Pregnant at the Wedding / Baby Business: Pregnant at the Wedding. Katherine Garbera
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and the second the next dance stopped, Ashley approached the bride. “Cakecutting time,” she stated. “I have the photographer ready and waiting.”
“Thanks, Ashley. This is wonderful!” Emily gushed.
“I’m glad. By the way, I don’t recall Ryan Warner’s name on the guest list,” she added casually.
Emily shrugged. “Ryan and Jake and our best man, Nick Colton, are the closest of friends. They all grew up together. Ryan was in Europe and tied up in business and said he couldn’t make the wedding, but then he surprised us this morning, and here he is. Do you know—”
“There’s the photographer,” Ashley interrupted, having another rush of apprehension. “Go get some great pictures!” She hurried away, relieved that soon all eyes would be on the bride and groom.
Certain nothing would go wrong with the photographer and that cutting the cake would be uneventful, Ashley rushed to the powder room to get herself together. Jake still had to throw Emily’s garter and she had to toss her bouquet, but little by little, they were getting through the reception. It would be over soon, but not soon enough.
When Ashley rejoined the crowd, the band still played and couples danced. She didn’t see Ryan and, praying he had left the reception, she hurried to check on the tables of food. She was looking at the swan ice sculpture on the center table when a hand wrapped lightly around her wrist.
“Well, hello,” said a deep voice, and her heart missed a beat.
She turned to look into curious green eyes, eyes fringed with thick black lashes beneath a head of wavy black hair. Eyes as green as a meadow and sexy enough to make her pulse jump. It was those unforgettable eyes that could wreak havoc with her insides.
“What are you doing here?” he asked. “Do you know Emily and Jake?”
“Yes, I do. It’s nice to see you,” she said, intending to escape, aware he still was holding her wrist lightly. With his hand there, he might be able to feel her racing pulse.
“Let’s dance,” Ryan said, drawing her the few steps toward the dance floor. Dressed in a navy suit and white shirt, he stood out in the crowd of other well-dressed men. She suspected that it was due to an aura of self-assurance and his commanding manner.
“I can’t dance today. I’m the wedding planner and I’m working.”
“I knew you were a wedding planner. It didn’t occur to me that you might be hired to do this wedding.”
“When I’m working, I don’t dance,” she said, pulling back slightly as they walked a few more steps to the dance floor. She didn’t want to make a scene, yet she knew she had to get away from him.
“Nonsense,” he said, smiling at her and taking her into his arms.
Even though she hoped to escape, she couldn’t keep from noticing his firm jaw, prominent cheekbones, straight nose and broad shoulders. She remembered the last with absolute clarity—shoulders that were muscled, and a chest that was rock hard. She recalled everything about him in detail. As her face flushed, a mixture of emotions battled in her.
She had to get him out of her life, and the sooner, the better. Memories of his kisses taunted her as her gaze drifted over his features. When his attention lowered to her mouth, her breath caught.
“You ran out on me,” he said, steadily watching her.
“Yes, well, that weekend was a mistake I’ve regretted terribly.”
“Ouch! You didn’t seem so unhappy at the time,” he said, studying her.
“It was uncharacteristic for me. I’ve never…never let go like that. Frankly, I’m working, and I’d rather not discuss it,” she said, wishing her voice was firmer, too aware of each time their legs brushed.
“You look as beautiful as I remember,” he said in his deep voice, and she grew warmer, pleased in spite of her concerns.
“How many women have you said that to recently?” she asked. “Look, I need—”
“No, you don’t. The reception is going great and the bride and groom are having a blast. Relax and enjoy a dance with me. Uncharacteristic or not, why did you run out like that?”
“I just told you the reason. I meant it.”
“Then you had a big change of heart, because for forty-eight hours, we got along great. The best,” he said in a deeper voice, and she knew he was remembering when they had made love.
“That’s over,” she said. Ashley wondered where the firmness in her voice had gone and why he had such a potent effect on her.
“You don’t say,” he murmured. “I hunted for you, but there wasn’t any A. Smith, wedding planner listed in the phone book.”
“I don’t have a landline,” she said, thinking how civilized they were behaving. At the same time, she was torn between wanting to kiss him and wanting to run from him.
“And here my buddy Jake hired you and has been working with you.”
“Actually, I’ve worked more with Emily.”
“Maybe, but Jake knew about you. It never occurred to me to ask him about his wedding planner. I’m not into weddings much.”
“You made that clear at the time,”
He grinned. “At least you haven’t forgotten me.”
“That’s impossible,” she snapped, and one of his dark eyebrows arched in question.
“Why do I get the feeling that there is something wrong here?” he asked her with an intense scrutiny that worried her.
“Because something is the matter. I told you that I’m working. I shouldn’t be dancing.”
“I don’t think that’s it,” he said, and she looked away, thinking he was far too perceptive. His arm tightened around her waist, drawing her closer.
She was acutely conscious of their physical contact, her hand in his warm hand, her other hand on his shoulder while they moved together. She looked up at him, hating that each time she gazed into his eyes, her heartbeat quickened.
“Look, that weekend we had is over.” He spun her around and danced her into a corner. “I’ve moved on with my life,” she added.
“I don’t usually strike out like this,” he said, still studying her. “I want to talk to you,” he stated in a low voice, drawing her nearer to him.
“Look, I need—”
“I thought we both had a great time. I got the impression that you were as happy with the situation as I was.”
“I told you, I sort of lost myself that weekend,” she said, as she wriggled away from him, taking a step back to put more distance between them. Even still, he was too close. His mouth was only inches from hers. Half of her wanted to stand on tiptoe and kiss him, and the other half wanted to break and run. The sensible half needed to get away, and she tried to concentrate on doing that as quickly as possible. What was it about him that scrambled her cool logic so badly?
“I thought our time together was fantastic, and I’ve missed you and searched for you,” he insisted in a thicker voice that turned her insides to jelly.
“I’m sorry,” she replied, remembering her reasons for wanting to avoid him, determined to end the conversation. “I may have ruffled your ego, but I’ve seen pictures of you—just recently with a gorgeous redhead on your arm. You haven’t been pining away, without me. It’s over. You may not be accustomed to hearing that, but get it through your head.”
“You’re saying it’s over,” he replied, “but what’s wrong with renewing our acquaintance?” He took her wrist once more, and she knew he could feel her revealing heartbeat.
“If