How to Make a Wedding: Twelve Love Stories

What in the world was he doing here?





Her ex-fiancé, Ashton Vance, was the last person Jenna expected to see. Wanted to see. Ever.

He looked . . . good. His classically handsome features seemed more chiseled than two years ago. Maybe that was due to his shorter, corporate haircut. So different from the longer, curly-at-the-ends style he’d worn before. His tailored suit screamed successful attorney. No sign of the beard stubble she’d found so appealing.

She blinked, thinking she must be hallucinating, then refocused. He was still standing on her front step, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Hello, Jenna.”

His voice washed over her like chocolate fondue. Deep, rich, warm. Exactly how she remembered. But hearing him say her name no longer gave her the good, shoot-to-her-toes chills. More like a shiver down her spine.

Please, God, give me strength. A little grace wouldn’t hurt.



She forced herself to breathe. “Why are you here?”

Her voice sounded shaky, the way her insides felt. Ashton had been the man she’d dreamed of being with for the rest of her life. The man who hadn’t believed his own fiancée was telling the truth. The man who’d broken her heart.

“A fair question.”

Nothing had been fair. Not the weeks of crying. Not the months trying to get over him. Not the nearly two years putting herself and her life back together. Jenna’s muscles bunched, one after another, into a mass of triple knots.

She raised her chin, not about to make this easy on him. She was no longer a pushover and had found strength, not in herself, but in God. “Then answer my question.”

Ashton flinched.

Jenna didn’t care. Ashton Vance . . . Ash had been her world. She would have done anything for the man, but she had zero patience now. She wanted him gone.

He glanced around. “May I come in?”

“No.” Turning the cheek was one thing. Acting like an idiot was another. She wasn’t being rude, but practical. “Clients will be arriving soon.”

“Fine.”

A vein throbbed at his jaw. His blue eyes resembled the color of the Columbia River during a storm. She probably shouldn’t take so much pleasure in his unease.

He cleared his throat. “I just found out you didn’t post that photo. I’m sorry for blaming you and calling you a liar.”

Finally.

She waited for relief to hit. It didn’t. Nor did any other emotion now that he’d accepted the truth. She felt disconnected, more observer than participant. Strange, given the times she’d imagined this moment, but his showing up seemed anticlimactic. Maybe because she’d realized their relationship hadn’t been based on unconditional love, but on being the perfect couple, attending the most popular church in town, and having a big wedding so voters would think he was a happily married family man, rather than a bachelor who lived in a downtown condo.

“Amber came clean,” Jenna said.

His lips parted, matching the surprise in his eyes. “You knew my sister sent the photo?”

“Having me Photoshop the picture was her idea. She was the only other person who knew it existed.”

Ash’s gaze narrowed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I did, but you’d made up your mind I had to be the one who posted the picture to the newspaper’s Facebook page.”

“I had. That’s why I want to apologize.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry. I feel horrible for everything that happened.”

“Welcome to my world.”

“Jenna . . .”

“What?” Okay, maybe her words hadn’t been polite, but she’d been honest. The one thing she’d been through the ordeal. Though few had believed her. Everyone—from their friends to those who attended Westside Christian Church—had sided with him. “I’m not sure what you want me to say.”

“Accepting my apology would be nice.”

“Nice.” The word tasted like dirt in her mouth. “There’s nothing nice about this.”

“I thought you’d be happy I don’t blame you any longer.”

“I am, but I would be happier if you’d believed before this.”

“I thought about calling you. Several times.”

“But you didn’t. You’re only here because you have proof.”

His mouth twitched. “Don’t make this more difficult on me than it already is.”

“Difficult on you?”

He couldn’t be serious, except he wasn’t smiling. His chin jutted forward.

Unbelievable. He meant it.

Her blood pressure rocketed into the danger zone. “You canceled our wedding and broke up with me over something I didn’t do. You called me a liar in front of your family, friends, and church. My business suffered because no one would hire a distrustful, lying wedding photographer.”

“Jenna—”

She held up her hand, needing to say more. “I’m not finished.”

He nodded once.

“You’re the one who didn’t want to get married, but I had to call the guests, return gifts, and deal with the finances.”

Rachel Hauck & Robin Lee Hatcher & Katie Ganshert & Becky Wade & Betsy St. Amant & Cindy Kirk & Cheryl Wyatt & Ruth Logan Herne & Amy Matayo & Janice Thompson & Melissa McClone & Kathryn Springer's books