Kiss the Bride (11 page)

Not a second time.

He wanted to get closer but drew the kiss to an end.

Her eyes were wide, her face flushed, and her lips swollen. Beautiful, but Jenna's true beauty came from the inside.

She blinked. “What—”

Ash placed his finger against her lips. “Shhh.”

“We kissed.”

She was adorable. “Yes, we did.”

“But we're not a couple.”

“Not yet.”

Worry filled her eyes. “Ash . . .”

“This is unexpected.” But welcome. “The rain isn't letting up, so let's figure out what's going on and what we want to do about it.”

Jenna started to speak, then stopped. “Okay.”

That was more than he'd hoped to hear. He'd expected a no. Hope surged. There must have been a reason he hadn't thrown away her wedding gift. He fought the urge to kiss her again. He had to be patient, careful. This time things would work out between them. He was positive.

Sitting on the floor of the gazebo, sheets of water falling from the sky, Jenna leaned back on her hands to keep from touching her mouth. Her lips tingled. Her body missed Ash's warmth. And worse, she wanted another kiss.

Crazy, or a smart way to forget about the storm? She couldn't decide.

No doubt crazy.

The rain wasn't letting up. Lightning streaked the sky. Thunder boomed. She inched closer to Ash.

Fear. Not attraction. At least that was what she told herself.

“So what did you want to talk about?” Jenna asked.

“Us.”

“O-kay.” But she wasn't. Her fingernails dug into the narrow space between the floorboards. She crossed her legs and raised her chin. Maybe she would look more confident than she felt.

Ash took a breath, then exhaled slowly.

Nerve endings stood at attention. Too bad they weren't soldiers who could protect her. Well, her heart. She worried nothing could now.

“I've been doing a lot of thinking. I realize I messed up long before I didn't believe you.” Regret dripped from his words like the water running down the gazebo's support beams. “When we met, I started dating you for the right reasons, but everything got mixed up with the campaign.”

That wasn't what she'd thought he was going to say. “The campaign?”

“Yeah.” He scrubbed his face with his hand as if trying
to wipe off dirt. “Running for office took over my life. Everything I did was questioned to the minute detail. From what I wore to who I dated.”

“You mean me.”

He nodded.

She knew where this was going now. “I was a liability.”

“No, you were an asset.”

Jenna drew back. “Your father—”

“Your working-class background was a boon to the polls. Voters related to you in a way they couldn't with my family.”

Jenna appreciated his honesty, though his words stung. “Who would have ever thought I could be considered a trophy wife?”

He gave a half-hearted laugh.

Good, she thought. They needed to keep their senses of humor.

Ash drew imaginary circles on the wood. “Seeing you again made me realize the glossy election flier with the photo of the perfect-together engaged couple was no more real than two people who had only dated a few months finding themselves pushed to settle down before the primary election. I'm . . . sorry.”

“Me too.” Jenna rubbed her thumb over her fingertips. She didn't look Ash in the eyes. He wasn't the only guilty party. “The whole reason I attended your church's singles group was to make contacts in another part of town. I wasn't looking for a boyfriend, but a higher-end clientele. When we started dating, my business took off with new customers. The additional income made life
easier for once. Only everything blew up after you called off the wedding. My new clients disappeared. I had nothing. I realized I'd made your life, your friends, mine. I had no connections with anyone outside of my family. My faith was so weak.”

“That's not true. I've seen you working with the youth.”

“Before, when I was with you, I wasn't like the way I am now.” Admitting the truth was almost painful, but a weight lifted off her shoulders. Her heart felt lighter. “You were my catalyst for change. For finding Pastor Dan and his church. For falling in love with God. I can't believe I'm telling you this, but being dumped at the altar was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

He smiled close-mouthed, a thoughtful gleam in his gaze. “At least something good came of that.”

“Lots of good.” She hoped he heard the sincerity behind her words. “We just had the wrong—misguided—intentions.”

“If I could go back . . .”

“It's okay.” Lightning flashed, followed immediately by a roar of thunder. She rubbed her arms. Focused on Ash. “You mentioned being friends. That's one step we skipped the first time.”

“Does that mean there's going to be a second time?”

Jenna's chest seized, the beat of her heart seeming to stop. She knew how she wanted to answer. Did she dare?

He held her hand. Tingles exploded from the point of contact.

“Are you willing to give us a second chance? Be friends with the possibility of more? That's what I want.”

No air remained in her lungs. She drew in a short
breath so she could answer. “I want to believe things could be different.”

“They will be. I promise.” He leaned toward her. “I know I've apologized, but I want you to know I've changed. I regret what I did, and I'll never do it again.”

Those were the words Jenna needed to hear. Peace settled over her. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

“What do you say?” he asked.

Hope filled her heart. This time would be different. “I'm up for a second chance.”

Taking a second chance put a permanent smile on Jenna's face. Dinners, a movie, texts every day, a video chat before saying good night. She couldn't have asked for a better start to her and Ash's friendship.

Watching a DVD together last night had reaffirmed what Jenna knew in her heart—she wanted Ash to be a part of her life again. As a friend . . . as more.

But something stood in the way. The wedding dress hanging in her closest had to go.

Jenna had told Ash not to look back. Her turn. She didn't need a reminder of the past. Not when she wanted to live in the present and look forward to the future. And she knew exactly who to call to take the dress off her hands.

An hour later, Kerri arrived alone. “Are you sure about this?”

“Positive.” Jenna had never been more certain. “Hanging onto the wedding gown makes no sense. If you don't like the
dress, that's okay, but I thought since you were looking for one I'd offer it to you.”

“I'm honored. Shocked, really.”

“We're about the same height, but you're thinner so you'll need alterations done. Come on.” Jenna had hung the dress in the bedroom closet. She removed the gown from the cover. “Here you go.”

Kerri gasped. She covered her mouth with her hands. “What a gorgeous dress.”

“Try it on.”

She reached for the dress with a hesitant hand. “I could never afford—”

“Just see if you like the gown.” Jenna headed out of the bedroom. “I'll wait in the hallway. Let me know if you need anything.”

Several minutes later, Kerri called Jenna into the bedroom. “What do you think?”

“Oh, my. Gorgeous.” A lump burned in Jenna's throat. Tears stung her eyes. Seeing Kerri wearing the wedding gown felt oh-so-right. “The dress looks better on you than me.”

Kerri wiped her eyes. “It's perfect, but—”

“The dress is yours.” The words tumbled out of Jenna's mouth without regret. Full of relief. “My gift to you.”

Kerri's eyes widened to the size of half-dollars. “Don't even kid.”

“I'm not.” Jenna grinned at her friend's shocked expression. “Take the dress. The number of the woman who did my alterations is on the bag. She can take in the waist and bodice.”

Tears streamed down Kerri's face. Happy ones, based on her smile. “Thank you. This is so much more than I imagined. An answer to my prayers.”

“Mine too.” A weight lifted off Jenna's shoulders. Nothing held her back now. “I can't wait to see how the dress looks in photographs.”

Kerri wiped her face with the back of her hand. “I'd better be careful. I don't want to cry all over the lovely lace.”

Jenna didn't tell the bride-to-be that she had cried on what would have been her wedding day. Only the tears hadn't been joyful ones like today.

“Trust me. A few tears won't hurt the dress.”

After Kerri left with the wedding dress, Jenna danced around her house until she reached her bedroom. She stared at the empty spot in her closet where the gown used to hang and giggled like a schoolgirl.

The past was behind her. Finally. She thought she'd moved on, but she hadn't. Not really. Now . . .

She touched the gold cross she wore around her neck, a birthday present from Pastor Dan and Trish.

Thank you.

Two words could never give back what she'd been given, but the words were all she had.

The doorbell rang.

Ash? They were planning to have dinner.

Jenna walked with a bounce to her step. Full of anticipation, she opened the front door. Not Ash. “Judge Vance?”

“Hello, Jenna.” He wore a dark suit with a blue shirt and tie. The wrinkles on his face had deepened, and his hair was whiter. “May I come in?”

“Please do.” She motioned him inside. “Would you like something to drink? Coffee or tea?”

“This isn't a social call.”

Her muscles tied into knots tighter than the ones she'd learned rock climbing. “I don't understand.”

“I'll make this brief.” He removed a white envelope from his suit jacket's pocket. “Inside is a check. It's yours if you agree not to photograph Amber's wedding.”

What? Jenna stared at him. “The wedding is next weekend. We have a contract.”

“Contracts can be broken.” Judge Vance sounded more like an ambulance-chasing lawyer than a respected judge. “Say you're sick or your brother has been injured and you need to fly to him.”

“I can't lie. I won't.” She couldn't believe this. “Finding a last-minute photographer would be too stressful for Amber and Toby.”

“I have a backup on retainer.” Judge Vance handed Jenna the envelope. “Look inside.”

“Judge—”

“Go on.”

She raised the flap and took a peek. A check made out to her. She counted the zeroes. Ten thousand dollars. She gasped. Nearly dropped the envelope.

“A lot of money. All you have to do is not show up at Amber's wedding and stop seeing Ash.”

“Ash?” Jenna's stomach felt as if it were going through
the washer's spin cycle and she might throw up. “This has nothing to do with Amber's wedding.”

“No, it doesn't.” Judge Vance didn't sound guilty or remorseful. “I respect you, Jenna. You've done well for someone from such . . . humble beginnings. But Ash needs more, a woman with a similar background. A woman who can handle the demands of being the spouse of a high-profile attorney and political candidate.”