Jump Start (17 page)

“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?

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.”

“I’ll get the plates,” Mark said. “The flight was long, and I’m starving.”

Marcie surveyed Bobby. “You’re still here. Should I assume you are now a civilian?”

Jennifer leaned in and wrapped her arm around his waist. “I decided to keep him. And…” She bent down and unlatched the cat cage that was hidden behind the counter. She lifted Ella. “And we’re hoping you will keep our wedding gift and give her lots of love.”

Marcie gasped and took the cat into her arms. “She’s beautiful.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Mark, isn’t she beautiful?”

Mark smiled, love in his eyes, an appreciative look cast between Jennifer and Bobby.

Several minutes of spoiling the cat followed until Bobby said, “We hate to gift-and-run, but I have to be back on base for a week, and then Jennifer and I are flying out from there for a little trip.”

Ella purred in Marcie’s lap, and suddenly, Marcie noticed the ring. “You have a ring! A ring! Mark, they’re getting married.”

Jennifer could feel herself glowing. “Yes. Actually next week. On a beach in Mexico. Just the two of us.”

Marcie argued about not being able to attend, but in the end, she hugged Jennifer and Bobby and begged for pictures. Jennifer and Bobby left shortly after, ready to begin their new life together, while Marcie and Mark learned how to take care of baby Ella.

Seven days later, Jennifer and Bobby stood barefoot on the sandy beach of a Mexico resort, the bluest water Jennifer had ever seen as the backdrop. Bobby wore a tuxedo, and Jennifer wore a long, formfitting white dress, with delicate embroidery. It was just the two of them, the preacher and a photographer. There was no music, no fancy frills. Only confessions of the heart. Simple romance, just how they wanted it. Of course, they’d had to promise the families a cake-tasting reception upon their return, which had an ever-growing invitation list. But for now, they had escaped into their own private world.

How Jennifer made it through the ceremony without crying, she didn’t know. She could hardly believe that after all those years they’d been apart, she and Bobby had found their way back to each other. And finally, the preacher pronounced them “man and wife.”

Bobby stared at Jennifer, love brimming from his eyes, and pulled her close. “You’re everything to me, Mrs. Evans.” And then he kissed her. Jennifer cried then—happy tears, joyful tears—and since she’d never replaced her waterproof mascara, she was pretty sure she was going to look like a mess for her photos. But she was too happy to care. She had just married the man of her dreams and they had a lifetime to make perfect pictures.