How to Rope a Real Man (9 page)

“Where did everyone go? I thought Marti was going to style my updo.”

“She is,” Amy answered, “but I sent her to make sure Kellan’s hair was behaving itself. Lord knows he can’t get it to lie flat. Really, though, I wanted to get you two alone to tell you the good news.”

Good news? Excellent. Good news was the best kind of secret. And, bonus, Amy hadn’t kept them waiting long at all to spill the beans. Jenna sank onto the sofa on the opposite side of Amy from Rachel, her heart rate picking up speed in anticipation.

Amy sat up straighter, curling her hands over her knees. “As you know, the tequila shot I drank last night didn’t sit well with my stomach.”

Rachel snorted. “That’s putting it mildly. The way you sounded in that bathroom, I thought an alien was trying to break free of your body.”

The look Amy gave Rachel could’ve leveled a building. “Thanks for the poetic reminder, Rach. Really.”

Rachel didn’t take the hint to zip her trap. “Are you telling us you have good news about puking up tequila?”

Amy’s wedding dress rustled as she jagged sideways on the sofa with a little hop to face Rachel. “I swear, you are the most literal person I have ever known.”

And they were off. Jenna shot to her feet and wedged her posterior between her sisters. “Time out. You two can argue while I’m getting my hair done. Spill it, Ames—what’s your big secret?”

It took rolling her tongue over her teeth and a deep sigh for Amy to collect herself. “Back to my story. After that one time getting sick at the saloon, I felt better until the morning when I couldn’t hold down breakfast.”

That kind of intermittent nausea could only be one of two things, Jenna figured. And the anxiety attack option didn’t involve sitting your sister down for good news. She clapped a hand over her mouth as reality dawned on her, trying desperately to let Amy finish her story.

“Kellan insisted on dragging me to urgent care, hoping that whatever was wrong, we could get some medicine. Not only so I could function at the wedding, but because we’re leaving on our honeymoon tomorrow. Imagine how stupid we felt when the nurse told us—”

“You’re pregnant!” Jenna hadn’t meant to beat her to the finish line, but she couldn’t contain her joy any longer.

The smile stretching Amy’s lips told Jenna she didn’t mind Jenna stealing her glory. “I’m pregnant. And not just pregnant—I’m nine weeks along.”

Rachel rocked back, her eyebrows high into her forehead. “Well, I’ll be. You haven’t had your period in two months and it never occurred to you that you might be knocked up?”

Jenna put her mom skills into practice with a searing knock-it-off look that’d been known to put grown men in their places. Luckily Amy was now floating on cloud nine, complete with a dreamy, faraway expression, and didn’t register the bite in Rachel’s admittedly logical question. “I thought it was wedding stress. You know how I get.” She hummed and drew her shoulders up, hands around her middle. “Kellan and I are so happy. I can’t believe I have to wait seven more months to meet our baby.”

Rachel slipped her arm behind Jenna and rubbed Amy’s shoulder. “Congratulations. I can’t wait to meet him either. Or her. That’s going to be one spoiled baby, I’ll tell you that right now.”

Amy hugged her belly tighter. “No doubt about it.”

Jenna pulled her into a tight hug. “Rachel’s right. Congratulations, sweetie. Even if means you won’t be toasting your wedding with champagne, this is still the best news ever.”

“You don’t think the alcohol I’ve had will hurt the baby, do you?”

Jenna shook her head. “No way. You threw up all the tequila before it could hit your system.”

Amy pulled back, a shadow of worry on her face. “I’ve had more than that. A glass of wine here and there to relax. Kellan likes the way I get silly from drinking.”

Rachel groaned. “T.M.I., for God’s sake.”

Amy angled around Jenna and poked Rachel’s shoulder. “Stop acting like a prude. You know what? I bet you have the dirtiest mind and busiest sex life among us. In fact, I bet you’re into all kinds of kinky stuff. The loud-mouthed, judgmental ones always are.”

Rachel snorted in protest, even though her cheeks pinked. “You’re getting me mixed up with politicians.”

Time to swing the conversation back to neutral territory. She squeezed Amy’s hands. “Sweetie, before I found out I was pregnant with Tommy, you know I was no angel, but he came out fine. Of all the things you could be thinking about right now, that one’s not worth your energy. The OB-GYN’s going to tell you the same thing. Here’s what I want to know—when are you going to start telling people?”

“Kellan should be telling his mom and brother right about now, and then . . .” If possible, her smile grew even wider. “We’re going to make an announcement at the reception.”

Full-steam ahead
must be Kellan and Amy’s relationship theme because nothing they did was gradual or cautious in the least. “Oh, my. That will certainly be the icing on the cake of what was already bound to be the most perfect night ever. The good people of Catcher Creek will be wagging their tongues about your wedding for years to come.”

A knock sounded at the door; then Marti poked her head of bottle-blond hair in. “Everybody decent?”

“That’s negotiable,” Amy answered. She poked Rachel’s shoulder again and whispered, “Kinky beast.”

Rachel grabbed Amy’s finger and twisted it until she squealed.

“You wouldn’t hurt a pregnant lady, would you?”

“You better watch it, little sister, or I’ll advise Kellan to smash that wedding cake right on your nose.”

“He wouldn’t dare!”

Hopeless was what her sisters were. Jenna stood and scooted out of the line of fire. “Glad you’re back, Marti. Time for me to get ready for my close-up.” She took a seat on the chair Marti patted. “Amy, Rachel, you’d better get moving for the pictures before you ruin each other’s hair and makeup.”

The wedding-party photographs went off without a hitch, even though it took all of Jenna’s best kid-wrangling skills to keep Tommy from bouncing off the walls or getting his suit dirty and wrinkled. At the rate he was going, they’d be lucky if his boutonniere survived until the end of the wedding ceremony, much less the reception.

When the photographer announced,
finally
, that they were done and could release the smiles they’d plastered to their faces and regroup before the ceremony, Amy and Rachel headed back to the bridal suite, while Kellan and his groomsmen chatted up the arriving guests. Jenna tucked into a corner of the lobby, keeping one eye on Tommy as she took the opportunity to skim her checklist before showtime.

“Yo, little man,” Kellan said. “You’re looking so fine in that suit that you’re making the rest of us guys look bad.” He squatted to get eye level with Tommy. “It’s not fair. Nobody can compete with cuteness this extreme. But wait, you’ve got something on your jacket. Let me get that.” He stuck his finger in Tommy’s armpit.

Giggling, Tommy buckled over as Kellan doubled his efforts with a finger to Tommy’s other pit. The next time Jenna glanced up from her list, Kellan had Tommy upside down while Tommy retaliated by tickling Kellan in the back of his knee. Petals from his boutonniere sprinkled to the ground. Oh well.

“Your boy’s gotten so big since the last time I saw him. And so handsome.”

“Thank you.” She marked her place with her finger before looking up to see who it was. When she did, her insides clenched. Mrs. Parrish.

“He reminds me of my boys when they were young. Full of spit and vinegar.”

Jenna swayed. The room exploded into a vacuum of space, the sounds far away and floating—the cascade of water from the fountain in the atrium, conversations, the click of heels—and she had no anchor.

“Mommy, I broke my flower,” Tommy said, running her way with a handful of petals.

“It’s okay, buddy. Flowers aren’t meant to last forever.” Heart pounding, she took the flower remnants and gripped his shoulders. He squirmed beneath her touch and stepped behind her as though sensing the shift in the atmosphere.

Mrs. Parrish got down low at Tommy’s level and beamed at him with the wide-eyed, exaggerated enthusiasm of someone who wasn’t used to being around kids. “Hello, young man. We need to have your mommy bring you to my store. I keep candy there.”

He buried his face into Jenna’s dress. “I’m not allowed to take candy from strangers.”

“What a smart answer!” She stood and aimed her too-bright smile at Jenna. “You know, when you were a girl, your daddy brought you into the shop all the time. You loved the cinnamon candies. Neither of your sisters had a tolerance for the heat of them, but you used to strut around, a sassy little thing, flaunting your special treat. How about you bring Tommy around to the shop sometime soon? I could use a fix of the little ones, since none of my own children have seen fit to provide me with any grandbabies.”

“Sure. Of course,” Jenna said, choking on the lump in her throat.

“Such a sweet lad.” Mrs. Parrish reached out to Tommy. He dodged her hand and bolted toward Rachel, who was walking their way.

Rachel took his hand, then leveled a pointed look at Jenna and Mrs. Parrish. “Sorry to interrupt, but Jenna and Tommy are needed in the bridal suite because the ceremony’s about to get started.”

Inching toward the hall, Jenna offered Mrs. Parrish a conciliatory smile. “Thanks for coming. I’d better not keep the bride waiting.” Heart pounding, she hastened after Rachel and Tommy through the hall, not breathing until Tommy disappeared through the bridal suite door.

Though she’d never claim to feel this way as a rule, today Jenna was grateful that five-year-old boys had the attention spans of puppies hopped up on caffeine. Because nobody expected Tommy to remain standing with the wedding party for the duration of the ceremony. Amy wanted him to try to last, but Jenna and Mr. Dixon—Amy’s sous chef and the honorary grandpa of everyone at Sorentino Farm—had created a carefully constructed backup plan involving Life Savers hard candies for when his wiggles got distracting.

As they’d practiced at the rehearsal, he walked with measured steps down the aisle while holding the ring pillow, then stood between Jake and Vaughn. During his walk, Jenna kept one eye on him and the other on the Parrishes, who beamed at him and whispered to each other, hopefully about how precious and cute he looked—not how familiar. She didn’t detect any gleam of awareness in any of their eyes, but that didn’t mean her secret was safe.

Jenna’s anxiety must’ve been palpable because Rachel elbowed her and told her to relax because Tommy was doing great. Tommy took his place between Jake and Vaughn and smiled proudly at Jenna. She shoved aside her fears and nerves and gave him a thumbs-up as the opening strains of “Here Comes the Bride” filled the air.

Amy appeared from around the corner, so radiant and glowing that she seemed to float on Mr. Dixon’s arm. She smiled at the rows of standing people, then her gaze found Kellan’s and she burst into silent, effusive tears.

Amy hadn’t even managed to make it all the way down the aisle at Mr. Dixon’s arm before Tommy’s distracted bouncing of the ring pillow against his knee devolved into whacking himself in the head with it. Thank goodness Jake had the foresight to rescue the rings and transfer them to his pocket.

Mr. Dixon handed Amy off to Kellan’s arm with a kiss on her cheek, then, after exchanging a smile with Jenna, took Tommy’s hand and led him to a seat.

Thanks to Tommy’s inability to stand still, the Parrishes only had a couple minutes to study him, but Jenna remained off balance and nauseous until Amy and Kellan were standing in front of the minister and the people in the audience had settled in to give their full attention to the bride and groom.

She recited the alphabet backward to R and gradually felt her spirit snap back into alignment with her body. Only then did she process how beautiful a ceremony she’d helped orchestrate.

The atrium was a tropical oasis, with floor-to-ceiling windows behind a massive waterfall fountain dropping into a dark pool lined with fauna. Tara had floated pink flowers and candles in the pool and lined the edges with flower petals. One of the arrangements Jenna, Matt, and Tara had created cascaded from the arch behind the minister in a burst of glorious excess that coordinated exquisitely with the bouquets, boutonnieres, and flower-adorned updos of the wedding party.

Amy and Kellan couldn’t take their eyes off each other. Amy’s hormones were probably going haywire because she wept through the whole ceremony. Jenna wouldn’t have put it past Kellan to have planned for Amy’s high emotions because he conveniently produced a handkerchief from his pocket to intermittently dab at her tears and runny nose as the ceremony wore on. It was a romantic, intimate gesture that spoke volumes about Amy and Kellan’s rock-solid relationship and chased Jenna’s nerves away.

Her focus drifted over the groomsmen. Jake stood next to Kellan, looking every bit of the odd man out. Jenna didn’t think she’d ever seen a man more uncomfortable in a Stetson, suit, and dress boots. He squirmed a lot and scratched the beard he’d chosen to keep. Though he’d trimmed it neater, it still carpeted his neck and disappeared behind the tie he’d probably be ripping off the first chance he got.

As opposed to Jake, Matt wore his suit like he was born for it. The cut highlighted his tapered physique and dark eyes and hair. She’d never before seen him in a cowboy hat, but damn did she love the hint of swagger it added to the way he held himself. Would she ever get over how devastatingly handsome he was? If he never changed his mind about giving a relationship with her a chance, she hoped on high she could eventually find peace with having him in her family’s life and give herself a break from
what if
s and daydreams.

Carrie was right. It was time for Jenna to move on. Have a little fun. She was twenty-four and on the verge of wonderful changes in her life. A new job, a new city, a new home. Time to take a page from Tara’s book, flip the proverbial bird to the things holding her back, and seize the day.

Jenna easily found Tara in the audience. She’d changed from her green tank top to a purple, knee-length cocktail dress that flaunted her pale skin and lent vibrancy to the colors of her tattoos. She sat next to two people in their fifties she assumed were Dan and Cynthia Roenick. They had a dignified air about them, like wealthy patriarchs. Dan was an older, stouter version of Matt, but with skin that was several shades more tan—a cowboy tan, it was called around ranch country.

Jenna couldn’t help but wonder if Tara had done as she’d affectionately threatened, filling in her parents about the closeness with which Jenna and Matt had worked together to solve the flower emergency. Given how enthusiastic Tara had been about Jenna and Matt’s teamwork, Jenna wouldn’t be surprised if Mr. and Mrs. Roenick were expecting the two of them to be engaged by the end of the year.

When the minister called for the rings from Jake, the room hushed. Amy and Kellan’s vows captured everyone’s full attention. Though they’d written their own, Amy had been uncharacteristically coy about the content. This was the first time Jenna had heard them. She had to concentrate to catch all the words through Amy’s blubbering, but was deeply moved by the deep, unyielding love pouring from every word. They vowed to cling to each other during hard times, through their whole lives, forever. They pledged patience and understanding, to never let anger get the better of them and to never keep secrets from each other.

On the surface, the vows seemed straight out of a rule book for marriage success. Except that Jenna knew life was more complicated than the beautiful words would admit. Sometimes patience did more harm than good. Sometimes you had to get mad for the other person to hear you. Sometimes secrets needed to be kept.

Her focus strayed to the audience, to the blandly smiling Parrishes. During Jenna and Carson’s final confrontation before he’d left town, he’d intimated that his parents were as guilty as the rest of them for what had happened to him. What part had Lou and Patricia Parrish played in those terrible events? At the very least, they were guilty of a cover-up, and at the worst . . .

Patricia noticed Jenna staring and smiled. Jenna startled and attempted a smile in return, but her pulse sped.

At the worst, she was looking into the eyes of attempted murderers.

Jenna shifted her attention to Amy and Kellan as they sealed their union with a kiss. She clapped with the rest of the crowd, filled anew with joy for her sister—except for the dark corner of her mind that couldn’t shake the sensation that all her years of careful planning weren’t enough to protect her and Tommy.

Fours weeks. All she had to do was lie low for four more weeks and then they’d be out of this town for good, out from under the prying eyes of the community. She followed Amy and Kellan up the aisle, conjuring a visual of herself as an elephant matriarch—unflappable, tough, and singularly focused on the protection of her family.

She and Tommy were going to be okay, more than okay, and she was going to emerge from under the shadow of her secrets fighting strong. Nothing was going to go wrong and no one was going to stop her now.

The reception was a wonderland of flowers. Even though Matt had witnessed Tara’s genius at Carpe Diem, a vision of the final outcome of their efforts had eluded him. Every table burst with blooms of pink, white, and green arrangements that looked like they’d been the plan all along. He couldn’t have been prouder of his big sis.

At the long bridal party table set apart from the other tables at the head of the ballroom’s dance floor, Jenna was seated between Jake and him. The arrangement was awkward as hell, given the painful, humiliating
It’s not you, it’s me
conversation he’d had with Jenna before the ceremony, but now both he and Jenna had their game faces on.

The reality of their relationship moving forward was sure to hit him hard once the dancing got going, but for the time being, they were united in their focus on getting Jake through his best man speech, which the DJ had informed them was coming up next.

“You’re going to do great,” Jenna whispered to Jake.

“Don’t sweat it, man. You’ve got this,” Matt added. He leaned behind Jenna’s back and lightly socked Jake’s shoulder.

Jake nodded without looking up from the table, his blank expression drilling a hole in the floor as if he were a prizefighter sitting in a corner, waiting for the bell to ding. It took the DJ two attempts to get Jake’s attention to pass him the microphone. Jake took it in hand and met Jenna and Matt’s supportive smiles, panic radiating in his eyes.

“Seriously, man, you’ve got this. Just read your notes,” Matt whispered.

With grim resolve, Jake stood and faced the crowd. From his inside jacket pocket he pulled a folded paper that crackled into the mic as he opened it. Silence descended over the room. For nearly everyone in attendance, today marked their first glimpse of Kellan’s brother, and for some, their first time learning Kellan had a sibling in the first place.

Jake stared at the paper, his Adam’s apple bobbing in a swallow. “Thank you all for coming out tonight for this wonderful celebration of my brother and his new bride. Isn’t Amy beautiful? When we—” Applause and hoots cut off his hastily spoken words. His shoulders twitched like the sound surprised him.

Jenna pressed near Matt’s shoulder, crowding him with her good smells and warmth—and an extraordinary view down her dress that he pointedly avoided. “We should’ve written in the pause.”

They’d prepped Jake about taking a breath after he read that question to let people clap their agreement, but it seemed he was way too nervous to do more than exactly what the paper indicated. It was a great speech, though, and no one was expecting an Oscar-worthy performance. “He’s doing fine. Tricky part’s over.”

Once the cheers subsided, Jake scanned the speech until he found his place. “When we were kids, Kellan and I used to play cowboys and robbers in the streets of our neighborhood. We’d sneak rubber bands from people’s newspapers and turn sticks into rubber band guns.”