THE WEDDING DAY WAS HECTIC, but the weather was beautiful, the church perfect aside from the fact that her mother caught the flu and her father wouldn’t be present to make Bobby squirm. Of course, her father liked Bobby, so why give Bobby a chance to win him over again? Aside from the Bobby situation, Marcie was a wreck, and her mother wasn’t much better. And as they neared the fifteen-minute mark before the big event, Jennifer tried to be the calming force in the dressing room. She was failing miserably.
“My shoes,” Marcie said, a hint of hysteria in her voice. “I can’t find my shoes.”
“Hold on, dear,” her mother said, looking tall and elegant in a fitted, pale green suit dress, her voice pretending her normal coolness when she was anything but. Still she added confidently, “I’ll find them.”
The next thing Jennifer knew, the room was awash in lime-green, frantic females as the shoes were nowhere to be found.
“Oh, my God!” Marcie screamed. “I left them on my bed!”
Sharon and the bridal party all gasped in unison. Jennifer squeezed her eyes shut.
“My shoes!” Marcie screamed.
“Her shoes!” Sharon screamed, no longer maintaining her facade of cool.
The girls began a rumble of worried chatter.
“Everyone out!” Jennifer said, her lashes snapping open. “Go to the next room. Marcie needs calm.” Good grief, Jennifer needed calm. And the night of no sleep, as she replayed every last second with Bobby these past two weeks, did not help. Nor did knowing she was going to see him any minute.
Everyone stared at Jennifer, as if shocked that she’d dared demand they leave. Sharon piped in, “Go! Mother has spoken.”
The girls quickly turned obedient and rushed to the connecting dressing room, pulling the door shut.
Jennifer straightened, running her hand over the formfitting, lime-green silk of her knee-length dress and hoping it traveled well. “I’ll go get the shoes.”
“There’s no time,” Marcie said frantically, her veil whisking behind her as she began to pace.
“Stop pacing,” Sharon reprimanded. “You’ll mess up the hem of your dress.”
Marcie whirled on her mother, brushing a red ringlet gently back from her brow, her veil already in place. “I have no shoes, Mother. There’s no time to get the shoes.”
“I’ll make it in time,” Jennifer insisted. “And if we start five minutes late, who cares?”
“That’s right,” Sharon said. “Who cares!”
“I’m going,” Jennifer said, rushing forward and starting to hug Marcie and then stopping in her tracks. “Okay. Pretend I hugged you and was really supportive. I don’t want to mess anything up.”
“Hurry, Jen,” Marcie said. “Please hurry.”
Jennifer was already grabbing the necessary keys, and heading to the door. “And don’t get anything on your dress!” Marcie called.
Right, Jennifer thought. No problem. It wasn’t like she was having a rash of clumsiness or anything. She rushed out into the hallway and cut past the connected hall where the men were dressing. Bobby’s voice rumbled in the air as a door opened, and she caught a quick glimpse of blond hair and broad shoulders in his honorary best man tuxedo.
Her heart skipped a beat as she hit the red exit button on the side of the door and pushed the lever. Only it didn’t open. She hit the button again, her gaze lifting to find Bobby headed in her direction, those long legs carrying him toward her far too quickly.
“Jennifer,” he called.
“Gotta go!” she said. “Errand for the bride.” She shoved the bar on the door, and this time it opened for her. She rushed away. She was on a quest for shoes, not Bobby. Never Bobby. Always Bobby. Damn him.
She rushed across the paved parking lot and cringed. Someone had blocked her car. No. No! This wasn’t happening.
“I thought only the bride and groom ran away at the altar,” Bobby asked from behind her.
Another squeeze-your-eyes-shut moment followed, this time with the added bonus of heat pooling low in her stomach at the sound of the man’s voice.
She inhaled and turned, trying hard not to show the crushing heat in her chest at the gloriously sexy way he filled out his tuxedo. “I need a ride. As in now. Marcie left her shoes at her house.”
Those twinkling blue eyes turned worried. “What are you waiting for? Let’s go.” He yanked his keys from his pocket and motioned her to the right. To a pickup truck. An F150 like he’d said he had back at the base.
Jennifer stopped dead in her tracks. “You’re in that truck?”
His eyes lit with challenge. “I told you I drive an F150.”
A funny feeling swelled in her chest. “How’d it get here?”
“I drove it,” he said and arched a brow. “Now. Don’t we need those shoes?”
Shaking herself, Jennifer started forward. “Yes. Shoes.” She headed for the passenger’s side of the truck. Bobby followed and unlocked it automatically. It was high. Her dress was snug at the knees, and pulling it up would wrinkle it.
“Need help?” Bobby asked, a second before his arms were around her, scooping her up and carefully setting her in the truck.
Oh, God. He made her feel delicate and protected. Jennifer didn’t want to depend on Bobby and have him be gone, but having him come to her rescue now felt so darn good.
His hand settled on her thigh, his eyes alight with male appreciation. “I wouldn’t want your dress to get messed up. Especially when you make it look so good.” The next thing she knew he was shutting the door of the truck and rushing to the driver’s side.
He climbed into the truck and started the engine. They were on the main road in seconds. “I guess Marcie needed one last wedding disaster before the big moment,” he said, chuckling. The sound was rich and masculine, and Jennifer found herself laughing as well.
“Yes,” she agreed. “I’ll need a honeymoon to recover from Marcie’s wedding.” Too late she realized her misstep and she gulped.
“Where,” he said, casting her a teasing smile, “would you want to go for this honeymoon?”
“I didn’t mean honeymoon,” she corrected, her heart about to explode right out of her chest. “I meant vacation.”
“Semantics,” he said.
“It is not,” she said and bit back another word. He was baiting her, and in her heart, she wanted it to be for all the right reasons. But she was scared. “Is the truck supposed to convince me you’re here to stay? And don’t tell me you got out of the Army. Well, you can always go back in with a simple Dear Jen letter.”
He gave an incline of his head and turned down Mark and Marcie’s street, which was thankfully, not far from the church.
“All right. I won’t tell you I got out of the Army.” He turned into the driveway.
Okay. She couldn’t breathe. “Did you?”
He smiled. “You told me not to tell you.” He popped the door of his truck open. “Stay here and protect your dress. Where are the shoes and keys?”
Keys. Keys. Where were the keys. “Purse,” she said. “My purse.” She grabbed it and handed him the keys. “Shoes are on the bed. I hope.” His hand closed over the keys and caressed her fingers a moment too long. Had he gotten out? Had he?
He was gone, though, rushing across the lawn in long masculine strides that had her mouth going dry.
She sat there, her mind racing, fingers curled in her palms. Bobby was making her crazy. Her cell rang, and she dug it out of her purse, knowing it was Marcie without looking at caller ID.
“I’m at the house,” Jennifer said. “Back in five minutes.”
“Is Bobby with you, because word is, he left to get Mark a bottle of water and never came back.”
Oh, damn. “Yes. My car was blocked in. He drove me.”
“Okay,” Marcie said with relief. “Okay. Everyone is accounted for.”
Sharon spoke in the background.
“She’s at the house,” Marcie told her. “You said you’re at the house, right, Jen?”
“Yes,” she agreed, as Bobby rushed out of the house, shoebox in hand. “And we have the shoes.”
“You’re sure?” Marcie asked.
“Bobby’s getting in the truck with them now,” Jennifer assured her.
“You check the shoes,” Marcie said. “Make sure they’re the right ones.”
Jennifer rolled her eyes and looked at Bobby. “She wants me to check them.” He opened the box and Jennifer nodded her approval, before telling Marcie, “The shoes are secure. I repeat, Houston, the shoes are secure.”
“Ha-ha,” Marcie said. “Get your smart-ass back here!” She hung up. Jennifer tucked her phone back into her purse and zipped it.
“Hang on, sweetheart,” he said, backing out of the driveway. “We have a shoe emergency.”
Jennifer laughed at the craziness of the situation, as he skidded out of the driveway, and she clung to the door. A few minutes of traffic maneuvers followed before they were back at the church, with not a parking spot to be found. Bobby pulled to the side of the building.
“We’re parking here,” he announced.
Jennifer reached for her door.
“Don’t even think about it,” he said, gently shackling her arm. “Think about the dress.”
And then he was around the truck, opening her door and scooping her up. He set her down, sliding her down carefully, and reached around her, his body brushing hers, awareness driving her insane.
He handed her the shoes, his blue eyes dancing. “I’ll see you in the church.”
Jennifer raced toward the door, and Sharon greeted her. Sharon snatched the shoes and started to run, as if the shoes were Marcie’s life support. Then, with an apparent second thought, she turned back and grabbed Jennifer’s hand. “Come on! You’re the maid of honor.”
A few minutes of pure chaos ensued until finally the wedding party lined up at the front of the crowded church as Mark and Marcie said their vows. Bobby, though he hadn’t walked the aisle, stood with the groomsmen, his eyes holding hers, unspoken words swimming between them.
This could have been them. But it wasn’t. And Jennifer couldn’t let herself forget that. She’d worked hard to build a life. She couldn’t let Bobby inside that world and then have him disappear again. She loved him too much to endure that pain again.
Standing there, wanting him, needing him, she felt the emptiness inside her as she thought of what might have been between her and Bobby. She tore her gaze from Bobby’s. She’d built a good life. She didn’t want to live fearful over when Bobby would leave again. She wouldn’t let him hurt her again.
THERE WAS CAKE and presents. There was happiness. An hour and a half after the ceremony, the reception was in full-blown, party mode at a building adjacent to an art gallery in downtown Austin, complete with a gorgeous courtyard for pictures.
And there were pictures. Lots of pictures. After the “final” shots with the bride, the groom and the best man, Jennifer was ready for retreat. Especially considering she was oh-so-aware of Bobby nearby, their gazes randomly colliding, her heart skipping a beat each and every time.
“That’s it,” the photographer said, and Jennifer headed to the sidelines.
“Wait, Jennifer!” Marcie called out and turned to the photographer. “I have one more set of photos. Bobby! Where are you?”
Jennifer glared at Marcie and stormed to her side. “Are you nuts.”
“I am perfectly, happily sane,” she said. “Go take the photos. I’m the bride. Do as I say.”
Jennifer glanced over her shoulder to find Bobby standing in photo position. She cast Marcie another glare and silently called her nasty names.
“Hey,” Marcie said with reprimand. “Don’t curse the bride on her wedding day.”
“I didn’t,” Jennifer denied.
“Thinking counts,” Marcie said and pointed to her head. “And I can hear you thinking.” She pressed her hands to her hips. “Now. Go enjoy your man.”
“He’s not my man,” Jennifer grumbled in a frustrated glower before whirling around to face Bobby. He arched a brow. She tilted her chin up and walked toward him. She could do this. Just a few more hours and this would be over.
Bobby slid his hand around her waist. “I missed you, too, sweetheart.”
She turned to face him, forgetting the camera, despite the fact that it flashed. “You never stop, do you?”
He stepped closer. “Do you really want me to?”
No. Yes. No. And why did he have to smell so good? “I want—”
“Jennifer,” the photographer called out, saving her, because she had no idea what she would have said. The photographer’s instructions continued. “Put your hand on Bobby’s upper arm and keep looking up at him exactly like you have been.”
Jennifer did as ordered, every touch, every connection with his body, electric. And he knew it. His eyes smoldered with awareness.
“Perfect,” the photographer declared. “Don’t move.”
“You look beautiful in that dress,” he whispered.
“Stop, Bobby,” she ordered.
“We’re back to ‘stop’ again?”
“Yes,” she hissed. “We’re back to ‘stop.’ Behave.”
“Turn and face forward,” the photographer called out. “Jennifer, in front. Bobby, behind her with your hands on her waist.”
Bobby’s eyes twinkled. “I’m betting he wants you to smile for this one.”
She ground her teeth. “Behave.” She faced forward.
Bobby framed her body with his, his hands settling on her shoulders as he leaned in and whispered, “But you like it when I misbehave.”
“I do n—”
He nuzzled her neck and a shivery, aroused sensation rippled through her body. Jennifer’s lashes lowered as the heat slid through, and for an instant, there was only Bobby.
“Now that’s a picture!” the photographer yelled. “I think that’s it. If the bride is happy.”
“Oh, yes,” Marcie said, wrapping her arm through Mark’s. “I am, indeed, happy. And now it’s time for the first dance. They’re waiting for us.”
Jennifer darted forward, out of Bobby’s reach and didn’t look back, weaving her way into the crowd and near the dance floor, but on the opposite side from the wedding party. She needed space. She eased into a chair, her legs wobbly.
Soon, Marcie and Mark were on the dance floor, in a lover’s embrace. But it wasn’t long until the music shifted to a fun country beat, and a mass of guests crowded in with them.
Jennifer was about to find some water, when she was tugged to her feet by Scott, the best man, and pulled to the dance floor, into the throng of dancers.
“No!” she yelled, but it was too late.
Scott grinned at her and pulled her in far too close. “Everyone knows the best man and the maid of honor have to dance, and we didn’t,” he said, his hand a little too low on her back.
A slow song came on, and Jennifer knew she was in trouble.
“This is my dance,” Bobby said, appearing by her side and towering over Scott by several inches. It wasn’t just that Bobby was big. He wore confidence like a second skin. The kind you didn’t have to announce or flaunt—it simply existed, and that made it, and him, all the more intimidating.
“No problem, Bobby man,” Scott said, making a quick escape.
Jennifer did, too; she darted away, not about to be molded close to Bobby for a slow dance. She quickly worked through the crowd and found a quiet corner.
Bobby appeared and slid his hand in hers. “You promised me we’d go back to that spot I showed you. I intend for you to remember every last second of this night. Meet me at our tree at midnight.”
A night with Bobby. Images of them naked, making passionate love, flickered in her mind and had her squeezing her thighs together. The idea of one last night—well, it was her heart squeezing on that one. She’d tried the big kiss-off nights before and failed. Now this?
She tilted her chin up. “We don’t have a tree.”
“The names carved in it say otherwise,” he reminded her. “You owe me this. You owe us this.” He leaned in closer and brushed his lips near her ear. “I’ll bring a blanket.” He kissed her neck, and then he was gone.
Several hours later, after Marcie had refused to throw the bouquet, handing it to Jennifer instead—with Bobby watching—Bobby was now nowhere to be found, and midnight was fast approaching. The bride and groom were gone. And it was time for Jennifer to decide. Was she going to lay her heart on the line and meet Bobby?
BOBBY STOOD UNDER THAT San Antonio tree, it’s location significant in so many ways. It was the place he’d felt he’d finally conquered his demons. The place he hoped Jennifer had fallen in love with him again. Never as nervous, he surveyed his watch—it was five minutes after midnight. She wasn’t coming. He’d been sure she’d come, sure she’d give them one last chance. And he’d planned. He’d changed into jeans and set the stage. A blanket on the ground, two lanterns and a few big surprises that he hoped would prove he planned to give her the world. But she wasn’t here.
Five more minutes and he was pacing. Another five, and he was on the blanket, sitting down, defeated, staring at their names carved in the base of the tree. His hands slid into his hair, mentally kicking himself for shutting down on her in the car.
A flicker of light jerked his attention to the road. A car. The instant he was sure it was Jennifer, he started to stand, but thought better of it. Her tardiness said she’d hesitated to come here. He’d overwhelmed her or underwhelmed her, he had no idea which. He needed to take things slow, tread cautiously.
She pulled her car next to his truck and killed the lights. Long seconds passed and Bobby barely contained the urge to go after her. Finally, when he was about out of restraint, the door shoved open.
She walked to him, dressed in black jeans and a T-shirt that blended with the night. She stopped at the edge of the trees for just an instant, as if stunned by the romantic setup he’d prepared. He hoped he’d pleased her.
At the edge of the blanket, she towered over him, her hands crossed in front of her. “Hi,” she said softly.
“Hi,” he said, aching to pull her into his arms. “I thought you weren’t going to show up.”
“I thought I wasn’t going to show up,” she said.
“But you did.”
“Yes.”
He patted the blanket. “Will you sit down with me?”
She shook her head. “No. I…I don’t think I should stay. Bobby, all of this…it’s great. You were always great. Always romantic. But…”
“I left,” he said. “I know.” It was all he could do to keep from reaching for her. “The other night when I went silent on you in the car, I wasn’t shutting you out. I didn’t know what I was feeling to put it into words. But I would have if you would have given me a little more time. I wanted nothing more than to hold you and figure out how to save us that night. I was beating myself up with what-ifs. But I would have talked to you. I will tonight. If you let me.” He offered her his hand. “Sit down with me.”
He could see her throat bob, her expression softening in the flickering lantern light. Slowly, she slid her hand to his and went down on the blanket to sit down facing him, her knees, like his, propped in front of her.
He reached out and touched her cheek. “After that night,” he said, “seeing how easily you felt I was pulling away, I knew I had to do more than tell you I was serious about us. I knew I had to show you. And I knew you deserved to know what I was going to be, and do, when I got out of the Army. So I got to work. The first thing I did was fly back to base and sign my exit paperwork. I still have to go back for a week, but I’m done, out.”
“You’ve been a soldier for seven years,” she said. “I saw you save lives at the Hotzone. Don’t get out for me, Bobby. It’s not an either-or. It’s not about that.”
“I’d be gone all the time,” he said. “It’s no way to have a relationship.”
“It’s not about you being gone,” she said. “Not for duty. It would be hard, but I would never make you choose.”
“I know,” he said. “But I’m choosing. I’m tired of death. I’m tired of not having a place to call home. I don’t want to be gone all the time. So…” He reached to the side of the blanket and held up a set of keys.
“What’s that?”
“I had money saved and I put it to use,” he said. “I—we, I hope, are now co-owners of the Hotzone. Rocky was going to sell. I convinced him to bring on a partner instead. I’m hoping to convince the guys you met—Ryan and Caleb—to join us one day.”
Her hand was on his leg now, her voice lifting, a hint of excitement. “You did this already? You invested?”
He nodded. “I did. And I called an Austin Realtor and asked her to send me over some lakeside properties for us to look through.” He handed her a folder. “That dream house we wanted so many years ago, Jen.”
She took the folder, her hand shaking as she thumbed through the pages, and then glanced up at him, her eyes glassy. “Bobby, I—”
“Wait,” he said, kissing her hand and setting the folder on the blanket. “One more thing.”
He pulled her to her feet and discreetly reached in his pocket before going down on his knee and taking her hand. He held up the ring he’d picked out only a few days before, a single stone as big as he could afford—simple and elegant, like her.
“Oh, wow,” she whispered and started to cry.
“Jennifer. I love you. Make me a happy man and give me the chance to show you that, every day, for the rest of our lives. Please tell me I’ve convinced you I’m not going anywhere without you. Marry me, Jen. Be my wife.”
“Yes,” she said, going down on her knees to wrap her arms around his neck. “Yes. I love you, Bobby. I missed you so much.”
He framed her face with his hands and wiped tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. This was the first time since he’d returned that she’d said either of those things to him without any sign of hesitation. “Do you know how good it is to hear you say you love me? Say it again.”
“I love you, Bobby.”
He kissed her and slid the ring on her finger.
“It’s perfect,” she said. “But just for the record, this doesn’t mean I’m going to jump out of a plane.”
Bobby pulled her down on the blanket. “You can jump, baby. Because I’m always going to be there to catch you. You have my word. Now, let’s properly mark out our territory. We do have a blanket.”