can't believe my little sister is going to be a bride. Seeing you in the dress makes it real.”

The raw emotion in his voice brought a softball-size lump to Jenna's throat, but she maintained her composure and took a picture of Ash and Amber hugging.

Amber's gaze returned to her reflection. No doubt she wanted another glimpse of herself in the dress. “The saleswoman said having my brother here wasn't normal, but I told her you were my best friend and I wanted you to see it first. Well, second, after Jenna.”

“First.” She lifted her camera. “I'm the photographer. I don't count.”

“Yes, you do,” Ash said. “I'm happy to be here with both of you.”

Jenna stood taller, a silly reaction, but something about him, in spite of everything, got to her. If Cupid was shooting arrows, his aim was getting better—and that worried her. Time to get out of here before she took a direct hit.

“Well, I've taken enough pictures.” She took her camera apart as if defusing a ticking bomb, carefully, but quickly. “I'll get out of your way so you can have time alone.”

Amber's smile disappeared. “Oh, I was hoping you could join us for lunch.”

“I'm sorry,” Jenna said. “But a client is picking up photos at noon.”

Amber's brow arched. “Are you free later in the week? I'd like to show you the church and reception site so you can get ideas for group shots.”

Jenna glanced at the calendar on her cell phone. “I have time on Thursday or Friday.”

“Great, I'll text you.” Amber's smile returned. “Thanks for taking the photographs.”

“Least I can do for one of my brides.” Jenna glanced at Ash, only to find him looking at her. A spurt of anticipation was her cue to leave. “I'll see myself out.”

She escaped so quickly she hoped no one noticed. But she had to do something. Ash was already on her mind. She couldn't allow him back into her heart.

Ash stood outside Westside Christian Church on
Thursday morning. Amber's wedding was a week from Saturday. He hoped the weather would improve.

The gray stone church seemed to disappear into the overcast sky. The weather resembled wintertime, but rainstorms were not unusual in June. The air had changed since he'd arrived at work earlier. He smelled rain. A downpour was on the way. The question was when. Sooner or later?

Maybe he should cancel.

He rolled his shoulders, trying to loosen tight muscles. Amber had gone Bridezilla. A slight exaggeration, but the wedding was affecting her brain and thought process. Otherwise she would have never asked him to meet Jenna where he'd broken up with her.

Big mistake. Then and now.

He should have said no to his sister. He would have, except he wanted to see Jenna. Badly. A few minutes after
church on Sunday or at the bridal salon earlier in the week hadn't been enough. He would have never agreed to brunch if he'd known she wasn't going. He'd skipped the singles group meeting since he knew she wouldn't be there.

Ash checked his cell phone. Almost time. Too late to back out. He tapped his toe, the knot in his stomach growing by the second.

“Hey.” Lines creased Jenna's forehead. “Where are Amber and Toby?”

“Neither could make it. They asked me to show you around.”

“Oh.”

The one word didn't tell Ash much. The tight lines around the corners of her mouth did. She wasn't happy with the change of plans. He didn't blame her.

“Don't you have to work?” she asked.

“I put in enough hours that my boss doesn't mind if I take a morning off. Ready?”

She nodded.

Ash opened the door to the church. “Westside hasn't changed much.”

He expected Jenna to show some emotion stepping inside.

She entered without hesitation, then pulled out a lighting sensor and her camera. “I need to take readings.”

He sat in a pew. Better than following her around like Peaches the puppy, even if he wanted to do that. “I'll wait here.”

Jenna walked up the center aisle the way she had at their rehearsal. Except he wasn't waiting for her at the front with his heart lodged in his throat.

She measured the lighting and took pictures, then headed down the far side. She climbed the stairs to the balcony used for overflow seating.

“Stand in front of the altar, please,” she called down.

He did. Memories of the time when he'd stood here with Jenna by his side hit like a fastball to a batter's helmet. The disintegration of his political aspirations had eaten away at him and made him nauseous. He'd known he couldn't go through with the wedding. He'd needed to take action, place blame, save face.

So he'd broken up with Jenna, then and there, not privately, but publicly, in front of family and friends. What had he been thinking? Gossip had spread like a wildfire. Not about him—everyone had taken his side—but about Jenna.

“Move a foot to your right,” she instructed from above.

He did. “How's this?”

“Perfect. Stay there.”

A minute later, she walked up the aisle. She aimed the lens at him. “Smile.”

“Why do you want my picture?”

“To test the lighting. You could be a groom in your dark suit and tie.”

He glanced down at himself. “Work clothes.”

“Well, I can Photoshop in a bride and make this look like a real wedding.” Her playful tone made him wonder if she'd put the past behind her. “Do you have a request for who she should be?”

You.

His heart slammed against his chest. The answer was
so clear he thought he'd spoken the word aloud. She didn't appear to have heard him, so maybe he hadn't. A good thing.

Forget being friends. All this time he still wanted her. Only her.

He wanted Jenna to be his bride. Was it too late for a second chance?

Ash had his family, a great job, money, and his health. God had been good to him. Was it okay to ask for more . . . for Jenna?

“I've got what I need here.” She lowered her camera. “Where to next?”

Ash cleared his dry throat. “The country club.”

Half an hour later, he walked the grounds with Jenna. The darkening skies overshadowed the manicured lawns, trimmed shrubs, and tall trees.

She took a picture, then wrote in a small spiral pad.

“Any ideas?” he asked.

“A few.”

“Dinosaurs?”

“Being chased by a T. rex is fun, but overdone. So is having groomsmen as superheroes beneath their tuxes. I'm trying to think fresh. Maybe something
Star Wars
–related with the upcoming new movie release or flying sharks. That's the beauty of Photoshop. Lots of options.”

“I can't wait to see what you come up with.”

“Me too.”

She pointed to her left. “The gazebo will be a nice spot for photos.”

“At night they turn on miniature white lights.”

“That must be lovely.” She took a picture of the gazebo. “It's pretty enough in the daylight.”

“Not with the gray skies.”

“The weather is perfect for photographs. No shadows or backlighting. Nice contrast between the green grass and white wood.” She snapped more pictures. “If you want constant sun, move to Arizona.”

The clouds opened up. Big, fat raindrops fell.

Jenna covered her camera with her shirt and dashed to the gazebo. He followed.

The roof protected them from the downpour, but they were already wet. Water dripped from her ponytail. She dried her camera with the underside of her shirt.

He shook water from his hair. A good thing he'd ditched his suit jacket after visiting the church. His shirt would dry faster.

Rain pelted the roof, coming down harder. Thunder sounded. Jenna shivered.

“Cold?”

“Wet. I'll dry.” Jenna wore a camera strap across her body. She checked the display. “But I don't think we're going anywhere for a while.”

He didn't mind spending more time with her. “Is your camera okay?”

“Yes, thanks for asking.” She stepped toward him and raised his tie. “This didn't fare as well.”

Water splotches darkened the plum fabric. “The puppy drool dried. Rain will too.”

“This is your fault for mentioning the gray skies.” Jenna smiled.

“You brought up Arizona.”

Another clap of thunder sounded. She stepped closer to him. “We're both to blame.”

He placed his hand on her shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze. “We're safe here.”

Jenna hadn't let go of his tie. She nodded.

“You'd rather be inside.”

She nodded.

“You don't like storms.”

“Hate them.”

He hadn't known that. “Why?”

She stared at the wood floor.

“Tell me, please.”

“One time, Colton and I were left alone during a thunderstorm. Driving rain. High winds. The electricity went out. A tree branch hit the house. Everything shook. A window broke. Scary when you're a little kid.”

“Or a big one.” Ash raised her chin with his fingertip. “Jenna . . .”

Her eyes were bright and warm. So beautiful.

His heartbeat rivaled the rumble of thunder.

She parted her lips.

An invitation? Ash needed to find out. He lowered his head.

She met him halfway and kissed him.

Warm and sweet. Jenna's kiss took him to the place he'd forgotten—home. He wrapped his arms around her. She went eagerly toward him, as if they hadn't been apart for two minutes, let alone the past two years. She fit against him perfectly. Her hands moved up his neck, and she wove her
fingers in his hair. He soaked up the taste and feel of her as if he might not get this chance again.

Ash had missed this, but more importantly, he'd missed her. He wanted Jenna in his life. Today, tomorrow, always.

The way she kissed back suggested she might feel the same way.
Thank you, God.
Maybe Ash hadn't messed up completely. But he couldn't afford to make any mistakes.