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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?”


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