My Ex-Boyfriend's Wedding

by T. Sue VerSteeg

  She pulled away, but just enough to speak, and nodded toward the opening. "I promise; it's bigger on the inside."

  "Huh, so basically, we are about to enter the TARDIS of caves."

  Jemma couldn't contain her enthusiasm. "Casablanca and Doctor Who? Wow."

  He backed through the opening, pulling her along with him. "Do I want to know how you became aware of this little gem?" He glanced around the cool, dimly lit cave but never let go of her.

  She swatted him lightly on the chest. "Mikey and I played here when we were little. It took Mom and Dad over an hour to find us one time. We were grounded for…" Jemma squinted in thought before realizing an actual time range didn't really matter with a willing hunk of a man standing in front of her. "Forever, or so it seemed."

  "So, do you suppose they're looking for us now?"

  "Really? Did you not just see my mother's reaction? I'd imagine she's built a barricade, guarding it with her life in hopes that we are, well, you know, reconciling." Her fingers made air quotes.

  "We don't want to let your mother down, then," he growled.

  His lips found hers again, and he pushed her against the cool, smooth stone wall. The fingers of one hand danced along her spine, stopping at the small of her back. He bunched the fabric of her dress, the hem rising with each knead. He slid his other hand beneath the shortened edge, his fingers exploring the back of her thigh, sliding across her bare bottom until discovering the string of her thong. With a seductive nip on her bottom lip, he pulled away ever so slightly, his shadowed face softened with passion. He released a low growl and skimmed his thumb under the lace, pulling her hips to his. His other hand reached around and pulled her up off of the ground. Animal instinct took over as his lips again claimed hers. Jemma wrapped her legs around his waist, her shoes dropping from her feet, slapping against the rock floor.

  Jemma sucked in her breath, dropping head back against the wall with a frustrated groan. "I doubt the cave has a condom machine."

  "Don't worry. I've got it covered."

  "You carry them?" Her response came out a bit more accusatory than she'd planned.

  "I'm a guy."

  She opened her mouth for a snide 'typical male' retort, but he slipped a finger to her lips.

  "A responsible guy. I keep one tucked in my wallet for just such an emergency."

  "And these emergencies happen often?" She knew she was fishing but didn't much care. If he wasn't holding her against the wall, she might've even flounced a bit.

  "Not nearly as often as I'd like." Chuckling, he continued, "But don't worry; it hasn't been in there so long it'll fall apart either."

  "Well, aren't you a regular Boy Scout."

  Tangling his fingers in her hair, he gently tugged her head backward. "You talk too much," he purred as he captured her lips with his.

  The space between them blurred, passion swaying them both, and they became one. No one else existed but them; time seemed to freeze. Satisfying the only need that mattered right then, they forged a bond deeper than either expected.

  "That was nothing short of amazing," Jemma purred as the world came back into focus.

  Tony responded with a growl. "I'd have seconds if we had another condom."

  "Well, you'll just have to return that Wilderness Preparedness Badge." Laughter echoed in the small space. "We've been in here for over an hour. We should probably attempt an innocent return to the party, although I'm not sure I can wipe this smile off of my face." Jemma dropped her head onto his shoulder and nuzzled. "At least I am now positive there's nothing little about you, Ant'ny or not."

  He slowly returned her to her feet, a proud grin of satisfaction and inflated ego curling his lips. "Can't we just wave as we jog by on our way to my car? I have a whole box at home."

  She contemplated it for a moment but knew the teasing would be endless. She dug inside her small purse and produced a couple of fast food napkins, handing one to him so he could clean up. "It sounds like heaven, but we need to make an appearance." She shimmied out of her panties and tucked them in the side pocket.

  "Are you extremely adamant on torturing my very soul today? Now I get the pleasure of knowing that you have no panties on under your dress. Please refrain from bending over in front of me. I'd hate to clear the picnic table and take you right there in front of everyone."

  "Hate?"

  "You've been warned."

  "I like knowing how much control I have over you today. This might be fun."

  "Fun?" Tony followed her out of the cave and down the path toward the edge of the trees. "This is not my idea of fun. Fun is what we just did back there; fun is not sexually frustrating me while I'm wearing basketball shorts. That would be the complete opposite of fun, as I'd have no way to hide my interest in you, so to speak. Please behave yourself."

  Jemma turned to face him, contemplating his dilemma. She noted the strong, pleading look in his eyes. "Oh, all right, I'll be good."

  "Being good is not the issue at hand. I've experienced that. I need you to behave."

  "Okay, that too."

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  It only took a few weeks for Dalton's alimony case to go to court. Partly because it held up the divorce proceedings and partly because Kate's dad pulled some strings to get a quick date. With the late summer heat of September almost unbearable, Jemma found few reasons, other than getting back into her photography business, to leave Tony's bedroom—and his king sized bed—since their picnic at the park.

  Jemma walked up the large stone courthouse stairs after everyone else had entered the building. She was the surprise witness and didn't want to give her presence away to Dalton or his attorney. Butterflies danced in her stomach as she yanked open the heavy front door and walked into the enormous marble entry. She smoothed the skirt of her conservative gray business suit with one hand, while grasping the paper sack in a death grip with the other. She then clutched it to her chest as she wandered the hall, until she found the right room. Curiosity piqued, she pulled one of the courtroom doors open just enough to see and hear the proceedings.

  "Your honor, my client is the innocent one in all of this," Dalton's counsel stated. She stood next to him, massaging his shoulder. The attorney was, of course, a beautiful woman with huge breasts in a skin tight skirt and blouse. Dalton's favorite.

  She walked in front of the older male judge, hands out in a pleading motion, and continued, "He admits there had been an affair before the marriage, but has been nothing but the model husband—or at least tried to be—since the unfortunate mistake on his part. He is the victim of his new wife's abhorrent behavior and that of her father's, as well. She has filed for divorce for no valid reason, and her father has made it impossible for my client to find a decent job within a hundred mile radius. For this reason, Mr. Blackwell is suing Mrs. Blackwell for alimony in the amount of three hundred fifty thousand dollars a year until he is able to find gainful employment in this area, in his line of expertise, and relevant to his education. I do not feel this amount is extravagant or excessive in any way, considering his prior salary with Mr. McCallister's firm. I have supplied you with the documents required to file this motion, along with past pay stubs and bank statements. Please understand that my client has been left with no other choice, due to the actions of his wife and father-in-law. Thank you, your honor." She turned her back to the judge, winked at Dalton, and rejoined him at their table.

  Kate's lawyer, a tall, distinguished man of about sixty, stood shaking his head vigorously. "Your honor, I am here to prove that Mrs. Blackwell is the victim here. The victim of the tragedy that is Mr. Blackwell himself. This marriage has been a farce from the moment they said 'I do.' Mr. Blackwell has cheated on my client and flaunted it in her face. The stress of which led to the loss of their unborn child and… "

  Dalton's attorney slapped her palms on the table and stood, bent over at the waist with her hands still firmly in place, undoubtedly affording the judge an excellent view down your silk blouse. "Your honor,
I understand this is an informal hearing, but I must object to such a statement. How can the opposing counsel possibly prove that my client caused Mrs. Blackwell's miscarriage? Though an unfortunate situation, my client is just as distraught over it as Mrs. Blackwell."

  Dalton turned toward Kate with tears in his eyes.

  Kate shook her head, her eyes wild with anger. "Take your hand out of your pocket and show me some real emotion."

  Jemma pressed her free hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.

  The judge nodded his head in agreement, his gaze fixed onto her cleavage. "Your point is well taken, Ms. Cherry."

  You have got to be kidding me. Cherry?

  Jemma couldn't contain it. A loud snort escaped, calling attention to the doors, and to her. She immediately backed away and let them close, clearing her throat in a feeble attempt to cover it up.

  She nodded at the crowd milling by. "Allergies." She waited a few moments then resumed her post at the door.

  The judge spoke. "This is a hearing for the sole purpose of determining if alimony is warranted on Mr. Blackwell's behalf. Due to the circumstances, the only way I see for Mrs. Blackwell to relinquish this is to prove that their marriage was never consummated and to have it dismissed through an annulment. It does not seem to me there is really any way to prove this, since Mrs. Blackwell was pregnant with Mr. Blackwell's child at the time. Would you have anything to convince me otherwise, Mr. Twibell?"

  Dalton took on a cocky, arrogant look as he leaned back in his chair and laced his hands behind his head.

  Kate's attorney stood before the judge, nodding his head. "Actually, your honor, I believe that we can, in fact, prove this. I would like to call in a witness, if I may."

  The judge looked back and forth between counselors and opposing parties with a look of intrigue. "It is highly irregular to call in witnesses at a hearing such as this."

  Kate turned and looked toward the doors, and Jemma pushed her arm through to give her the thumbs up, which caught Dalton's attention. He turned and glowered at Jemma, his face contorted in a malicious pucker, his upper lip twitching on one side.

  Both Dalton and Kate turned back toward the judge in unison to hear his decision.

  "I will allow it."

  Dalton whispered something in his attorney's ear. She bounced—parts of her more than others—to her feet. "Your honor, opposing counsel is calling an ex-girlfriend to the stand. What statement could someone, undoubtedly with revenge and bias as motive, possibly provide this court which could be taken seriously? She could not be considered a credible witness."

  Kate's attorney tossed a knowing look at Ms. Cherry. "She could provide a picture that was taken at the wedding reception of Mr. Blackwell and his other ex-girlfriend, kissing in the hallway. I think that you will find this photo of the utmost quality and clarity. Your honor, I call Jemma Keith, wedding photographer, to the stand."

  Jemma pulled both doors open in grand fashion and pranced down the aisle with her prized, enlarged photo under her arm. She sashayed past Tony and Mike, who'd been sitting behind Kate for support, and tossed them a confident wink. Sweet revenge coursed through her veins as she saw the deer-in-the-headlights look on Dalton's face.

  She walked to the witness stand, and the portly bailiff sauntered over to swear her in. She placed one hand on the Bible and held the other palm out, toward the people.

  "Jemma Keith, do you promise to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"

  "Yes, I do."

  "You may be seated," the judge announced. "Counsel, you may address your witness."

  Mr. Twibell approached Jemma. She sat carefully in the old fold-up chair that doubled as a witness stand. The butterflies returned with friends.

  "Ms. Keith, I understand you took a photograph of the plaintiff and another woman in the hallway outside of his own wedding reception."

  Jemma nodded and answered, "Yes, sir."

  "Would that happen to be it on your lap?

  She nodded again. "Yes."

  "Could you please show it to the judge?"

  Dalton's attorney did her palm-slap-slash-breast-flash again. "Your honor, this is an outrage. I don't know how a photograph can prove anything. Even if it were time and date stamped, those devices can be tampered with."

  "Ms. Cherry, I said I would allow this witness. Please sit down." The judge turned his attention to Jemma and reached out a fleshy hand. "May I see the photograph, please?"

  Jemma looked at Kate's attorney. He nodded his head toward the judge. "Of course, sir. I mean, your honor…sir." She pulled the paper bag away from the framed picture and handed it to the judge.

  "Well, you went all out on this piece of evidence. I don't know that I've ever had one framed before." The judge chuckled and held the picture in front of him, staring intently.

  Jemma turned her attention to Dalton and his attorney, who whispered in his ear. He appeared to have quit breathing, frozen in his seat, awaiting the judge's next words.

  "Mr. Blackwell, would this be the same tuxedo you were married in?" The judge's firm voice boomed through the courtroom.

  Dalton's eyes shifted from his attorney and back to the judge several times before he stood. Ms. Cherry tugged at his jacket sleeve in an attempt to bring him back to his seat.

  Finally, Dalton's silence broke in outrage. "Your honor, the woman who gave you the picture wants nothing more than to ruin me. She tried to stop the wedding by cornering me several times."

  Ms. Cherry broke in. "Mr. Blackwell, please sit down."

  "The woman on the stand cornered me in the hall outside of my reception and kissed me. She's the reason that my wife lost her baby the night of our wedding."

  Ms. Cherry dropped her face into her hands and groaned.

  Jemma's blood began a slow boil, and she fought the urge to stand up and tell Dalton to go straight to hell. She grasped the wooden banister in a death grip, ready to jump to her feet and beat him with the picture. She glanced at the judge, who appeared completely taken aback by Dalton's outburst. Inhaling a deep, cleansing breath, she sat back and waited to see what he made of Dalton's supposed confession.

  The judge huffed. "Let me get this straight. By your own admission, you kissed another woman in the hall after your wedding. You also admit that your wife of, what? An hour? Knew about it, thus causing her to miscarry." He shook his head and banged his gavel. "Well, that leaves me no other choice than to grant Kate McCallister an annulment and cancel your request for alimony. I will have the corresponding paperwork sent to your offices, counsel. That is all." The corpulent judge rose from his seat.

  Dalton stormed toward him in a rage. "You don't understand! That woman ruined my life! She's taking everything away from me and enjoying every second!"

  "Sir, if you don't close your mouth and leave this instant, I will have you arrested for contempt. Is this understood? We are through here."

  Dalton's jaw clamped shut, and his lips pursed tightly against his teeth. His face burned bright pink, veins bulging at both temples, as he clenched his fists at his side. He belligerently shoved Ms. Cherry out of his way and stomped out of the courtroom, slamming both doors open against the outside walls.

  Jemma cleared the three stairs from the witness stand in one leap, crossed the short span between her and the defense table in seconds, and scooped Kate in a giant hug. "You're finally free of that pompous ass!"

  Kate pushed Jemma back to arm's length. "No, we are free of him now. It's time for us all to get on with our lives and loves." She turned her head and beamed at Tony and Mike.

  The girls separated and slipped into the awaiting arms of their men.

  Tony whispered, "I thought for sure you were going to get yourself kicked out of court. You had that look in your eyes; the look of a woman on a mission."

  "Yeah, I was about to tell him where to go and exactly how to get there, while simultaneously bashing him over the head with the picture and the judges gavel."


  Tony dropped his forehead to hers. "I think he's in his own little hell now. No need for directions. Would you like to go somewhere and celebrate?"

  Without being invited, Mike chimed in, "We'd love to go!"

  Tony raised an eyebrow and stared into Jemma's eyes, which she immediately rolled into the back of her head. "He undoubtedly thought of food when you mentioned a celebration." She turned to her brother. "Okay, how about we all meet at the coffeehouse?"

  "Sounds like a plan," Mike answered. "We all drove separately though, didn't we?"

  "That's okay," Kate interjected. "There shouldn't be a problem with parking this time of day. We can just meet there."

  "Where did you park?" Tony asked Jemma as they walked out of the courtroom doors. Kate and Mike continued walking on down the hall and out the main front doors.

  "I'm over in the garage. I saw that you got a spot right out front. How'd you pull that one off?"

  "The right place at the right time. A guy was leaving as I got here." He leaned in and kissed Jemma softly on the lips. "Drive carefully, and I'll meet you there."

  Backing away from him, she waved. "I will." She turned around and trotted toward the four-story parking garage, her dress shoes clacking on the pavement. When she got out of the elevator on the nearly empty third floor, gas and oil fumes accosted her lungs, making her cough. Her car was only a few spaces away, so she rushed toward it, hoping to get away before the smells overpowered her.

  She slipped her fingers under the door handle, and her ears perked at a slight groaning sound coming from the floor below. A familiar man's voice followed. "I told you not to fight me, didn't I?"

  Dalton? Jemma dropped her purse, kicked off her shoes, and flew down the flight of stairs, taking them two and three at a time.

  Just as she barreled out of the stairwell, Dalton pushed a gagged and bound Kate into his backseat. Her pleading gaze locked with Jemma's for a brief second before he slammed the car door closed.

  "What are you doing?" Shock seized her body. She stared at him, unable to completely process the whole scene.