Jennifer Hayward - A Wedding at Ruby Lake

“And therein lays the issue with this evening’s festivities.”

Ariana whirled around at the sound of Hunter’s deep, rich baritone, finding herself face-to-face with the deep blue eyes and six-foot-two gorgeous inches of the ex she hadn’t seen in seven years. It was all too much. Her head swam. The glass slipped from her fingers.

She was vaguely aware of Hunter cursing, plucking her from amid the glass shards and ordering her mother to get water.

Her gaze lifted to his. “What’s going on, Hunter?”

He smiled that devil-may-care smile she remembered so well. “Why, I’ve come back to take what’s mine. You’ve always been the only woman for me, Ari. Surely you know that?”

It was on the tip of her tongue to say no, surely she didn’t. That he’d left her . But then Hunter was setting her down on a bench and disappearing inside to find a broom.

Her head spun even faster. It took about five seconds for Ariana to do what any semi-hysterical, vaguely sensible woman would do.

She picked up her skirt and ran.

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