How to Make a Wedding

by Cindy Kirk

  Yes, the money would help her brother, but Jenna couldn’t get past what Amber had done, then and now. Playing into the young woman’s hands would show her she could get whatever she wanted no matter how she acted.

  “June wedding, right?” Jenna asked, not really wanting to know the date in case she was free.

  “Yes, on the twenty—”

  “I don’t think so.” The words came out of her mouth so quickly she could have been written a speeding ticket.

  “You don’t have to make a decision now.”

  Ash reminded Jenna of a younger version of his father, the respectable and intimidating Judge Douglas Vance, not the eager young lawyer who did pro bono legal work at the community center. Had Ash sold out completely?

  The thought made her sad. She didn’t know why, given what he’d done to her. Memories rushed back. Arguments over the photo. Her denials. His disbelief. The breakup standing at the altar. A living nightmare she wanted to forget but couldn’t.

  Her throat tightened. She thought she’d put this behind her. Ash too. Maybe not, given the way she kept staring at his face and noticing little things like the lines at the corner of his eyes. She swallowed. One more reason to turn down his offer. “I’ve made my decision. It’s no.”

  On the street, Michael walked around the front of his car to the passenger side where Kerri sat. Perfect timing. “My clients are here. I have to go.”

  Jenna hoped her words sounded calm when her insides trembled like a 6.0-magnitude earthquake. She wanted to grab a bottle of chocolate sauce, bypass the spoon, and squeeze the liquid straight into her mouth. Maybe that would stop the emotions—anger, sadness, relief—threatening to overwhelm her. She forced a wasn’t-this-nice smile instead.

  Ash glanced toward the couple getting the puppy out of her crate. “If you reconsider . . .”

  “That probably won’t happen.” She knew she’d left wiggle room with the probably. Maybe he wouldn’t notice. “I appreciate your stopping by and apologizing.”

  “Jenna . . .”

  An elephant stomped on her chest. Okay, not really, but the imaginary weight made her take shorter breaths. Or maybe Ash was the problem. Either way, she couldn’t do this any longer. She’d thrown away the pictures of them together. Time to close the door for good. “Hope life treats you well. Good-bye.”

  Ash stepped from Jenna’s porch onto the brick walkway that split the neatly mowed lawn in half. He passed a smiling couple. The woman held a pink dog leash attached to a small tan puppy who wanted to sniff the grass. Ash’s feet dragged as if he’d walked across quick-dry cement and was carrying ten extra pounds on each shoe. He and Jenna had been happy like her clients, gazing into each other’s eyes, laughing, and picturing a future together.

  He’d messed up. Big time.

  The sun beat down from a clear, blue sky, a taste of summer on this early June afternoon. The warm temperature had nothing to do with the sweat dampening his hairline and dripping down his neck.

  Jenna.

  Over the past two years, he’d thought of her—a flash of a memory during a deposition or an image of her pretty face, warm green eyes, and long blonde hair sitting in church. He had thought about calling her. More times than he wanted to admit. But he hadn’t. Couldn’t. Not after what she’d—

  She hadn’t done anything.

  That realization troubled him, as did the last words she’d spoken.

  His shoes clicked against the brick, an echo of her good-bye, the sound of finality, the end. If only he’d listened to her, but he’d thought he knew best and put his belief behind his family instead of his fiancée.

  Ash’s cell phone vibrated, the third time since he’d arrived at Jenna’s house. Amber’s name and number were on the screen.

  His heart ached, a combination of regret and frustration, over what had happened, what he hadn’t done two years ago.

  He should have believed Jenna. He should have stood by her. He should have done things—everything—differently.

  But he would make amends. Pay her back with interest. Repair the damage to her reputation and business. Making things right for Jenna might make him feel normal again. Nothing—work, friends, church—satisfied him lately, but he had no idea why.

  The phone vibrated again. He wanted to ignore the call. Talking to Amber would upset him more, but knowing his sister, she wouldn’t stop until he answered.

  Might as well get this over with. He tapped the screen. “Hello.”

  “I’ve been calling for the last ten minutes.” Amber sounded annoyed. She should join the club. “Why haven’t you answered?”

  “I was speaking with Jenna.”

  “Oh, good. When does she want to talk about the wedding?” Amber’s words ran into each other. “Did you tell her about the reception location? And I’d like her to take photos of me in my gown after the final fitting? I need one for the Sweetwater Post’s bridal page.”

  His sister didn’t pause to take a breath. She kept on talking.

  “Ash?” Amber’s voice rose. “Are you there? What did Jenna say?”

  He loved Amber, but his sister had ruined everything two years ago. All because she thought he was too serious about his run for the state legislature and needed to loosen up and laugh.

  Going to a comedy club would have accomplished the same goal better than leaking the photo of him walking out of the courthouse in a bunny suit with a trail of rabbits following him. That picture, courtesy of Jenna’s Photoshop skills, hadn’t made him laugh, but turned him into a laughingstock.

  The Pied Piper of the County Courthouse.

  The Bunny Guy.

  The Rabbit Representative.

  The nicknames were as bad as the photo.

  Ash crossed the sidewalk and unlocked his car. “Jenna said no.”

  “What?”

  Amber’s high-pitched, eardrum-bursting screech made his ears ring. He winced, lowered the phone.

  “I can’t believe this. Why would she say no? That’s so rude. We were practically family.”

  “Think about what you did before you start going off on Jenna.”

  “I made a mistake. Two years ago. That’s, like, forever.” Amber was probably shrugging, her favorite gesture, and one that rarely meant confusion or indifference. “Does she want more money?”

  “I offered more. She still said no.”

  “That makes no sense.”

  “An in-person apology from you might have helped your cause.”

  “Not possible. I couldn’t be late to my spa pedicure.”

  Unbelievable. A headache threatened to erupt. He rubbed his temples and decided against sitting in the car to continue this discussion. He wouldn’t be tempted to raise his voice out here. “That’s the important appointment you couldn’t miss?”

  “Don’t go all cross-examining incredulous on me. Foot care is important.”

  Ash gritted his teeth. “Finding a photographer for your wedding should be more important than your toenails.”

  But he wasn’t surprised by Amber’s actions or her words. Their parents had divorced when she was three. Ash had been thirteen, not old enough to understand why his mother had left or why she hadn’t wanted visitation rights, but his younger sister had been traumatized by their mother’s absence. Nightmares, hunger strikes, tantrums. The behavior issues kept compounding instead of improving. He’d done what he could to make things better for Amber. So had their father. Maybe they’d gone too far indulging her all these years.

  “Puh-lease talk to Jenna again.” Amber used her little-girl voice. “Offer her more money. I know. Ask her out on a date. You guys were a cute couple.”

  “We were.” He remembered more good times with Jenna than bad ones. “But those days are over.”

  “Second chances, bro.”

  Not going there. At least not with Amber.

  He should get in his car and drive away, but he didn’t want to leave yet. “Jenna accepted my apology. If you want to change her mind about
photographing your wedding, your first step is apologizing in person.”

  Silence filled the line. Not surprising. Amber never liked being told she was wrong.

  Something moved in his peripheral vision. He looked, but saw nothing.

  “I made a mistake and didn’t own up to it,” Amber said finally. “But you’re the one who overreacted because of a joke.”

  “I didn’t overreact. My opponent used the photo in an ad. My campaign manager resigned. I had no choice but to drop out of the race.”

  Or face the biggest loss in the district’s history.

  “You aren’t cut out for politics. If Jenna had been the right woman for you, Dad said you would have stuck by her, not blamed her the minute something went wrong.”

  Ash stiffened. “What are you talking about? Dad led the case against Jenna.”

  Motive.

  Means.

  Opportunity.

  The last two had been slam-dunks where Jenna was concerned. Only her motive seemed inconclusive. His father, who had sat at both prosecutor and defense tables, thought she might not want to share Ash with constituents and be thrust into the spotlight, given her upbringing, but the odds had been against Jenna from the start.

  “Dad never liked her,” Ash continued. “Wrong family. Wrong part of town. Wrong schools. Wrong type of wife for a lawyer with political aspirations.”

  “You must have agreed or you wouldn’t have called her a liar and broken up with her.”

  Maybe he hadn’t loved Jenna enough to trust her or forgive her.

  I would be happier if you’d believed before this.

  Maybe she deserved a man who would have done both those things.

  “I was wrong.” Praying for guidance would be the smart thing to do, but not even prayer brought him comfort these days. Nothing did. “I hurt Jenna, and I’ve apologized for my mistakes. It’s your turn.”

  A loud sigh sounded in his ear. “O-kay. But I want you with me.”

  Amber sounded nervous—like the time when she was eight and didn’t want to ride the roller coaster at an amusement park near Tacoma. “When?”

  “I’ll be finished in an hour.”

  Not enough time to go back to his office. “I’ll grab a cup of coffee, then meet you at Jenna’s house.”

  Another sigh. “Fine. But if I’m going to this much trouble, she’d better change her mind about photographing my wedding.”

  “Don’t you mean your and Toby’s wedding?”

  Amber harrumphed. The line disconnected.

  Ash opened the car door. Something flashed by again. He looked over the top of his car. Focused. Not a blur, a puppy, the one he’d seen a few minutes ago. She chased her tail.

  He assumed her given the pink collar. The couple she’d been with wasn’t around. Her leash was missing.

  Coffee could wait. The pup shouldn’t be out on her own. She could wander into the street or get lost.

  Holding onto the handle to cushion the noise, he closed the car door. His old dog, a German shepherd named Jefferson, hadn’t liked loud noises. Car doors slamming spooked him. Ash didn’t want to scare the puppy and send her running. Chasing a dog didn’t appeal to him, but neither did the alternative.

  The puppy glanced his way, then returned her attention to her tail.

  He came closer, trying to be quiet and move slowly. He kneeled at the edge of the sidewalk, reached into his pocket, and jiggled his keys.

  Keeping his fingers cupped, he pulled out his hand. “Hungry, pup?”

  The dog scurried forward. The rounded belly and short, uncoordinated legs looked out of proportion to the rest of her.

  “Sorry.” He scooped the dog into his arms. A lick on the cheek was his reward. “No treat this time. We need to get you back where you belong.”

  Ash walked toward Jenna’s house, his steps lighter than they’d been minutes ago. He would get to see her sooner than he expected. He hadn’t wanted to leave, but he had no reason to stay. Until now. He looked at the squirming puppy in his arms. “I have no idea what you’re doing out here, but thank you.”

  “Perfect.” Jenna took two steps back, checked the lighting in her studio, then adjusted her camera lens while Kerri and Michael made silly faces and played with the props. “Ready?”

  The couple nodded.

  Jenna hoped working would push thoughts of Ash from her mind. She forced a smile. “Let’s see those pearly whites.”

  Two toothpaste commercial–worthy smiles appeared.

  She readied her camera. “Now show me your crazy personalities.”

  Michael brought the empty frame closer. He and Kerri stuck their heads through the opening as if they were coming out of the picture.

  “That’s great.” Jenna hopped on a chair to look down on the couple and get another angle. “You two are naturals.”

  Kerri kissed her fiancé. “That’s because he’s so photogenic.”

  “You’re the gorgeous one,” Michael replied.

  “Happy couples make for happy photos.” Jenna kept taking pictures. Kerri and Michael weren’t just happy to be together; they were deliriously happy and very much in love. The way Jenna thought she and Ash had been.

  She swallowed around the lump in her throat. Water under the bridge and all the way out to the Pacific Ocean by now.

  “I want our portrait on your wall like the other couples,” Kerri said.

  “One will be there,” Jenna assured. “But I have a feeling choosing what photo to use will be difficult.”

  A knock sounded.

  She ignored it. “Now I want you—”

  The doorbell rang.

  Strange. She wasn’t expecting anyone.

  Another knock.

  Kerri glanced at the doorway. “Sounds like they aren’t going away.”

  “I’m sorry.” The only people who stopped by were clients. Well, except for Ash. “Someone must want to pick up their prints. Excuse me for a moment.”

  “Take your time.” Grinning, Michael held a top hat prop over his head. “We’ve got plenty to keep us busy.”

  Jenna hurried to the entryway and opened the door. Gasped.

  Ash stood with Peaches cradled in his arms.

  She shuffled back a step. Her skin tingled as if brushed by a feather.

  Two little paws wrapped around his right arm as if holding a beloved toy. Adorable. Puppy drool left dots and drips on Ash’s tie. The tender way he stared at the dog brought a sigh to her lips. Appealing and attractive.

  “Look who I found in the front yard,” Ash said. “I assumed that wasn’t the place for her.”

  His words shook Jenna out of her daze. She motioned him inside. “Peaches must have escaped from the backyard. Thank you for catching her.”

  Ash entered the house, then closed the door. “Least I could do.”

  His six-foot frame filled the entryway in a way she didn’t remember. He’d always been fit, a runner and cyclist, but his shoulders and chest seemed wider, as if he’d been weightlifting. The scent of his aftershave brought a rush of memories, including when they’d met in a church parking lot. “Ash to the rescue.”

  He rubbed Peaches’ head. “Right place, right time.”

  That had been what he said about their meeting. Her battery had died while she’d been trying out a young adult group at a church on the other side of town, and he’d offered to help. She hadn’t noticed Ash during the gathering, but she’d been swept off her feet with a pair of jumper cables and his stunning blue eyes.

  Ash stopped rubbing the puppy.

  Peaches whimpered.

  He grinned. “Her owners are going to have their hands full.”

  “They already do. She escaped earlier today.” Jenna remembered her clients waiting for her. “I need to get back to Kerri and her fiancé in the studio.”

  “I’ll carry the puppy.” Ash hadn’t been inside the studio since she took photographs for his primary run over two years ago.

  Kerri screeched. “Peaches!”
>
  The dog wiggled, squirmed, and barked. Of course, she wanted her mommy.

  Ash handed over the puppy. “I found her running and chasing her tail in the front yard.”

  “Oh, thank you so much. I can’t believe she got out again.” Kerri cuddled the dog close, cooing and kissing at the puppy as if she were a child. “What am I going to do with you, Peaches?”

  “Her paws are getting more efficient.” Michael gave the pup a pat. “I’ll repair any damage she did to the yard or fence.”

  “No problem,” Jenna said. “I’m just grateful Ash found her.”

  Kerri nodded. “You saved us a lot of heartache. Thanks.”

  Ash gave a lopsided smile. “Happy to be of service. I love dogs.”

  “I’m Michael Dewar.” He shook Ash’s hand. “This is my fiancée, Kerri Williams.”

  “Ashton Vance.”

  Kerri cradled the puppy like a baby. Her gaze traveled between Ash and Jenna. “We passed you coming up to the house.”

  Jenna recognized the curious tone. She didn’t want Kerri to think Ash was a potential date. “Ash and I have known each other for a while.”

  “Almost three years,” he said.

  Two-thirds of that time, they’d been out of contact. A part of her wished they still were. Well, except for Ash finding Peaches and offering to cover some of the wedding expenses.

  “I want to take more pictures of you in here, but I’m afraid Peaches will escape if we put her in the backyard again.”

  “Give me Peaches’s leash, and I’ll watch her,” Ash offered.

  Jenna drew back, surprised. “You?”

  “I don’t have any plans this afternoon,” he said. “Playing with a puppy will be fun.”

  Kerri removed the pink leash from her purse, then clipped the end to Peaches’s collar. “She loves to play.”