Texas Wedding

THE GROOM CAME...C.O.D.?

Well, maybe not exactly. But just when unlucky-in-love AJ (that’s Agnes Jane to you!) had decided that she was going to focus on her career as a caterer and keep her mind off men, that’s when fate sent her a delivery she couldn’t ignore. In the form of Sergeant Shane Harrison, bearer of French chocolates, and newly arrived for a short-term project. And though clearly the good sergeant was as attracted to the lovely caterer as she was to him, Shane made it clear that when his job was done, he was outta there....

So now AJ has a project of her own—convincing the handsome footloose soldier that though he’d planned to breeze through town on his way to his next adventure, falling in love is the biggest adventure of all!

AJ smiled.

Oh, how she loved food and the effect it had on people. That was because every dish she created was infused with her passion for cooking. She watched Shane as he was enjoying a bite of cold lobster salad, and the sheer bliss on his face made her want to fall in love.

The thought unleashed a swarm of butterflies in her stomach. She’d fed plenty of people since Danny had died, but the possibility of dating, much less giving her heart away again, hadn’t seemed in the realm of available options.

The sensible part of her wanted to pull back, play it safe. But the butterflies had already flown off with her heart and even the sensible part of her couldn’t do a thing to stop it.

She took a deep breath against the rush.

Oh, no, this was not good.

It was absolutely wonderful.

Dear Reader,

After college, my husband and I decided to raise our family in the small town where I grew up. Even though the surrounding area has grown tremendously over the decades, so much remains steadfast and unchanged in my community: the high school, the football stadium, the farmers’ market, the quaint downtown with its old cobblestones and gigantic laurel oaks stretching protective branches over those who come to shop and eat and meet.

While some people need to get away from the old and familiar, I’ve always taken comfort in being a thread woven into in the well-worn fabric of an established Southern community. That’s where I got my idea for Texas Wedding, the first of three books in the Celebrations, Inc. series. When Sergeant Shane Harrison finds himself on temporary assignment in Celebration, Texas, heroine AJ Sherwood-Antonelli shows him the importance of family, friends and community.

I hope you’ll enjoy Shane and AJ’s story. Please be sure to look for the final two books in this series in October and November. And be sure to let me know what you think of them. You can reach me at nrobardsthompson@yahoo.com.

Warmly,

Nancy Robards Thompson

Texas Wedding

Nancy Robards Thompson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

NANCY ROBARDS THOMPSON

Award-winning author Nancy Robards Thompson is a sister, wife and mother who has lived the majority of her life south of the Mason-Dixon line. As the oldest sibling, she reveled in her ability to make her brother laugh at inappropriate moments, and she soon learned she could get away with it by proclaiming “What? I wasn’t doing anything.” It’s no wonder that upon graduating from college with a degree in journalism, she discovered that reporting “just the facts” bored her silly. Since she hung up her press pass to write novels full-time, critics have deemed her books “funny, smart and observant.” She loves chocolate, champagne, cats and art (though not necessarily in that order). When she’s not writing, she enjoys spending time with her family, reading, hiking and doing yoga.

Special thanks to Caroline Phipps

for educating me on the Army.

This book is dedicated to the memory of

Lynn Miller Robards. You will live forever in our hearts.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Excerpt

Prologue

When the tall man entered Maya’s Chocolate Shop, the warm gust of wind that blew in with him—jangling the bells on the door and ruffling the ribbons on the gift baskets—seemed to sing a certain familiar name, but Maya didn’t quite catch it.

She cocked her ear and listened harder...but heard nothing. Hmm... She thought she’d heard a whisper, but she couldn’t be sure. Especially when the door clicked shut and stillness settled over the shop. All Maya could hear was the cadence of the man’s boots marking time on the wooden floor as he ventured deeper into her shop.

Even so, one thing was certain—the guy’s appearance in her store had stirred the winds of love. There was no mistaking it, even if she couldn’t readily identify his intended.

The woman would reveal herself in due time.

In addition to being a third-generation chocolatier, Maya was un marieur, a matchmaker. It was an avocation of sorts. Some claimed it was her obsession. But when the winds of love blew in as they had a moment ago, she couldn’t help herself. It was a challenge she couldn’t resist, and she wouldn’t rest until she’d done everything in her power to bring “the intendeds” together.

“Bonjour!” Maya offered the handsome man her warmest greeting, which he generously returned. His was a wide toothy smile. He looked American. Or possibly Scandinavian, though Maya’s bet was on the former.

“May I help you?” she asked.

“Just looking, thanks.”

Oui. Américain.

Handsome as he was, he hadn’t come for her. But he had turned up for a reason, Maya’s instincts insisted.

The signs were subtle. Visceral. A feeling that raised the hair on the nape of her neck and tingled its way up her nerve endings, before it settled down in the pit of her stomach. A figurative “you’ve got mail.” A metaphorical message she couldn’t completely qualify, other than to know that, in the past, when the signs presented themselves in this particular fashion, they were never wrong.

She regarded him for a moment as he perused the shop. He looked like a soldier, though he wasn’t in uniform. There was something about his close-cropped sandy hair, his bronzed skin and those broad, broad shoulders and muscular arms. Something in the way he carried himself suggested combat.

Hmm...Maya thought. Perhaps the combat wasn’t necessarily physical. More internal...

A man at war with himself.

All the more reason she must get busy and do her job.

“I just set out some fresh truffles,” Maya said. “Would you care for a sample?”

Chapter One

Sergeant Shane Harrison regarded the photograph of the pretty blonde as he sat in his car, which was parallel parked across from the storefront. His gaze zipped from the photo to the black metal numbers marking the address, and then to the lettering on the window that spelled out Celebrations, Inc., Catering Company.

Yep, this was the place.

His gaze zagged back to the photograph for one last look at the woman’s enticing smile. At least the first person he’d met in Celebration, Texas, had a pretty face. He’d always been a sucker for a pretty face. The photograph had been the tipping point that had convinced him to make this personal delivery of chocolate and snapshots to a civilian.

He wasn’t in the habit of playing delivery boy for strangers. However, when he’d visited Maya’s Chocolate Shop as he’d passed through St. Michel on his way back to the United States from the Middle East, he’d struck up a conversation with Maya, the shop’s proprietor. When she’d learned the next stop on his tour was Celebration, Texas, she’d nearly leaped over the counter in excitement.

Maya had a good friend who’d just opened a catering business in Celebration. Her name was AJ Sherwood-Antonelli—a mouthful of a name if he’d ever heard one. Maya thought it would be fun to surprise AJ with a special delivery of “celebratory chocolates,” as she put it. She’d said something about a “chocolate-gram from a nice-looking soldier”—or something like that. Her words might’ve embarrassed him, if he’d been prone to such a weakness. But he wasn’t. In the end—after several samples of Maya’s sweets—it was her bribe of a box of hand-dipped truffles as payment that convinced him to bring a box to her friend.

Actually, if the truth be told, it was the photograph of the beautiful woman that persuaded him. He studied the picture again. Something about AJ’s smile captured him; or maybe it was something in the way her eyes shone as she looked through the camera.

Whatever it was, that indefinable “something” made him want to know her better. Or at least meet her. He wasn’t looking for anything long-term. Actually, he wasn’t looking for anything. Period.

For the next six weeks, he was stationed at Fort Hood. He’d be spending most of his days in Celebration on an undesirable assignment scouting sites for an off-base MOUT school (Military Operations Urban Terrain). The assignment, known in the army as “Realtor duty,” was the hell most soldiers dreaded. Once he’d secured the venue, he’d help set up the school training facility.

Six weeks of drudgery. He couldn’t think of many other things he’d rather not do.

Centering the stack of photographs on the box of chocolates, Shane gave himself a mental shake, preempting a downward mood spiral. The assignment was only six weeks. Then he’d head off on a plum European assignment he’d coveted for eighteen years. In the meantime, he needed to just suck it up.

So what was another six-week tour?

It was a trade off. That’s what it was. And even though getting stuck in suburban hell made him feel like doing anything but “celebrating,” maybe the diversion of female company would help pass the time.

* * *

The door chime beckoned AJ from the backroom kitchen where she’d been perfecting a selection of sliders to serve at A Taste of Celebration, a food festival sponsored by the Celebration, Texas, Chamber of Commerce. The event was next weekend, and it would be the first big community-wide showcase for her new catering company. She’d done a steady stream of business over the past year and a half out of her home kitchen, but A Taste of Celebration was the first time Celebrations, Inc. would make its debut to the public as an official business with its own commercial kitchen and office space.

It was September, and even though the holidays were a couple of months away, it wasn’t too early to start getting the word out about the catering company’s new digs. People would start thinking about the holidays soon, and in the meantime, there would be tailgating parties and fall festivals—all sorts of catering opportunities. A Taste of Celebration had the potential to earn her some bookings.

She wiped off her hands and made her way into the reception area. Since she was the only one in the office, she kept the door locked. Not that she felt unsafe in this town where everyone knew everyone... Okay, so maybe she did have a few issues about safety. Even so, she kept the door locked because she didn’t want to be surprised by someone happening in unannounced.

But surprised she was—and a little wary—when she saw the tall, good-looking stranger peering in through the glass and clutching a sack of photographs and a small box.

She was five-three, and he had a good foot on her in height. He also had close-cropped blond hair, broad shoulders and muscular arms. Quite a nice sight to behold, but the frivolity of his Adonis-like assets faded when he rapped on the glass door again and held up one of the photos.

She squinted at it, and her curiosity blossomed when she realized it was a picture of her and her friend Maya LeBlanc.

It had been taken last fall when she and her friends had gone over to St. Michel with their boarding-school buddy Margeaux Broussard to support her as she mended relations with her terminally ill father.

Hoping she didn’t have flour on her face, she wiped her hands on her apron and gave a quick swipe across her cheeks before she turned the lock and opened the door. After all, a stranger in possession of a photo of her with her friend Maya surely wasn’t there to cause trouble.

She opened the door a crack. “May I help you?”

“AJ Sherwood-Antonelli?”

“Yes? I’m AJ...”

“Special delivery, all the way from St. Michel.” He slid the photo through the small opening in the door. She accepted it.

“Where did you get this?”

“From Maya. This is for you, too.” He held out the pink and black box, which AJ immediately recognized as Maya’s signature package. Her mouth watered at the thought of the confections inside.

“She said to tell you congratulations on your new business. I think there’s a note in the box.”

She opened the door wider and took the chocolates. “Won’t you please come in?”

He stepped inside, glancing around the unfinished lobby area—all plain, plastered drywall, no furniture. Not even a desk. A self-conscious wave washed over AJ.

She’d moved in three months ago. Essentially, Celebrations, Inc. was a one-woman show financed by her own seed money, which was supplemented by monetary and in-kind investments from her friends Caroline, Pepper and Sydney. They helped her in various capacities such as prepping desserts, marketing, booking and serving. However, AJ had been so busy with the food end of the business, she hadn’t had time to fix up the front of the house.

In the little bit of free time AJ had, she’d concentrated on testing new recipes and refining the company’s menu. The kitchen had been the sole focus of her efforts. There hadn’t been much time left for decorating the public area of the small space she was leasing.

Pepper had been after her about it. AJ was so embarrassed by the sudden realization of how stark and unfinished this first impression must be, that she made a mental note to give Pepper the green light to have her way with it.

She could already hear her friend’s I-told-you-so’s. And they’d be well deserved.

Standing here with this attractive man, AJ was acutely aware that if business kept growing at the current rate, having Pepper do something about the reception area would alleviate this woefully self-conscious feeling she currently had standing here with—with—

“And who are you?” she asked.

“Shane Harrison.” He offered his hand and she accepted, giving it a quick shake.

“Nice to meet you, Shane. How do you know Maya?”

He smiled and the appeal of his crooked grin dazzled her for a moment. “I don’t, really,” he said. “I happened into her shop last week while I was in St. Michel, and when she learned I was coming to Celebration, Texas, well, basically she bribed me with chocolate to bring you this care package. Oh—here are the rest of the photos.”

AJ accepted them. As she flipped through them one at a time, smiling at the memory of the trip to St. Michel she, Pepper and Caroline had taken a few months ago, her mind raced as she remembered Maya talking about how she fancied herself a matchmaker.

But that’s not what this special delivery is about, she told herself.

AJ stole a quick, assessing glance at Shane, then returned her gaze to the photos. He was a good-looking guy, tall and tanned and solidly built with sturdy, mile-wide shoulders. Not at all my type. Even so, the thought sparked a heat that started in her cleavage and crawled uncontrollably up her neck, until it burned on her cheeks.

It was ridiculous. No, not only ridiculous, just plain absurd. When was the last time a great set of shoulders caused her to blush like a high school girl with a crush?

It had been a very long time.

She hated being out of control.

As she flipped through the photos one more time, she bit the insides of her cheeks hard until finally she felt her face cooling.

“Well, Mr. Harrison—” she began.

“Actually, it’s Sergeant Harrison. I’m stationed over at Fort Hood for the next six weeks or so. But actually, I’m living in town for closer proximity to a project I’m heading up.”

A military man.

Even though he wasn’t in uniform, she could see that he fit the bill. Physically fit with shoulders so wide he could probably carry the weight of a nation...

Inwardly, she rolled her eyes at the cheesy sentiment, bringing herself back down to earth by reminding herself that shouldering the weight of a nation went hand in hand with a willingness to fight to the death for it.

She’d once loved a man who’d sworn to serve and protect. And he was dead now. The pain of that memory helped deflate the silly direction Maya’s living, breathing candygram was tempting her thoughts.

“Thank you for delivering this, Sergeant Harrison, but I have to get back to work. I was just getting ready to grill some sliders.”

For a split second she considered asking him in for a taste test. Instead, she extended her hand. He gave it a perfunctory shake. Then AJ reached for the door and held it open. “Have a nice stay in Celebration. It’s a lovely town.”

He offered a brisk nod and turned to leave. As she watched him walk away, she had a sinking feeling this wouldn’t be the last time she saw Sergeant Shane Harrison.

Her heart betrayed her and leaped at the thought.

Chapter Two

When an assignment landed Shane in a new town, one of his first orders of personal business on his first day off was to familiarize himself with the lay of the land.

Even though he didn’t particularly want to be in Celebration, Texas, he’d decided to make the best of it and explore. Earlier in the week, when he’d delivered the chocolates to AJ, he’d noticed a poster in her shop’s window advertising “A Taste of Celebration,” a fundraiser to benefit a new pediatric wing at Celebration Memorial Hospital. The sampling of fare from local restaurants and caterers was happening today in the town square. Despite his lack of appetite for small-town living and all the ghosts it conjured, he was always up for a good burger and a beer. Getting to know Celebration through its local cuisine was the best way to face down this assignment. Well, that and possibly the best chance to raise a glass with AJ Sherwood-Antonelli.

A pretty face and a good meal.

What more did a man need?

Shane parked on a side street of a residential neighborhood about a quarter of a mile away from downtown. He unfolded all six foot four of himself out of his shiny black Ford F-150. The truck was his baby. Since his living expenses were negligible and his life was signed over to the U.S. Army, it was the one indulgence he afforded himself. The truck had been in military storage during his tour of the Middle East. It felt good to be back in the driver’s seat.

As he hit the remote, locking the truck, a loud whistle split the air. “Hey, man, nice ride.”

Shane turned toward the direction of the words that weren’t so much a compliment as they were a mocking challenge.

Four teenage boys loitered on the corner opposite from where he’d parked. Shane hadn’t noticed them until now.

“Thanks,” he returned.

Something in the group’s collective posture and body language made him pause, then glance in his car’s window to make sure he’d put away the GPS and anything else of value.

He had.

He looked back at the group wanting them to know he was taking a mental snapshot of them. All four were Caucasian, probably sixteen or seventeen, all medium height, but one was taller and bigger. Three had dark hair; one was blond. They all wore sloppy T-shirts. Two sported holey jeans. One boy—the tallest kid with long, dark messy hair that hung past his shoulders—wore his pants so low they rode down his butt and his boxers were visible. Another kid was wearing long denim shorts and had a tattoo of what looked like a dragon or some sort of serpent winding around his left calf.

They certainly didn’t blend in, but they were probably harmless—this was Celebration, after all. Since he’d been in town, he hadn’t seen such a rough-looking gang hanging out. Maybe they’d come for the food festival. He wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt, but a voice of reason made him wary. But what was he supposed to say to the sheriff? I didn’t like the way the boys were whistling at my truck?

Punks.

Putting an end to the staring standoff, Shane turned and began walking toward the square, knowing he shouldn’t judge. He was new in town and hated feeling conspicuous. So, he put them out of his mind.

It had been a long week on the new assignment, highlighted by meetings with construction crew chiefs and engineers who were working on the new training facility. Shane was exhausted—not from the work itself, as it wasn’t very demanding physically or mentally. It was more like babysitting.

He hadn’t gotten a decent night’s sleep since he’d arrived. In the army, he moved around so much he usually didn’t have a problem adjusting to a new place. But he wasn’t adjusting well to Celebration. The desk job gave him way too much time for clock watching and restlessness. Because work wasn’t occupying his mind, his thoughts had been running an endless loop of nonsense he couldn’t seem to shut off.

Even as he walked away, his mind replayed the way the teenagers had stopped their horseplay and called out to him; the way his guard had gone on instant alert; the way he’d turned back to face them down and how the short, stocky kid who seemed to be their ringleader—or at least the loudest one of the bunch—had hollered across the street, “Hey, man, nice ride.”

Shane bristled again and glanced back, but the kids were gone.

Training in counter terrorism—and life’s hard knocks—had taught him to be fearless in the face of danger. In fact, he liked to joke that there was nothing like a brush with death to make a man feel truly alive. But tying a man like Shane to a desk gave him too much time to think. That’s when he fell apart.

He smirked at the absurdity of his thought. They were just a bunch of smart alecks and he shouldn’t give them the satisfaction of responding. His reaction proved he was bone tired. This outing would clear his head, reset his mind.

With temperatures in the mid-seventies, fall was already making its presence known. Even though it was still technically summer—the equinox was two weeks away—the punishing heat of summer had given way to mild days and nights that were downright cool.

Shane drew in a breath through his nose, expecting to smell a loamy scent, autumn’s calling card—it was a reflex whenever he thought of his favorite time of year—but instead, he was tantalized by the aroma of A Taste of Celebration.

His stomach growled in response. The distraction—or reminder that perhaps he and this place might reach common ground through the food—helped him reframe and redirect his thinking.

So what if the job was boring? His objective was to serve out his MOUT duty and get the hell out of Dodge...or Celebration, as the case may be. What lay on the other side of construction hell was a plum European tour where he intended to exorcise the demons that had haunted him far too long.

In the meantime, he needed to get a hold of himself and calm the monkey mind that was wearing him down. “Monkey mind” was what his mother had called it way back when he’d been prone to similar restlessness as a boy, when his mind jumped from notion to notion as a monkey swings from tree branch to tree branch.