The guests were here. The minister was here, all in the church waiting.

Waiting.

Her stomach rose and fell. She swallowed hard, fighting a sudden rush of nausea. She hadn’t slept well last night, nervous. Excited.

Excited, she silently insisted. Not terrified. Or sad. She would never be sad. This was the right decision. This was the best decision. It was.

It had to be.

“Can you say that again?” she asked him, fighting her veil and tamping down the horrible rush of adrenaline flooding her veins. “I didn’t hear you, honey.”

He hesitated.

She stared at his mouth, focusing on his lips, not wanting to miss a thing this time.

And looking at his mouth, she tried to feel reassured. Because she knew him. She’d worked for his company for years, first as an administrative assistant in Human Resources, then as a manager, before he’d hand -picked her to be his assistant, and then his girlfriend. His woman. It hadn’t happened over night. At least the love part.

The love part had been tricky, but she loved him now. He’d been in her life a long time, and he’d been good to her. Better than any man had been to her.

And just like that her chest squeezed and her eyes burned and her throat threatened to close.

Maybe it wasn’t the wild fierce passionate love you read about in books, but it was steady and kind, and based on respect. Mutual respect.

They were good for each other.

“Charles?” she whispered, fighting the awful aching lump in her throat.

He just stared at her, gray eyes shadowed. “Things got out of hand, Jenny. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t understand.”

He said nothing.

She bit down so hard into her bottom lip she tasted lipstick and blood.

Keep it together, she told herself. Keep it together. You can fix this. You can. You’ve fixed everything else in his life... you can fix this, too.

She masked her panic with one of her professional smiles. Thank God for a stressful career. The workload and deadlines had taught her to cope with pressure. She’d learned how to be strong. “I hear almost every bride and groom experience some cold feet. It’s natural.” She managed a lopsided smile. “We wouldn’t be normal if we didn’t have a few pre-wedding jitters.”

“Jenny, I’m not going to marry you.”

 

 

 

Take Me, Cowboy – Jane Porter

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About the Author

 

 

Bestselling author Jane Porter has been a finalist for the prestigious RITA award four times and has over 12 million copies in print. Jane’s novel, Flirting With Forty, picked by Redbook as its Red Hot Summer Read, went back for seven printings in six weeks before being made into a Lifetime movie starring Heather Locklear.