Kiss the Bride (2 page)

“Couldn't agree more.” That was why a never-worn wedding dress hung in the back of Jenna's closet, a reminder that relationships weren't always as wonderful as they looked through her viewfinder. “If I fall in love and want to get married again, I'm eloping. That was my parents' advice the last time since plane tickets weren't in their budget and my brother was deployed. Should have listened.”

Kerri laughed. “That's funny coming from a wedding photographer.”

“Maybe.” Jenna pulled out a scalloped white frame. This would work better than the darker one. She placed it against the table, then grabbed a brown frame. “Though I'd better find a date before I start talking about another wedding.”

“Does that mean you're ready to be set up?”

“No.” The word flew from Jenna's mouth faster than a moth dive-bombing a lit candle. She nearly dropped the frame on the floor. Her heart was still on sabbatical. “Thanks, but I'm not ready for blind dates.”

Jenna had faith that God would bring her the right guy. One who believed in her and loved her unconditionally. Until then, she had to be patient and trust in God's plan for her. The last thing she wanted was a repeat performance of what happened with her ex-fiancé. No more rushing into a commitment.

“Maybe not, but I've never heard you mention the d-word,” Kerri teased.

D-word. Date.

Jenna's skin prickled. Her stomach spun like she'd ridden the Tilt-a-Whirl at the fair. Nope. Not ready yet. And that was okay. No matter what anyone else said.

“Uh-oh.” Worry returned to Kerri's voice.

“What's wrong?”

“The blow dryer stopped. Better find out what's going on.”

“Okay. See you soon.”

The call ended. Jenna placed the brown frame next to the white one she'd selected, then double-checked the list of shots. Formal portraits and fun ones without Peaches would come first. Then puppy madness photography would ensue.

Most ideas would come to Jenna during the session, but she planned ahead to make sure she didn't miss anything. One time, early in her career, failing to get a picture of the bride with her parents had taught Jenna the importance of lists.

A knock sounded.

Kerri and Michael couldn't have arrived that quickly. A client must be here to pick up prints. Sometimes they didn't call ahead of time if they knew their package was ready.

Jenna crossed the studio, stepped into the small foyer, and opened the door.

Her heart slammed into her ribcage like a battering ram against a fortress gate. Her world tilted sideward. She clutched the door handle, as if it were a lifeline.

What in the world was
he
doing here?

Her ex-fiancé, Ashton Vance, was the last person Jenna
expected to see. Wanted to see. Ever.

He looked . . . good. His classically handsome features seemed more chiseled than two years ago. Maybe that was due to his shorter, corporate haircut. So different from the longer, curly-at-the-ends style he'd worn before. His tailored suit screamed successful attorney. No sign of the beard stubble she'd found so appealing.

She blinked, thinking she must be hallucinating, then refocused. He was still standing on her front step, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Hello, Jenna.”

His voice washed over her like chocolate fondue. Deep, rich, warm. Exactly how she remembered. But hearing him say her name no longer gave her the good, shoot-to-her-toes chills. More like a shiver down her spine.

Please, God, give me strength. A little grace wouldn't hurt.

She forced herself to breathe. “Why are you here?”

Her voice sounded shaky, the way her insides felt. Ashton had been the man she'd dreamed of being with for the rest of her life. The man who hadn't believed his own fiancée was telling the truth. The man who'd broken her heart.

“A fair question.”

Nothing had been fair. Not the weeks of crying. Not the months trying to get over him. Not the nearly two years putting herself and her life back together. Jenna's muscles bunched, one after another, into a mass of triple knots.

She raised her chin, not about to make this easy on him. She was no longer a pushover and had found strength, not in herself, but in God. “Then answer my question.”

Ashton flinched.

Jenna didn't care. Ashton Vance . . . Ash had been her world. She would have done anything for the man, but she had zero patience now. She wanted him gone.

He glanced around. “May I come in?”

“No.” Turning the cheek was one thing. Acting like an idiot was another. She wasn't being rude, but practical. “Clients will be arriving soon.”

“Fine.”

A vein throbbed at his jaw. His blue eyes resembled the color of the Columbia River during a storm. She probably shouldn't take so much pleasure in his unease.

He cleared his throat. “I just found out you didn't post that photo. I'm sorry for blaming you and calling you a liar.”

Finally.

She waited for relief to hit. It didn't. Nor did any other emotion now that he'd accepted the truth. She felt
disconnected, more observer than participant. Strange, given the times she'd imagined this moment, but his showing up seemed anticlimactic. Maybe because she'd realized their relationship hadn't been based on unconditional love, but on being the perfect couple, attending the most popular church in town, and having a big wedding so voters would think he was a happily married family man, rather than a bachelor who lived in a downtown condo.

“Amber came clean,” Jenna said.

His lips parted, matching the surprise in his eyes. “You knew my sister sent the photo?”

“Having me Photoshop the picture was her idea. She was the only other person who knew it existed.”

Ash's gaze narrowed. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“I did, but you'd made up your mind I had to be the one who posted the picture to the newspaper's Facebook page.”

“I had. That's why I want to apologize.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I'm sorry. I feel horrible for everything that happened.”

“Welcome to my world.”

“Jenna . . .”

“What?” Okay, maybe her words hadn't been polite, but she'd been honest. The one thing she'd been through the ordeal. Though few had believed her. Everyone—from their friends to those who attended Westside Christian Church—had sided with him. “I'm not sure what you want me to say.”

“Accepting my apology would be nice.”

“Nice.” The word tasted like dirt in her mouth. “There's nothing nice about this.”

“I thought you'd be happy I don't blame you any longer.”

“I am, but I would be happier if you'd believed before this.”

“I thought about calling you. Several times.”

“But you didn't. You're only here because you have proof.”

His mouth twitched. “Don't make this more difficult on me than it already is.”

“Difficult on you?”

He couldn't be serious, except he wasn't smiling. His chin jutted forward.

Unbelievable. He meant it.

Her blood pressure rocketed into the danger zone. “You canceled our wedding and broke up with me over something I didn't do. You called me a liar in front of your family, friends, and church. My business suffered because no one would hire a distrustful, lying wedding photographer.”

“Jenna—”

She held up her hand, needing to say more. “I'm not finished.”

He nodded once.

“You're the one who didn't want to get married, but I had to call the guests, return gifts, and deal with the finances.”

“You planned everything and knew who to talk to.”

She glared at him. “Because you were too busy with work and your campaign. Your last-minute cancellation meant deposits weren't returned. Most I'd charged on credit cards, thinking we'd pay them off together after we married. A few places were still owed money so I had to cover those bills, even though you were the one who wanted
the huge, expensive wedding that cost two times what I make a year.”

Her tone was hard like granite, the way her heart felt, but she kept her voice low and steady. Yelling wouldn't accomplish anything.

Jenna ignored the look of shock on his face. She wanted him to know how difficult the past two years had been because of his actions. “My name was on the contracts, but legally you were the one responsible since you broke our engagement. That's considered a contract, which you ignored. Unfortunately I couldn't afford an attorney to sue you.”

“I had no idea.” He sounded genuinely surprised.

His not knowing didn't absolve him of what he'd done. “Weddings cost money. Did you think they would return the deposits when we were supposed to get married the next day?”

“I didn't think about that part.”

“Well, I had to. I took on two part-time jobs, and my brother paid the mortgage while he was deployed so I wouldn't lose this house. I thought about taking you to small claims court, but had no spare time and no transportation after my car was repossessed.”

Ash raised his hand as if reaching out to her, then lowered his arm to his side and blew out a breath. “I . . . Sounds bad.”

“I hit rock bottom. I was on the verge of losing everything. Then, one afternoon, I got caught in a downpour. I ran into the Sweetwater Community Church and met the pastor. I don't know where I'd be today if I hadn't wanted to get out of the rain.”

Pastor Dan and his wife, Trish, had worked with Jenna to make a debt repayment plan and given her two part-time jobs at the church—one on the cleaning crew and another with the espresso cart. The couple was a true blessing in her life, a gift from Heaven to help Jenna find her way back, and continued to be so now.

“The pastor and his wife helped me straighten myself out. I'm down to one extra job as a part-time barista and less than a year from having the credit card debt paid off from the wedding you canceled. So excuse me if I'm not sympathetic that your having to apologize for being wrong is difficult.”

Ash stared at Jenna as if seeing her for the first time. He shifted his weight between his feet. “You should have contacted me.”

“I tried.” A thousand-pound weight of broken promises and crushed dreams pressed down on her chest. She took a breath, then another, trying to remain calm.

This wasn't the time to lose it. Pastor Dan had counseled her on the importance of forgiveness and putting the failed relationship behind her, but she needed to get everything out, once and for all. “You never responded to any texts, e-mails, voice messages, or registered letters. When I went to your office, your personal assistant threatened me with a restraining order.”

“That was my father's idea. He . . . I thought you wanted to get back together.”

Another chill traveled the length of her spine. She met Ash's gaze straight on. “I can honestly say getting back together has never once crossed my mind.”

Hurt flashed across his face.

Oh, no. The last time he'd looked that way had been when his photo went viral.

“I shouldn't have said that.” Jenna had been broken and bent over this for too long. No more. She straightened. “I appreciate your coming here. Apology accepted. Let's put this behind us.”

Relief filled his gaze, but his facial expression remained cautious. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” See, she could be civil. Polite, even.

“If you tell me the amount, I'll pay back the wedding expenses.”

Jenna drew in a sharp breath, exhaled slowly. She didn't know if he was serious or not, but she told him the amount. One number she wouldn't forget. Ever.

He didn't grimace or flinch or frown. “Check okay?”

She nodded, not trusting her voice. Any money he sent would help her get out of debt that much sooner. She wiggled her toes.

“Okay,” he said.

Jenna waited for him to say good-bye. He didn't. “You've apologized and offered to send me a check. Anything else you need?”

He rubbed his lips together, rocked back on his heels.

Uh-oh. Only one person made him react like that. “Amber?”

“Yes, she's the other reason I'm here.”

His younger sister had claimed to like Jenna, went so far as to say she was good for her too-serious older brother, yet Amber had allowed Ash to not only blame Jenna for
something she hadn't done, but stood silently at Jenna's side when he stopped the rehearsal and asked for his grandmother's ring back.

That had been the worst day of Jenna's life. Her fingers squeezed tighter around the doorknob. “Amber must have picked today to tell the truth for a reason.”

“She's getting married this month.”

A June bride, like Jenna would have been. Claire too. “Amber's what? Twenty-two now?”

“Yes.”

“Young.”