Jenna turned her head and smiled at her mother, tears brimming in her eyes. “Thanks, Mom.”
“No problem, honey. Don’t cry, you’ll smudge your make-up,” she replied, reaching for a tissue in her pocket—which she always seemed to have on hand—and dabbed at her daughter’s face. “You want to look nice for the pictures, don’t you?”
Jenna nodded, trying to suppress her happy tears. Her mother didn’t know that she and Ryan had already been through the worst of the worst. But they had gotten through it, and now there was nothing—absolutely, positively nothing—that was going to tear them apart. After all, if they could find a way to deal with Jenna’s infidelity and move on, then they could deal with any curve ball.
Of course, it hadn’t been easy. Jenna had cried when Ryan had symbolically re-proposed, but there had been a lot of tears that had followed afterward, too. They couldn’t just erase their memories and pretend that it never had happened; they had to accept that they had each made mistakes in their relationship, and then they had to learn from them in a healthy manner and move forward. It had been difficult, and there were several times when they each had wondered if they could put the past behind them. Jenna had even suggested that they postpone the wedding until Ryan could fully trust her again, and at first he had agreed. Until he realized that he still wanted to marry her, which was why he had given her the ring again, so waiting one more year wouldn’t matter. He’d made the commitment, and he was going to stick with that decision.
Jenna and Ryan had decided to keep her affair a secret, and Nick had concurred. It didn’t hurt that Ryan had put a target on his back and had taken him out at practice every chance he got. Nick took the abuse, convinced that he deserved it, but it seemed like the two teammates had somehow gotten past it. They certainly weren’t the best of friends, but then again they weren’t before, either. They’d learned to reconnect on the ice and in the locker room. Ryan had accepted that even those in leadership positions were liable to have lapses in judgment and make mistakes, and the fact that Nick felt such immense guilt helped Ryan forgive him.
The first few weeks after their devastating blowout were the hardest on Ryan. He had remembered every day what she had done, and he second-guessed his decision more than once. It wasn’t until Christmas, when he went the whole day without thinking about her affair, that he realized it was eventually going to get easier. That he wouldn’t always think about it every day, and that the hurt wouldn’t always be so strong.
Jenna did her best to uphold her promise. She and Ryan didn’t always agree, especially once the wedding planning had gone underway again, but she had been respectful of his opinions and had been patient with him as he worked through it all. And Ryan, likewise, had done his best to be understanding of Jenna’s stances and feelings throughout the course of the planning. They’d gone through hell together, and they had walked through the fire and come out a stronger, better couple for it.
After her mother had finished wiping away Jenna’s tears, with minimal ruining of her make-up, she pressed the tissue to her own face. It was an emotional time for her, to see her baby getting married to the man whom she had loved for so long. As a mother, she had wanted only the best for her only child, but she knew very well that not everyone got their well deserved happily ever after. But Jenna was getting hers, and that’s all a mother could ever hope for.
A knock came at the door, disrupting their mother-daughter moment. Jenna invited that person in, and Alex entered. He was fulfilling his duty as best man by delivering the bride’s gift. Her mother headed to the restroom while Alex presented her with a large, velvet box.
“Okay, Jenna, before I give this to you,” Alex said with his trademarked lop-sided smile, “I have to say it just once more. Are you sure you want to marry Biggie without knowing what you’re missing out on? Because I could show you, right here, right now, what a real man can do—”
“No fucking way,” Jenna replied quickly and surely with a laugh. Alex was taken aback by her language and by how well she took his proposition. Usually, she would respond with venom, but she was good humored about it now. Jenna knew that she would never need to know another man’s touch to convince her that she already had a real man, overlooking the minuscule fact that she had in fact needed someone else to show her that. “And I’m sure you’ve already tried to tell Ryan that he should back out of this wedding, too, but it’s happening, Frazier, whether you like it or not.”
Alex smiled at her again, knowing that neither of them ever took him seriously. He didn’t even take himself seriously, but as long as everyone was happy, that’s all he cared about.
She opened the velvet box and found a strand of flawless, white, seven-millimeter pearls. Jenna knew from the box that it was going to be jewelry, but the necklace took her breath away regardless. Skimming her fingers across the shiny beads, she smiled. “They’re so beautiful.”
“I think Biggie just wanted to be able to say he gave you a ‘pearl necklace.’” He laughed at his dirty joke and sexual innuendo. “Get it?”
Jenna giggled and smiled with Alex, not letting anything bring her down from her high. As far as she was concerned, he could make any pathetic joke he wanted, because it wouldn’t affect the outcome of the day. By sunset, she’d be Mrs. Ryan Linsenbigler. “Yeah, I get it.”
“Wow, you must really be in a good mood if you’re laughing at my jokes.”
“Of course I’m in a good mood. I’m getting married today.”
“By the way, he’s outside in the hall. He wants to talk to you, but he wasn’t sure how you’d feel about it, because of the whole not-supposed-to-see-the-bride-before-the-wedding thing.”
“It’s okay with me,” Jenna replied. “I don’t care about the superstitions.”
Alex nodded and headed for the door, opening it and waving at Ryan to enter. Ryan walked in, looking dapper and handsome in his tux. Jenna smiled at him, and he smiled back; they shared a moment as they locked eyes and let the background fade away. Neither one of them noticed as Alex snuck out of the room, leaving them alone.
“Jenna, you look... so beautiful,” Ryan said with a low voice. He meant it with sincerity; but her angelic appearance stunned him like he had taken a hit that had knocked the wind out of him. She was in her white satin dress, the sides of her dark blonde hair pulled up loosely with a few dangling curls around her face. Now he knew why grooms were supposed to wait until the ceremony before seeing their brides, but Ryan also knew that no matter how often he looked at her, she would always evoke that response in him.
“And you, Ryan, look so very handsome,” she replied. The color of his vest brought out the fierce green of his eyes. Seeing him dressed in his tux made Jenna anxious to get the ceremony over with, wanting so badly to bind herself with him through marriage. She ran her free hand over his broad shoulder and down his chest, removing imaginary lint. “No cold feet, I hope?”
“Never.” He smirked at her, knowing that he could never back out now. Not only had they been through so much, but also they had gotten through so much. They were always meant to be together. “May I?” he asked, gesturing toward the box in her hand. She nodded at him, and Ryan took the necklace in his hands. Jenna turned and swept her away out of his way, allowing Ryan to easily place the strand around her neck and clasp it at her nape. Then he kissed the back of her neck, sending chills down her spine. “I can’t wait to be married to you.”
“Me neither,” she replied, turning around and throwing her arms around his neck. “Thank you for this.” The simple strand suited her: a classic piece of jewelry that was a staple in every woman’s collection. It was a symbol of just how far they’d come in their relationship, that Ryan would get her something that suited her personality better than her engagement ring did. But just as Ryan complemented Jenna, the ring complemented her finger.
“You’re welcome.”
“I got you something, too,” Jenna added slyly.
“Really? What?” He placed his han
ds around her waist, the smooth fabric of her dress allowing his hands to slide to the small of her back and pull her toward him until the length of their bodies touched.
“I’ll have to show you later.” She stood on her toes and whispered in his ear, “I’m wearing it under my dress.”
Ryan groaned in anticipation. “What do you say we lock this door, and you can show me right now? Hmm?” He placed his lips over hers before she could answer. His right hand moved to her face, and his thumb stroked her cheekbone.
“Ryan Linsenbigler! Get out of here!” Linda hollered as she reentered the room. “You’re smudging her lipstick! Stop it!”
Jenna giggled as Ryan pulled away, holding up his arms to protect himself as Linda playfully waved her clutch in his direction and shooed him away from her daughter. “Okay, Mrs. Roberts! I’m going, I’m going!”
“Oh, Ryan. You might as well start calling me ‘Mom.’ But if you don’t get out of here now, you’ll be limping down that aisle,” she teased, pushing him out the door and closing it behind him.
“I love you, Jenna!” he called through the door.
“I love you, Ryan!” she yelled back, still chuckling at the antics of her mother and future husband.
“Ugh, I knew it. Your lipstick is all over the place,” Linda observed, pulling out another handy tissue and wiping at Jenna’s face. She let her mother perform the task before she reapplied her lipstick. After a few more minutes, Jenna’s father knocked on the door and escorted her down the aisle to an awaiting Ryan.
The whole ceremony felt surreal to the two of them. They’d already made the commitment to get through the worst; everything after this was going to be easy. Jenna and Ryan recited their vows and exchanged shiny bands of gold. She could hardly contain her tears as the officiator pronounced them husband and wife, and Ryan wiped them all away with the pads of his thumbs as he took her face in his hands and kissed her once again. No one was complaining this time that he smudged her lipstick.
Nick expected it to be more difficult to watch Jenna and Ryan get married. He sat in the pew with the rest of his single teammates; there were few of them, but they banded together to sit through the ceremony. It wasn’t so bad, though. Even though he hadn’t found anyone for himself yet, the feelings he had harbored toward Jenna had faded enough that he could watch her get married without an ache in his chest.
He planned on sticking around at the reception for just long enough to offer his heartfelt congratulations, and then he was going to leave. The two of them had been nice enough to not revoke his invitation—although it would have looked mighty suspicious if he had been the only Blackhawk to not be invited—but he didn’t want to be there if he would serve as a reminder to what had happened last autumn.
After the dinner, the toasts had begun. Jenna and Ryan drank from the Stanley Cup after each of the speeches. The Hawks had won the Cup just two weeks prior, and somehow, as the charismatic captain, Ryan had managed to get the Cup at his reception. Her mother had given her a plastic poncho to wear, so Ryan wouldn’t spill any champagne on her wedding dress as he lifted the giant silver Cup for her to sip from. They looked so happy, and it was impossible to not feel happy for them.
And, after all, Nick wasn’t doing so badly for himself. Not only had the team made it to the Finals—they had taken the series in six games. The only thing that would have made it better would have been to win it on home ice, in the United Center. His family had been there to celebrate and partake in the celebration with him. What else could a twenty-two-year-old hockey player ever hope for?
Nick and Jenna hadn’t done anything together, alone, since she had left his apartment to return home. He was sure it had been a conscious decision made by both guilty parties, even though neither of them had verbalized it. They still saw each other at team functions, but they didn’t make plans to go anywhere or do anything beyond that. There was no ill will, and Ryan had never forbidden Jenna from seeing or speaking to Nick; things were just easier that way.
He stepped up to the bar and snatched another flute of champagne. Now that he had won the Cup, he could let loose a little bit and enjoy the simple things before beginning his training routine for the next season. Things had come full circle for him—in fact, he could still remember the conversation he’d had with Jenna at her engagement party before the preseason almost one year ago.
“It’s Nicky, right?” He looked behind him for the source of the voice. It had taken him off guard; no one had called him Nicky since Jenna. “Or do you prefer Nicholas?”
He shrugged. “Either’s fine, but usually I just go by Nick. You’re, uh, um.... Oh, shoot. I’m so embarrassed.”
“Katie,” she replied, standing next to him at the bar and taking a flute also. “We met very briefly at—”
“The Art Institute,” Nick said, finishing her sentence for you. “You’re Jenna’s friend. From grad school.”
“That’s right!” Katie smiled.
“I remember now. I’m usually a lot better with names. I had a concussion, though, when we first met.”
“Oh, well then, I think I can forgive you for that. Just as long as you don’t forget it again,” she flirted.
“I won’t, Katie,” he replied, surprised at himself for flirting back.
She tried to hide her smile behind her glass of champagne. She’d asked Jenna about her friend a couple times since the three of them had met back in October, but Jenna hadn’t picked up on any of her hints or clues. Katie was glad for the second chance to make a good impression on him, but she blanked on any witty comments to say. Being around hot men usually did that to her. “It was a very nice ceremony,” she said, and then she kicked herself for making such lame small talk.
“It was. I don’t think I’ve ever seen two people who belonged together better than them.” They watched as the dance floor cleared and Jenna and Ryan danced to their song.
“How romantic,” she sighed, addressing both their dance and Nick’s expressed sentiment. Between the ambiance of the reception and the sensitive man in her company, Katie could practically feel herself melt.
Nick and Katie stood in silence for a moment as they leaned against the bar and sipped their drinks, watching the bride and groom sway rhythmically in time with the music. One song ended and another began; now that their song was over, more couples began to migrate to the floor.
“Katie,” Nick began, nervously trying to find the right words. It was a simple question, but it was still hard for him to find the proper tone. “Would you like to dance? I mean, with me?”
Trying to downplay her excitement, she casually replied, “Sure.” Her pulse quickened as he held out his hand to her. She placed her palm over his, and he led them to the floor. Katie placed her left hand on his shoulder, her right still in his hand; Nick tightened his grip and placed his free hand high on her waist. They stood close together, although not too close. Their bodies lightly glanced as they swayed.
As they moved in place, Nick caught the eye of Jenna across the floor. She smiled over Ryan’s shoulder, and Nick nodded in acknowledgment. Jenna looked back and forth between Nick and Katie before raising her eyebrows and expressing her approval—at which Nick blushed. Jenna placed her left cheek against Ryan’s right shoulder, tightened her hold around his neck, and nestled in against him.
Nick looked down at Katie, giving her a crooked but hopeful smile. Katie returned it, marking the beginning of a billion possibilities.
Keep reading for a sneak peek of Jaymee Jacob’s next novel, Shots on Net....
“How dare you walk away from me when I’m talking to you! This is my castle, Louis, not yours!”
It would only be a matter of pages before one of them snapped. Elspeth, a fair Anglo-Saxon maiden, was fiercely bantering with Louis, the French earl who had been granted the rights to Elspeth’s plot of land by William the Conqueror after the historic 1066 Norman invasion. Headstrong and feisty, she adamantly refused to back down or to obey orders from a foreign autho
rity. As the lady of the castle, she knew that it was up to her to defend her family’s honor; the land belonged to her uncle, who had been killed during the resistance. Uncle Ælric had been her only family, and she was determined to avenge his death.
Louis, however, was nothing more than amused by the fiery, frustrating redhead and her defiance. As an earl, he was rich and handsome—but, beyond that, he was especially favored by William the Conqueror, so he was not used to having anyone, least of all a maiden, stand up to him. Louis purposely fought and argued with her, delighting in the way she rose to the challenge. Such plucky women could not be found in all of Normandy. The tension between them was palpable and overwhelming as they subtly but surely started to fall for each other; they wouldn’t be able to maintain their distance for much longer.
It was a perfect day to get lost in a good book. Dark, cumulonimbus clouds had rolled in from the west, blocking out the sun and threatening to downpour on an otherwise normal Saturday afternoon. Shannon sat at one of the tables in the busy, bustling café, surrounded by people but lost in the pages before her. Her elbows were perched rudely on the table, her book nestled in her hands. Her eyes flitted back and forth across the lines of prose, soaking up every word as if each one held a special secret, just for her.
She was a regular there on Saturdays, opting for a change of scenery after a long, grueling workweek. Coming to the café was the highlight of her week and the best way for her to unwind and de-stress after forty hours of phone calls and countless rejection letters. She could sit there for hours, only moving to turn the page as she savored the story, chapter by chapter.
All the baristas knew her well. She always ordered a coffee and sipped it until it was tepid—and then she’d get a top off to heat it back up. None of the employees minded though, because she tipped well for the privilege of taking up a table for the majority of the day. On that particular Saturday, her cup sat full and steaming on the table, mostly ignored as Elspeth chased Louis through the dimly lit corridor. He promptly ignored her, bemused by the way she buzzed after him like an insect; as much as Elspeth said she despised the French brute, as she liked to refer to him, she always seemed to be close by.
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