“You’re both nervous and excited,” he said. “If the man wants to skydive, to escape that for a day, don’t hold him back. Go with him.”
“I don’t want him to get hurt,” she said.
“He won’t,” he said. “And neither will you. Make up with him.”
“I have been kind of cranky,” she conceded.
“Kind of?” he asked.
She glowered. “Don’t push your luck, Bobby, because I’m still feeling real darn cranky.”
He laughed. “Then be cranky. At me. Not Mark.” He turned her to the door. “Go. Now. Talk to your man and whatever else you do when you make up with him. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She eyed him over her shoulder. “I don’t want to run you off.”
“Go,” he said, giving her a nudge to the door. “I’m fine. Make sure the wedding I came for takes place.”
This time she didn’t argue. Marcie disappeared into the house, and Bobby turned back to the driveway. He had to deal with the Army tonight, because he wasn’t about to risk another interruption with Jennifer. She’d be working tomorrow. So, that left tomorrow night at the party where he had a mission.
He was glad for the interruption tonight. He’d been about to confess his sins, explain the past despite knowing the timing was wrong. He had to make her listen, pull down her guard, before he unraveled the mess that had been in his head the night he’d left, and the years of justifying that followed. That meant a lot of loving, touching and kissing. And then they were most definitely going to talk. That was his mission and Bobby never failed a mission.
Nor was he going to fail Jennifer. Not this time.
5
FRIDAY ARRIVED AND the party was on. And so was the seduction as far as Jennifer was concerned. She might not be good at dating, in fact, some might say disastrous, but she was good at seducing Bobby. At least, the old Bobby, and she refused to consider the present-day Bobby might be seduced differently than in the past, because then her confidence would falter, and her plan with it.
Dressed in cowboy boots, slim-cut, faded blue jeans she’d bought earlier that day, and a pink formfitting, deep V-neck T-shirt accented by a Victoria’s Secret bra that lifted her C cup in an intentionally enticing way, Jennifer stood on the back patio of Mark and Marcie’s house. The unique blend of both bachelor and bachelorette party was in full swing.
With the nearest neighbor’s house a mile away, a DJ freely spun music. At present Carrie Underwood’s “Casanova Cowboy” filled the air, with about ten couples dancing on the small round dance floor in the center of the yard; moments before he’d played Aerosmith’s “Walk this Way.”
At least thirty people, friends and neighbors, mingled in various locales of the house, but the backyard was most definitely the hot spot, where kegs, Margarita machines, long tables of food like the one she stood next to, and barbecue grills, proved to be an enticing lure.
Jennifer sipped a glass of champagne freely, freely because, per Mark’s demand, all guests had left their keys and cab fare at the door. Only the enjoyment of her drink would have been easier, if Marcie wasn’t casting her a scrutinizing stare, ready to hit her with a million Bobby questions. Until now, Jennifer had avoided Marcie’s inquisition. Friday clinic, then the rush to get ready for the party, had thankfully made that possible. But the buck stopped here, and she knew it.
“That kiss last night,” Marcie said, turning to the table and selecting a plump strawberry. “The low-cut shirt tonight, the hot-pink lipstick…you’re going to take Bobby to bed and send him packing. Aren’t you?”
Jennifer glowered. “Will you please obsess about your own husband-to-be, not my man who was to be, but no longer is?”
Her brow quirked as she dipped the strawberry in chocolate. “Decided the chocolate-covered Bobby appealed, aye?”
A slow smile slid onto Jennifer’s lips. “Maybe,” she admitted coyly. The truth was, she’d found herself walking down memory lane. The bedroom variety. The intimate, sexy things they’d done together. And one thing that had replayed in her head, over and over, was how simple seeing him again could be if she kept it about sex. He felt obligated to explain the past to ensure the wedding went well. She’d take away the obligation. She’d keep the simple, in the simple. The pleasure in the solution.
Mark sauntered up behind Marcie. “It’s almost time for the games to begin. How about truth-or-dare to start?”
This might be an unconventional pre-wedding party, but it wasn’t without conventional, naughty fun.
Marcie’s eyes lit. “I can’t wait.” She turned in Mark’s arms and fed him a bite of the strawberry. “In fact. I have all kinds of ‘dares’ I’d like you to personally perform.”
Suddenly, Jennifer’s skin prickled with awareness, the barely audible sound of Bobby’s voice lifted from the depths of party fever, tingling a path up her spine. Instinctively, her gaze lifted the moment he filled the opening of the patio door, tall and broad, his presence demanding attention.