How to Make a Wedding

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How to Make a Wedding Page 54

by Cindy Kirk


  “So do I,” Ash said.

  Jenna’s breathing hitched. His words did funny things to her tummy. She focused on her camera, adjusting settings that were fine, but she wanted to distract herself from . . . him.

  “Is that okay?” Michael asked her.

  She leveled her gaze at Ash. But her breath remained caught in her throat, as if she’d wound a scarf around her neck three too many times. Not trusting her voice, Jenna nodded.

  What was happening? Her reactions didn’t make sense. She didn’t like the guy. He’d broken her heart and nearly sent her into bankruptcy. She shouldn’t care what he did or how he looked at her. Even if a cute puppy was involved.

  “Finish up in here.” Ash took the dog from Kerri. “Peaches and I will be in the backyard. Maybe she’ll show me how she escaped.”

  Jenna wished the puppy would show her how to get out of here with no one noticing. She pasted on yet another smile. “Thanks. A couple more shots, then we’ll join you.”

  “Have fun,” Kerri called out.

  “Oh, we will,” he said.

  Maybe Ash hadn’t sold out completely. Jenna watched him leave.

  Not that she cared. Not much anyway.

  Thirty minutes later, Ash sat on an Adirondack chair in Jenna’s backyard, shaded by the covered patio. He held onto Peaches’s leash, though the tired pup wasn’t going anywhere except Dreamland.

  A welcome breeze rustled tree leaves and toyed with the ends of Jenna’s blonde ponytail. She moved effortlessly around her subjects, drawing his attention wherever she went. She could have been taking pictures of a lion on the loose, and he wouldn’t have noticed anything except her.

  Beautiful.

  More so than he remembered. But she looked thinner—not I’ve-been-working-out slim, more like worn out and eating less.

  Too many June weddings on her calendar, or something else?

  None of his business. Yet he felt responsible.

  Who was he kidding? He was responsible.

  His fault.

  Ash had a feeling those words would be echoing in his mind for a long time.

  He looked down. Peaches, worn out from playing and posing for photos, slept with her head on his left shoe. Her paws moved back and forth, running in her dreams.

  Cute, but he’d rather watch Jenna.

  She stood near a colorful garden complete with bright blossoms, a charming birdhouse hanging from a weathered post, and a quaint, slat-back bench. The last time he’d been here, the yard consisted of a cement patio, dying grass, and trees needing TLC. Now the lawn and plants thrived, creating an outdoor oasis.

  “I’m going to take candid shots using the garden as the backdrop,” she instructed Kerri and Michael. Their smiles hadn’t wavered once this afternoon. “Don’t worry about posing. Talk. Hold hands. Wander around. Do whatever feels right. You can’t get this wrong. Okay?”

  Kerri and Michael nodded.

  Ash found himself doing the same, captivated by Jenna.

  Writers used a journal; she recorded memories with photos. She’d always been comfortable behind a camera, but her new confidence impressed him.

  “Can we smooch?” Michael asked.

  She smiled, a mischievous gleam in her gaze. “Up to you.”

  Michael winked at Kerri. Her blush, a charming shade of pink, matched her short-sleeved dress.

  Jenna lowered her camera. “You two are total pros. Great job.”

  Her bright-as-the-midday-sun grin lit up her face. How could Ash have believed she’d lied? Talk about stupid. Stupid for breaking up with her. Stupid for not calling her these past two years. Stupid for pretending he’d been fine since asking for his ring back. He wasn’t fine and only had himself to blame.

  He’d been so quick to judge her. Strange, given she’d been a ray of sunshine in his life. Even after he’d called off their wedding, she’d changed his life when the viral photo led to a job offer at the top law firm in town. His now-boss had wanted to hire someone who didn’t fit the typical lawyer mold to work with out-of-the-box clients—creative types as well as eccentric ones. Jenna’s embarrassing picture had earned Ash an interview.

  “We’ll have plenty of photos to choose from for your engagement portrait and save-the-date card.” Jenna continued snapping photos. “I’ll upload the proofs, then send you a link to your online album tomorrow.”

  “This was more fun than I thought it would be.” Michael’s words earned him a slight elbow from Kerri. He laughed. “Just being honest, babe.”

  “So am I.” Kerri shimmied her shoulders. “This was great, Jenna. Thank you. I can’t wait until you’re photographing me in my wedding dress.”

  “Did you find one?” Michael asked.

  “Not yet,” Kerri said with a smile. “But I will.”

  Finding a dress wasn’t hard, Ash thought. Amber had found hers the first day she looked.

  Jenna’s forehead creased. “Are you planning to buy off-the-rack?”

  Ash had no idea what that meant.

  Michael scratched his chin. “Is off-the-rack like buying illegal Fourth of July fireworks out of the back of a white van?”

  Kerri shook her head. “No. And I hope that’s not how you’re planning to buy fireworks this year.”

  Michael pleaded innocent with a who-me look that suggested he’d already placed his order.

  Jenna looked like she was trying not to smile. “Off-the-rack means buying a dress that’s in stock rather than ordering one from a designer, which can take months.”

  “And is more expensive.” Kerri’s serious tone contradicted the grin on her face. “The bargain shopper in me cannot fathom paying full price for a dress I’ll wear only once. I’ve been checking bridal store clearance racks and scouring thrift stores and consignment shops.”

  “October isn’t that far away,” Jenna said.

  “I’m not worried.” Kerri sounded confident. “I’ll find what I want. I always do.”

  “Yes, you do.” Michael touched her shoulder. “She did the same thing when we went to our senior prom in high school. Found a beautiful dress.”

  Kerri beamed. “For less than twenty dollars.”

  “Sounds like you know what you’re doing,” Ash said, impressed.

  Nodding, she picked up Peaches. “Thanks for taking such good care of my baby. She’s worn out from playing. That’ll make the car ride back to my place quieter.”

  On the way to the front door, they exchanged good-byes. Kerri, Michael, and Peaches left. Ash hung back.

  Jenna kept the door open, her hand on the knob. “I appreciate your help with the puppy.”

  “Peaches and I had fun.”

  “Well, thanks.” Opening the door farther, she looked at Ash expectantly.

  He remained in place. Michael had joked about being honest. Honesty here would serve Ash best with Jenna. “Amber is on her way.”

  Something flashed in Jenna’s eyes so fast he didn’t have time to figure out the emotion. She gripped the knob so tight her fingers looked frozen.

  “That’s not necessary.” She spoke slowly, as if considering each word.

  “Maybe not for you, but Amber needs to apologize in person. She believes the world is Amber-centric. She needs to learn the universe doesn’t revolve around her.”

  “Amber might not want to learn that lesson.”

  “It’s time and for her own good.”

  Jenna started to say something, then stopped herself. “You can wait in the living room. I’m going to clean up the studio.”

  “Want help?”

  She eyed him, warily, cautiously, as if she hadn’t decided if he was friend or foe. “No, thanks. It won’t take me long.”

  At least she hadn’t told him to leave or asked him to wait outside. Progress? Ash hoped so.

  Inviting sunlight shone through the wood paned windows in Jenna’s living room. So homey and quiet compared to Ash’s condo in Sweetwater’s downtown district, where the train station and fire department made s
ilence a rarity, not the norm.

  He recognized the braided rug and the white coffee table in front of the couch. Many nights he’d kicked his feet up, shared a bowl of buttered popcorn with Jenna, and watched a movie.

  The bookcase sat against the opposite wall. He remembered when they put the pieces together. Lots of laughter and debate over whether reading the directions was necessary.

  The new blue and white plaid slipcovered couch was more welcoming than the solid yellow one. A red blanket lay on an old rocking chair along with a pillow.

  Pictures of him and Jenna used to fill the shelves, mantel, and walls. Not any more. He rubbed his chin and stared at the unfamiliar faces with her. A weight—two tons of regret—pressed on Ash’s chest, making each breath a struggle.

  What had he expected? That she’d kept the photographs of him on her walls? Or stopped going out and having fun?

  He hated that his answer to both questions was yes.

  A family portrait hung on the cream-colored wall next to images of rock climbing, hiking, horseback riding in a collage frame. He had no idea she liked those activities, but the smile on her face suggested she was enjoying herself.

  The pictures showed all he’d missed these past two years. His stomach churned so badly not even a bottle of antacids would help. Jenna had created a life without him. A career. A home. New friends. Knowing she’d moved on unsettled Ash.

  “Would you like a glass of lemonade or iced tea? I can mix the two into an Arnold Palmer if you’d rather.”

  Jenna’s voice startled him. He stepped back from the wall of photos, feeling like a visual eavesdropper on her life. “Lemonade would be great. Thanks.”

  “Be right back.”

  As soon as she left, his gaze refocused on the pictures.

  One thing in the images jumped out. Fun. She’d been having fun, something missing from his life, not to mention his vocabulary. Work had become his priority. He took Sundays off, but the extra hours during the week and on Saturday would help him reach his goal of partner sooner. He’d be the youngest at the firm. Maybe a promotion would bring the same satisfaction he’d felt when he first started working there.

  “Here you go.” Jenna handed him a tall glass full of lemonade. “Just made this morning.”

  He took a sip. Sweet and tangy, a combination that reminded him of Jenna’s kiss. “Delicious.”

  “My mom’s recipe.”

  Homemade. Not surprising. Mrs. Harrison had been a good cook, specializing in comfort foods like meat loaf, cabbage rolls, and macaroni and cheese. Entrees their health-conscious housekeeper Mrs. Beatty had never made. “How are your parents?”

  “Doing well in Connecticut.”

  “What about Colton?” Ash asked.

  “Still in the marines. Stationed at Camp Pendleton. He came home on leave last spring. Brought a couple friends. They redid the backyard for me.”

  Again, not a surprise. Ash had met her brother once. Colton Harris was an in-shape, hard-as-nails guy who loved America and his sister, not in that particular order.

  “Fishing, river rafting, paddleboarding.” Ash raised his glass toward the framed photos on the mantel, curious about the other people and her new hobbies. “You’ve been staying active.”

  “Yes.”

  He waited for her to say more. She didn’t. “Looks like fun.”

  “Yes. I love being outdoors.”

  More words this time. Maybe he’d get an entire paragraph from her next.

  “Me too.” Except he spent his time at work with occasional trips to the gym. He tried to remember the last time he’d gone for a run outside and not on a treadmill. His mind went blank. “When I have time.”

  “Still working long hours?”

  “I’m going for partner.” His defensive tone made him want to grimace. Was his work schedule what she remembered of him? He sipped the lemonade, which tasted less sweet.

  Ash stood only four feet away from Jenna, but the quiet pushed them further apart. Unease knotted his muscles. He wanted to mend the rift between them, but that wasn’t going to happen. Things were never going to be the same. The realization made him sad.

  She glanced at the clock on the end table. “I don’t mean to be rude, but are you sure Amber’s coming? I have plans tonight.”

  Plans? A date? Ash’s collar tightened. A million questions sprung to mind. None of which he could ask without appearing to be a stalker-ex. “I’ll see where she is.”

  He pulled out his cell phone. No message from Amber about running late. He typed, Jenna doesn’t have much time. Now or never.

  A reply came quickly: Be there in 5.

  Ash put away his phone. “She’s almost here.”

  “Okay.” Jenna didn’t sound okay, more like nervous.

  Nothing was working as he . . . he hadn’t planned any of this, but he’d expected her to be happier to see him. Upsetting her more was the last thing he wanted. “This will be quick. I promise.”

  She nodded.

  If this were a contest for saying the fewest words, Jenna would win. No, that wasn’t fair after what he’d done to her. He should be happy she’d moved on. Not be disappointed she was doing fine without him.

  Ash was. Sort of. But he didn’t like how their time together had been wiped away like the mascara-stained tears streaming down her cheeks when he’d asked for his grandmother’s ring back. Sure, things had ended badly, but they’d shared good times, cared about each other. He still had the wedding gift he’d bought for her. That had to count for something.

  He wanted to try. “Is there any way we could be friends again?”

  “Friends,” she repeated, as if testing out the word. “We bypassed that step when we met and went straight to dating.”

  “That doesn’t mean we can’t be friends now.”

  Her eyes darkened. She rubbed her lips together. “I—”

  The doorbell rang.

  Relief filled her face. “That must be Amber.”

  Leave it to his sister to arrive at the wrong time. Ash followed Jenna into the foyer.

  The discussion might have been interrupted, but he wasn’t giving up. He wouldn’t walk away from her again. Being friends was better than nothing. He hoped Jenna agreed.

  Amber Vance was the last person Jenna wanted to see, but the doorbell had saved her from answering Ash.

  Be his friend?

  Uh, no.

  As soon as he and Amber left, Jenna never wanted to see either again.

  You’ve gotten me through so much, Lord. I thank you for that. A little more patience this afternoon would be greatly appreciated.

  She opened the door. Amber stood next to a familiar-looking man wearing a suit.

  “Jenna!” Amber’s expertly applied makeup made her look older than twenty-two. Her long brown hair swayed as she sashayed on four-inch heels into the house without an invitation. She kissed the air next to Jenna’s cheek. “It’s been way too long. You look amazing. You’ve dropped, what, ten or twenty pounds?”

  Twelve, after gaining back a couple. “A few.”

  “What’s your secret?” Amber asked.

  “Getting dumped the day before your wedding does weird things to your appetite.” The words were out of Jenna’s mouth before she could stop them.

  Amber’s laugh sounded forced. Neither Ash nor the man standing on the welcome mat said anything. Jenna didn’t blame them.

  Amber shrugged. “Well, at least something good came of it.”

  It?

  Did she mean the photo going viral? Or the cancellation of the wedding? Or maybe Ash breaking Jenna’s heart. Probably best not to ask.

  The man on the porch cleared his throat.

  Amber glanced over her shoulder, as if in an afterthought. “Oh, I’d like you to meet my fiancé, Toby Matthews.”

  Toby entered the house, then closed the door behind him. His worried expression contradicted his loosened tie and casually styled blond hair. He seemed uncomfortable like Jenna, and she felt
a surprising kinship. He was attractive in a smart, nerdy-guy kind of way, a one-eighty from the fraternity pretty-boy type Amber dated two years ago.

  “Hi,” he said. “Thanks for seeing us on such short notice.”

  Polite. Jenna tried to place him. Not church or school, but she knew him somehow. “We’ve met before.”

  A hesitant smile formed on Toby’s face. “You photographed my cousin Ben’s wedding last summer. That’s why I suggested you for our wedding.”

  “You wanted to hire Jenna?” Ash asked Toby.

  “She did a great job. Put everyone at ease, especially me. I don’t think I’ve ever smiled so much having my picture taken.”

  Toby wanting to hire her made more sense than Amber wanting to do so.

  “Ben and Julia Garrett.” The pictures from that day flashed through Jenna’s mind like a slideshow. “The reception was held at Fallen Leaf Park. You were a groomsman.”

  Toby nodded. “One of five.”

  Jenna felt bad for saying no. She remembered Toby Matthews. He defined the term nice guy. He’d danced with the single women, young and old, at the reception, stepped out of the way so the best man could catch the garter, and given the last piece of chocolate cake to the flower girl.

  “Orange tie,” she said.

  “And socks.” Toby’s grin widened. “That was Julia’s idea. Orange is her favorite color.”

  Jenna remembered. Not peach like some brides might have chosen, but bright orange, nearly neon. “You rolled up your pants to show off the socks in one of the pictures.”

  “Good memory, considering the number of weddings you must work,” Ash said.

  Her gaze collided with his. Unexpected warmth spurted through her veins, heating her from the inside out. Not good. “Memorable wedding.”

  Amber flipped her hair behind her shoulder, a practiced move that put the glam in glamour. “That was before Toby and I were seriously dating, or I would have attended with him.”

  “You would have had fun.” Additional memories of the wedding returned. Jenna couldn’t help but smile. “I loved the dance you groomsmen did. I wanted the photographs to capture that fun feeling.”

 

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