Once Upon a Groom. Karen Smith Rose
He was leaning toward her slightly, one hand over the back of the stall, the other free to do whatever it wanted.
She suddenly wanted his arms around her. She suddenly wanted a lot more than that.
As if he was reading the message in her eyes, he murmured, “I almost did this last night.”
And then his arm was around her and he bent his head to hers.
The first touch of Zack’s lips wasn’t anything like Jenny expected. She’d expected hard, possessive and arrogant. His lips were firm as if he knew what he wanted. But they were coaxing, too … encouraging her to respond.
If she had thought further than that, she might have saved them both a lot of trouble. But she didn’t, because all of her concentration was on the feel of his mouth, the touch of his tongue against hers, the strength of his arms as he pulled her closer. The kiss was a flash from the past that could be a plunge into the future.
Dear Reader,
Can a woman ever forget her first love? Fortunately, my first love proposed! He was my first serious relationship and we clicked as if we’d known each other before we met. We fit.
Zack and Jenny fit when they found each other as teenagers. But dreams and past hurts separated them … Until fifteen years later, at their high school reunion, they realized they still had a bond that might never fade.
This book celebrates young love and the reuniting of hearts. To young love, mature love and the love in between!
Best,
Karen Rose Smith
About the Author
KAREN ROSE SMITH is the award-winning, bestselling novelist of more than seventy published romances. Her latest series, REUNION BRIDES, is set near Flagstaff, Arizona, in Miners Bluff, the fictional town she created. After visiting Flagstaff, the Grand Canyon and Sedona, she felt that the scenery was so awe-inspiring that she had to set books there. When not writing, she likes to garden, growing herbs, vegetables and flowers. She lives with her husband—her college sweetheart—and their two cats in Pennsylvania. Readers may e-mail her through her website at www.karenrosesmith.com, follow her on Facebook or Twitter @ karenrosesmith or write to her at PO Box 1545, Hanover, PA 17331, USA.
Once Upon
a Groom
Karen Rose Smith
With fond remembrance of Joan.
Prologue
July
As Zack Decker approached Jenny Farber in the cafeteria, decorated with blue and yellow streamers, memories washed over him. He struggled to maintain the cool facade that had enabled him to direct the most temperamental actresses … that had allowed him to hide the turmoil that had churned inside him since he’d left Miners Bluff fifteen years ago.
In a strapless yellow dress that accentuated her slim but curvy figure, Jenny was dancing with a classmate. The way she was smiling up at the man lit the wrong fuse on Zack’s usually controlled temper.
He clasped Brody Hazlett’s shoulder, dredged up a smile he didn’t feel and ignored the hushed surprise of other classmates he hadn’t seen in years. “Can I cut in?”
Brody let go of Jenny’s hand and faced Zack, his expression friendly. “Hi, Zack. It’s good to see you. The reunion must have meant a lot to you.”
“The reunion, and a few other things,” Zack said off-handedly, his gaze on Jenny as the silver disco ball spun, casting flickering lights across her heart-shaped face. She’d left a message on his cell phone last week. He remembered her words. Zack, please come home for the reunion. I need to talk to you about Silas’s health.
And here he was.
Taking Jenny’s hand in his, he circled her with his arm and steeled himself. As his hand brushed over the bare skin of her back, golden sparks lit her expressive brown eyes, bringing back too many buried memories.
“How long can you stay?” Jenny always went straight for the bottom line.
“Until tomorrow afternoon. I have to be on location in England on Monday.”
“That’s all the time you can spare?” Her voice was less accusatory than wistful … or regretful.
“I hadn’t intended to come to the reunion, but with your call, I revamped my schedule.”
The rhythm of the music overtook them for a few moments. It was a nineties ballad he recalled too well. The melody had wafted from the radio in the hayloft as the two of them …
He shut down the movie in his mind, leaned away from her slender body that had caused an instantaneous and powerful reaction in his. “Do you want to go somewhere quieter to talk?”
Quickly glancing around, she motioned toward the shadowy corridor lined with lockers where they had once exchanged heartfelt secrets … and kisses.
He led the way as he always had, trying to forget that fifteen years ago, she hadn’t followed.
Jenny attempted to calm her racing pulse and swallowed hard. Being in Zack’s arms again upturned her world until she became almost dizzy! He couldn’t still do that to her. She wouldn’t let him.
She watched him stride toward the corridor leading to the stairwell where he stopped and waited for her. He obviously wasn’t used to waiting for anyone. He’d left her behind once before. She imagined he wouldn’t hesitate to do it again.
Remember, he asked you to go with him.
Yes, he had. But she’d been eighteen and had finally found roots with Zack’s parents. As for Zack, he’d wanted to escape both his roots and his mom and dad. All he’d focused on were his dreams and a film school scholarship in L.A. She hadn’t been able to pin their future on something so intangible. Her own father’s dreams had disappointed her too many times to count. Her job as a groom at the Rocky D, Olivia Decker’s faith in her and Silas Decker’s promise to give her more responsibility in the future had been grounding forces much more powerful than her fear of what lay ahead with Zack.
But she had loved him in the ferocious way only an eighteen-year-old could love.
As she walked beside Zack, her high heels clicking on the waxed tile, her arm brushed his. The shiver that rippled through her almost loosened the mass of blond curls she’d pinned on top of her head. How could the brush of her skin against his suit jacket cause such a reaction?
He stopped halfway down the corridor, obviously hoping for privacy.
She gazed up at Zack, reminded again of how tall six-foot-two could be, how broad his shoulders had become, how slim his hips still were. He’d always oozed a James Dean kind of sensuality and that hadn’t changed. With a small cleft at the center of his jaw, his tousled, almost raven-black hair just barely tamed by an obviously expensive cut, his stormy-blue eyes, she realized the tabloids always got it right—he was a heart-breaker.
But then, she knew that from personal experience.
She felt tongue-tied with him, and he seemed to be at a similar loss for words until he said, “I spoke with Dad when I arrived. Sorry I missed you, but I was delayed.”
Had father and son finally had a heart-to-heart and found common ground? “And?” she prompted, instead of saying what she was thinking.
“And,” he drawled, “I don’t understand why you needed me to come. He’s