Kiss the Bride (9 page)

“One marionberry cobbler and two spoons.” The waiter placed the dessert and silverware between them. “Enjoy.”

Jenna picked up her spoon but didn't take a bite. “You first.”

He ate a spoonful. The warm cobbler softened the cold ice cream into a heavenly mix of flavors.

“Delicious.” Though he'd rather have a taste of Jenna. She tasted better than any—Stop. Those thoughts would get him into trouble. This wasn't a date. Not even close. “Your turn.”

Jenna broke off a piece, then raised her spoon to her mouth. Her lips closed around the bite of cobbler and ice cream. She closed her eyes, chewed, swallowed. A soft sigh escaped.

The memories of her kisses hit like a left jab to his jaw. Talk about pure torture. Her kiss would be sweet, warm, completely filling. The best dessert on the menu. Ash shifted in his seat.

Opening her eyes, she lowered the spoon. Her mouth curved upward. “Yum. This is really good.”

Customers filled other tables, but the conversations and laughter didn't distract Ash. He was all about Jenna.
She was his focus, his world tonight. An alarm blared. A danger ahead sign flashed. If he wasn't careful, he was going to do something he regretted . . . like kiss her. “We can order another.”

She raised the spoon to her mouth. “This is enough. The calories are going straight to my waist and hips.”

He didn't see that as a problem, but knew better than to say the words aloud.

Jenna looked at him. “Can I ask you a question?”

He scooped up another bite. “Shoot.”

“I don't mean to be nosy. Okay, maybe I do, but why are you paying for Amber's wedding photographer instead of your father?”

Ash choked on the cobbler in his mouth, coughed, drank a sip of lemonade. That helped. Sort of. He drank more.

A concerned look on her face, Jenna touched his shoulder. “You okay?”

He nodded. Her moving closer and touching him felt good, comfortable, right. Pathetic, yes, but he was only human.

“Sorry, must have swallowed wrong.” His throat burned and so did his brain. He couldn't tell her the truth about his dad not liking her. The only thing that mattered was Ash liked her. “You'd asked about my father.”

“I wondered why you're paying for Amber's photography and not him.”

His father refused to pay Jenna. Ash didn't want to lie about the reason, but he would not hurt her again. “My father paid for the original photographer. Her assistants can shoot Amber's wedding, so he refused to pay for a different one.”

Namely Jenna.

Ash watched the melting ice cream pool on the plate. He hoped by the time of the wedding his father would be cordial to Jenna. “My dad shocked Amber by giving her a budget for the wedding. She's gone over, so she is paying for her dress, veil, and shoes.”

Jenna scooped up a spoonful of marionberries. “What else are you paying for?”

“The cake and DJ.”

“Amber's fortunate to have such a generous brother.”

“Her wedding day should be special.”

Jenna's fingers went knuckle-white-tight around the spoon. “Every bride dreams of the perfect wedding.”

“Did you?”

She nodded once.

He hadn't listened to what she wanted. “You wouldn't have had your dream wedding if we'd married.”

“You would have had yours.” She ate more cobbler.

Would that have been his ideal wedding? He didn't know. Jenna had suggested eloping, but Ash's campaign manager and his father believed the publicity surrounding a big wedding would be a boost for the campaign. He'd convinced her that was for the best. She hadn't put up much of an argument.

His fault. Again. He set his spoon on the cobbler plate. “I owe you another apology.”

“Let's call it good.” She didn't sound upset, but she fiddled with the napkin again. “There's no reason to look back. We can't change what happened.”

“True, but I don't want to make the same mistakes again.”

God, you've given me so much. But please, could I have a do-over with Jenna?

Ash nearly laughed. A misguided prayer, but he had no one else to help him.

“I'll be your cashier tonight.” The waiter set a black leather bill folder on the table, then walked away. Ash reached for the check only to find his hand on top of hers. “I've got this.”

“I do.”

Her skin was soft and warm. He fought the urge to rub her hand with his thumb. “Please. Let me cover dinner.”

Eyes dark, she kept hold of the folder. “How about we split the check?”

Jenna didn't look like she would surrender without a fight. That would mess up whatever limited chance he had with her.

He let go of the bill. “That works. I'll subtract what Toby left, and we can each pay half.”

A satisfied smile graced her lips. “Wonderful.”

Ash missed her hand on his. “You look happy.”

Her grin spread to her eyes, where a twinkle returned. “I am. Thanks to you.”

“I seem to be missing something.”

“This is the first time you've let me pay.”

“Ever?”

She nodded. “I never thought the whole man-always-pays thing seemed fair in an equal relationship, but you were always so adamant.”

“Adamant?”

“Very much so.” Her smile didn't falter. “I didn't make
as much as you. Still don't. And I appreciated you wanting to pay, but contributing, even a little, makes a person feel like they're in a partnership, not just being taken care of.”

He hadn't known she felt that way. “I'll remember that.”

“A warning. Not all women feel this way.”

But the one who counted did. “Still good to know.”

Especially if he got a do-over.

On Sunday after the youth service, Jenna entered the
church hall. Two teens acknowledged her with nods. She gave them a thumbs-up.

After the ropes course and Pastor Dan's sermon, she couldn't stop smiling. She kept thinking about the future. Something she hadn't done in two years. It felt good, normal.

Jenna followed the smell of fresh-brewed coffee to a large pot. She filled a cup, then added a dash of milk. The caffeine would keep her going with another wedding to shoot this afternoon.

“Hey.” Sam wore a white button-down and khaki pants—dressy attire for him. The clothes made him look more his age than his normal shorts and T-shirts. “Guess who's here?”

“Pretty much everyone we know.”

“True, but that's not who I meant.”

She sipped her coffee. The scent of something baking in
the hall's kitchen tickled her nose. “Is Mrs. Phillips making scones?”

“Yes.”

Jenna's stomach grumbled in anticipation. “Just what I need this morning.”

“That's what Ash said.”

She nearly dropped her coffee. “My Ash?”

“Yours?” Sam's eyes narrowed. “Didn't think you wanted to date the guy.”

“I don't. Figure of speech.”

“Yeah, right. And I'm the tooth fairy.”

She ignored him, searched the crowded hall, but didn't see Ash. “Where is he?”

“At one of the tables by the back door.” Sam's mouth slanted. “You'd better hurry. I think a few women are calling dibs.”

Jenna made a beeline toward the other side of the room. Laughter drew her attention. Michael, Kerri, Claire, and two women from the singles group sat with Ash. No empty seats remained at the table. The least Jenna could do was say hi.

She walked up. “Good morning. I'm surprised to see you here, Ash.”

He rose, looking handsome in his blue shirt and slacks. An almost finished scone sat on the plate in front of him. “I decided to attend the service this morning.”

“Enjoy it?”

“Very much.” He sounded relaxed for being in a brand-new place. “Pastor Dan is great. I liked the music. Everyone is so friendly. I'll be back next Sunday.”

A thrill shot through her. Not that what Ash did should matter. “This is a great place.”

The others at the table agreed. She sipped her coffee.

“You should go to the singles group meeting,” Kerri suggested. “Unless you're in a relationship.”

“I'm not dating anyone.”

His words squeezed Jenna's heart like a vise and left her feeling . . . weird.

“The next meeting is on Wednesday,” Claire said.

Ash looked at Jenna. “Will you be there?”

She shook her head. “Photo session.”

“I'll check my calendar,” he said to the others.

The three single women at the table sat taller, with big smiles. Jenna understood. But the thought of Ash dating one of them—or anyone—made her stomach churn. She didn't know why. He was no longer her fiancé. They weren't dating. They weren't even friends.

“We're going to brunch,” Kerri said to Jenna. “Ash suggested a place downtown. Join us.”

She'd eaten dinner with him last night. Brunch today wouldn't be the smartest move if she wanted to keep her distance. But a part of her wanted to spend time with him.

The other women stared at Ash like a new pair of shoes they wanted to try on. Which would he fit? Probably better that she wouldn't be around to watch Sweetwater Community Church's G-rated version of
The Bachelor
. “Thanks for the invite, but I have a wedding to shoot.”

“You had one on Friday,” Ash said to her.

“Busy month.”

Jenna shouldn't have said the word
wedding
in front of
Claire, but considering what she'd been going through, Claire didn't seem to mind. She looked good. She'd chopped off inches of hair and added coppery highlights. Her eyes were bright, not a hint of red or swelling.

The alarm on Jenna's cell phone beeped—a reminder to head home and pack her photography gear. “Have fun at brunch.”

Ash smiled at her. “Good to see you.”

Her heart bumped, not much, like she was driving over a cattle guard at the O'Donnell ranch west of town. Of course, she knew not having a reaction to Ash involving that particular organ would be better. Safer.

She should reply. “You too.”

Seeing him was good.

Except she had no idea what that meant or how she wished she could go to brunch or why she felt . . . jealous.

Tuesday at eleven, Jenna parked her car in downtown Sweetwater. Camera bag bumping against her hip, she headed to Bridal Sweets. The high-end wedding shop catered to wealthy clientele or brides wanting to splurge on a gown. She'd never been inside.

Her dress hadn't been expensive, but it was perfect. Too bad no one except Amber and two friends had seen Jenna wearing it. Would Ash have liked the gown she'd chosen?

Ack. She was losing her mind thinking about Ash. She wasn't the only woman, based on the chatter at the espresso
cart and texts wanting to know more about the handsome man who'd attended service and gone out to brunch. Even Sam had been asking questions.

That didn't make pushing Ash out of her mind any easier. He'd taken up permanent residence in her brain. No matter the time of day, he was there, a mishmash of a relationship-gone-wrong memories and new feelings developing.

Not that they were. At least not on his part, or he would have contacted her, texted or called, right?

She didn't want to know the answer. She needed to get him out of her head. This wasn't middle school or the youth group. She was too old for drama.

Jenna entered the bridal salon. Luxurious gold, pink, and white décor greeted her. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Her feet sank half an inch in the plush carpet. The scents of vanilla and lavender filled the cool air—not to mention the smell of money.

Out of her price range, out of her league.

“Welcome to Bridal Sweets.” A thirtysomething sales clerk dressed in a cerulean-green fitted jacket and matching skirt smiled warmly. She looked like she'd stepped out of a wedding reality TV show. Chunky, stylish silver chains hung around her neck. Her high heels seemed to have been dyed the same color as her suit. “May I help you?”