“We’ll do our best for you,” she said. “I’ll start on Monday to give us as much time as possible to make all the arrangements. So first off, I’m going to give you a little homework.” Perhaps someone who spent her time studying galaxies would like the concept of homework assignments. “Do you have anything to write with that’s handy?”
Nodding eagerly like the model student Tess assumed she’d been, Carrie reached for a notepad lying next to her on the sofa. Brian had leaned in the opposite direction. When he presented her with a pen, Carrie smiled as if she’d been given two dozen roses.
“Ready,” she said happily.
“Okay. First, you’re going to have to think about your wedding dress. Once we have an idea about its style, we’ll be able to figure out what flowers would look best in your bouquet and in the floral arrangements.”
Carrie glanced up from her notepad, her previous elation slightly dimmed. “I’m afraid I don’t have a lot of fashion sense. Generally I ask Erica, my stepsister, to shop with me. She’s got incredible taste.”
“Well, I’m sure she’d love to go bridal gown shopping with you to help you choose the perfect dress.”
Carrie’s gaze shifted to Ward and an odd expression crossed her face. Tess wasn’t sure but it seemed to contain equal parts worry and embarrassment.
“That’s a fine idea,” Ward said, which struck Tess as strange, because of course it was a perfectly fine idea for Carrie to ask a family member to help her find a wedding dress.
She cast a sideways glance at Ward. For once she could read him. The tight line of his jaw told her the casual reassurance he’d given Carrie masked something not so casual. Abruptly she recalled the comment Quinn had made earlier at the staff meeting about Carrie’s stepsister being somewhat less than wonderful.
Well, she knew firsthand no family was perfect. Here was the first wrinkle to iron out. “Or, if you prefer, I can email you pictures of dresses I think would suit you along with the addresses of the shops where you can try them on. You can bring your phone with you when you go to the boutique. The salesperson will be happy to take your picture so we can decide together which one looks best on you.”
“You’d do that—hunt down wedding dresses for me?”
“Of course. I love shopping.”
“Really? I don’t. I just get overwhelmed. Completely overwhelmed. Gosh, that would be so helpful. I only wish we could do the same thing with the food. We’ve been to some of our friends’ weddings. The menu, the cake, it’s all kind of beyond me. I’m not much of an eater. I mean, I eat—it’s simply not that big a deal to me what the meal is. I’m not terribly sophisticated when it comes to food,” she confessed.
“Basically, if the food at the wedding is better than what Carrie and I can cook, we’ll be happy.”
Carrie turned to Brian. “I’m not
that
bad.”
“No, of course not. You do an excellent microwave.” He grinned.
Okay. Her first wedding clients were the kind who zapped pizzas in their microwaves and pronounced them “delish.” Ward had been right about Carrie needing guidance. Well, she could do better in that department than Giorgio Bissi, her old boss. He would either have rushed the computer on Ward’s desk and started screaming that they were imbeciles or he would have
simply gotten up out of his chair and stormed out of the room.
“Luckily, I like to eat almost as much as I like to shop,” she told them with a smile. “Why don’t you send me a list of the foods you like best—steak, lamb, fish, chicken—as well as your favorite vegetables and desserts. The wedding cake will probably be yummy no matter what combination of cake and filling you choose, but if you hate any particular flavor, let me know. Generally it’s the design of the cake that people get worked up about. I’ll take your preferences and brainstorm with Jeff and Roo, the chef and pastry chef at Silver Creek, or the caterer if we need to hire one, and design menus for the different meals. Will you be able to come out to California for a tasting?”
“I hope so, but we haven’t had a chance to look at our schedules yet. We might manage a quick weekend.”
“It’d be great if you could,” Ward said. “Something tells me that we won’t have that much time to hang out during the wedding weekend.”
“We’ll get to work on it then,” Brian promised.
“Depending on how many people you invite we may have to arrange for an outside caterer. I’ll ask Jeff and Roo to give me a number they feel comfortable working with.” She jotted down a note to talk to them ASAP. “And we’ll need an estimate of your numbers for printing the wedding invitations—and I’ll be happy to help you choose the font and style,” she said with a smile, already guessing that this would be another challenge for Carrie.
“Did your parents have an idea about the number of guests they’d like to include? We may need to reserve additional blocks of rooms in other local hotels and B&Bs,” Ward said.
“I think we better reserve some extra rooms anyway. Some members of my family will need to be lodged as
far apart as possible—my parents, for example,” Brian said with a grimace.
“And your mom and stepdad, Carrie, have they got a big list?” Ward asked.
She sighed. “I’m afraid so. Once Mom got over the shock of our wanting to have the wedding at your place, she began counting the number of people who simply had to be included, so it’s safe to assume we’ll be more than the sixty Brian and I hoped for. I’ll get our lists coordinated and email you the number as soon as I can.”
It didn’t come as a surprise to Tess that Carrie’s mother was inflating the guest list. She must be so happy for her daughter. Tess checked her notes and saw another item she’d have to get busy on. “Have you made any decisions about your wedding party?”
Brian answered first. “I’d like to have Paul, my brother-in-law, and Reid as my groomsmen. Ward has agreed to be my best man. Always stepping in when I need you, bud.”
Tess shot a quick glance at Ward. An embarrassed flush stained his cheeks. Who’d have thought Ward Knowles could blush? With an effort, she bit back her mirth and prompted, “And how about you, Carrie?”
“Well, I’d like Hannah and Grace—those are Brian’s nieces—to be my flower girls. They’re six and eight.”
“That’s a perfect age.”
“They’re adorable.”
Tess smiled. “Even better. And for your bridesmaids?”
“Well, I’d like to have Brian’s sister, Allie—she’s Hannah and Grace’s mom—be one of my bridesmaids.”
Tess nodded and wrote down Allie’s name. “Anyone else?”
There was a pause. “Well,” Carrie hesitated, looking terribly uncomfortable. In a rush she continued, “Ward, I’m so sorry about this. But Erica called to wish Mom
and Benjamin a happy Valentine’s Day and so, of course, heard our news. Well, she immediately assumed that I would want her as my maid of honor, which is fine and doesn’t really bother me except that I know how difficult—”
“I can handle it.”
“Really?” She seemed to melt against the sofa cushions. Her relief was short-lived, however, for a frown appeared between her brows. “I’m embarrassed to admit it, Ward, but I’d been trying to figure out a way to avoid having her in the wedding party. I didn’t want to make things hard for you. But, of course, I couldn’t come up with one. If I ask Allie, then I have to ask Erica. It would hurt her feelings not to—”
“Don’t fret, Carrie.” Ward’s voice had dropped a register, and Tess suddenly wondered how much practice he’d had at soothing females. Was this Erica one of them?
Okay, so she’d learned something here. This couple came with some interesting family dynamics. Brian’s parents—divorced presumably—feuded and perhaps even erupted into full-scale war; Carrie seemed to have a sister who caused problems. Was she a drama queen? A bitch to end all bitches? It would be nice to know sooner rather than later so she’d be prepared to deal with any unpleasantness, but Carrie was unlikely to provide the necessary details.
The answers would have to wait for a little while. Until then, best to get back to the business at hand.
“Well, it’s great that you’ve chosen your attendants. Once you select your wedding dress you can decide what style of dress you want for your flower girls and your sister-in-law and stepsister.”
Carrie smiled weakly. “Erica will have a very definite opinion about what she wants to wear.”
“Okay.” Erica clearly intimidated her stepsister. But
Tess didn’t like the idea of Carrie not having her preferences respected on her own wedding day. She decided that if she sensed Carrie was being bulldozed by Erica, she wouldn’t hesitate to stand up for her client. What did she care if the stepsister didn’t like her?
Obviously Ward wasn’t alone in having his protective instincts roused by Carrie, she thought. Or maybe a part of her was rooting for this couple to have everything she hadn’t had with David: a beautiful, special wedding followed by years of laughter and love.
She offered Carrie and Brian a bright smile. “I think we’ve covered the essentials for now. I’ll be emailing you lots of stuff to look over in the next few days, and I’ll be expecting lots of lists with preferences and ideas in return. You’ll probably feel a little overwhelmed at first, but once you’ve decided on the major items, things will get easier.” For them, at least. She’d have to hustle big-time to organize a wedding in such a short period.
She continued smiling as Carrie and Brian thanked her repeatedly, saying how awesome she was and how comfortable they felt with her already. She waited as they exchanged a few more words with Ward, and Brian promised he’d check his and Carrie’s schedules for a free weekend. She closed her notebook and waited silently as Ward stood, went to the computer, and clicked the keys. The screen in front of them went momentarily blank, then a photograph appeared of the main lodge in summer, the front flower beds awash in color and the trees heavy with dark green leaves. Adele had the same screen saver.
She waited until Ward turned around. “So what’s the deal with this Erica person?”
It would have been too much to hope for that Tess wouldn’t pick up on the fact that any time Erica’s name
was mentioned everyone fell over themselves in apology, Ward thought with a resigned sigh.
Tess was not only perceptive, she was a careful listener. With Brian and Carrie she’d have been doubly attentive since she was trying to get a sense of them and their families. Even if Quinn’s morning fumbling hadn’t clued her in, Carrie had made it crystal clear that Erica was a touchy subject.
“Erica? Not a big deal at all. Carrie’s just feeling a little awkward because Erica and I were engaged.” If he spoke as if he wasn’t bothered by having to address the subject then maybe they could talk about something fucking else.
Anything else.
“Excuse me? You were what?”
He crossed his arms. “You heard me. We were engaged to be married and then she decided it wasn’t a good idea so she broke it off.” He’d kept his voice level, and when he was finished speaking he gave her a long look, daring her to follow up.
Stupid of him to think she’d back down. “Are you kidding me? What in God’s name are Brian and Carrie doing, asking to have their wedding here when you and Carrie’s stepsister—”
He cut her off with a bored drawl so she’d understand how uninteresting the topic of Erica was. “Because Brian is my best friend and some of his happiest memories are linked to Silver Creek. And because, as I’ve said before, the fact that I was engaged to Erica really has no bearing on this situation at all. Now, if we’re finished here, there are some pregnant lambs I should check on.”
For a moment he thought she’d continue questioning him. To his immense relief she gave a short nod.
“I’m sorry if you thought I was prying. I’m simply trying to understand the dynamics of this wedding, which
are turning out to be a
little
more complex than I’d expected.”
“Everything will be fine. You were great with Carrie and Brian. I’m sure you’ll figure out how to give them a terrific wedding celebration. Erica is not a factor.”
The look she gave him was patently skeptical. He waited, expecting her to rise from her chair and leave his office, and was puzzled when she remained sitting. She’d never lingered in his presence before. He frowned at the perversity of women. Frankly he was tired of dealing with the opposite sex, and that included the ones he’d been involved with as well as the ones that, in his saner moments, he was trying to keep his distance from. He wanted to go check on the sheep and then go home and down a couple of ice-cold beers.
Then he caught her slight movement and finally understood. Naturally she was trying to hide it, wriggling in her chair as surreptitiously as she could. Slowly he let his gaze travel down the length of her jean-clad legs, past the bend at her knees, to follow the sharp angle where her feet were tucked under her seat and moving busily. Cocking his head, he grinned.
One of those feet was bare.
On impulse he dropped to one knee. Ignoring her squawk of surprise, he reached under the seat and located a leather pump hiding just beyond the chair’s rear legs. For a moment he lingered, enjoying the fact that his head was maybe eight inches from her lap. Enjoying, too, that she was equally aware of his proximity to a very special place.
Easing his weight back slowly, he held up the shoe and regarded it. Damn, he thought. That was a hell of a heel. Arousal coursed a fiery path through his bloodstream.
He lifted his gaze. A very gratifying blush had stolen over her olive complexion. It was a stunning combination.
“I lost it. The shoe, I mean.” Her voice held a breathless awareness.
What had he been thinking? This was way better than a cold beer.
He smiled. “Indeed.”
“Can I have it back?” She held out her hand imperiously. The effect, however, was spoiled by the fine trembling that seized it.
“Certainly.” His free hand slipped beneath the chair and snagged a delicate ankle. He tugged a resisting limb up and toward him. It was no contest. He’d had a lifetime experience wrestling cattle and sheep. One feisty, squirming Italian beauty wasn’t going to deter him.
Holding her delicate foot in the cradle of his hand, he studied it gravely. Of course she wore nail polish the color of a full-bodied wine. Of course she had a fine, high instep that made him want to open his mouth and draw his teeth along the arch, made him wonder whether he could make her moan and her body tremble with the same desire that was spiking his blood. Damned if he wasn’t tempted to bring said foot and the body attached to it tumbling into his arms with one good tug.