The Best Man Takes A Bride

Hannah’s shy sweetness reminded Rory of a kitten she’d once rescued. The frightened Siamese had been all eyes in a skinny body covered with matted fur. It had taken time to build up enough trust for the kitten to allow her to pet it and even more time for the tiny bundle of fur to completely come out of its shell. To learn to run and play and chase. But Rory hadn’t given up, because even at the beginning, underneath all the wariness, she had sensed the playful kitten longing to come out.

And as much as the kitten had needed to be rescued, Rory had needed something to save. She couldn’t compare her experience as a child to what Hannah was facing in losing her mother so young, but Rory understood a little of what the girl was going through.

That beneath the sadness and loss, a silly, playful girl was struggling to break free.

“And what’s your family’s connection to the hotel?”

The summer breeze blew a lock of chestnut hair across Jamison’s forehead and let loose a flurry of butterflies in her stomach. He was so good-looking, she forgot the question, forgot everything as she met his gaze over his daughter’s head.

“Rory.”

Heat flooded her cheeks as she tore her attention from the heat shimmering between them and back on what should have been her focus all along. “Right...my family’s connection to the hotel. Um, the couple owned the hotel for decades, but with no children to leave it to, they put it up for sale. My grandparents met at Hillcrest—”

“Another romantic story?”

“Exactly,” she answered, pleased with his guess despite the cynical tone of the question. “My grandmother was working the front desk and my grandfather was a guest here. Years later, when they heard the hotel was available, they bought it as an investment. They visited all the time but never lived here.

“My father and my uncle both worked here when they were younger, but the hotel and the hospitality industry were never their calling. Not like it was for my aunt Evelyn. Everyone knew she would run Hillcrest one day. She’s smart and strong and independent.”

Rory’s worry over her aunt’s health stung her eyes, but she blinked, banishing the tears before they could form. Her aunt wouldn’t appreciate Rory getting teary in front of a guest. Not even if that guest was ridiculously handsome with the kind of broad shoulders and strong arms where a woman would be tempted to find comfort.

“And you and your cousin are here helping out?”

That was the explanation she and Evie had been giving people. Their aunt kept a strict line drawn between her personal and professional life, and she didn’t want anyone outside of family to know of her health problems.

“Hillcrest House has always been a popular location for weddings with the locals in Clearville and Redfield,” Rory said, naming another nearby town, “but last year my aunt decided to expand Hillcrest as a wedding destination. The couples now have the choice of an all-inclusive ceremony, with the hotel handling everything from the cake to the music to the photographer.”

“And that’s where you come in.”

“I work with the couple to get a feel of the type of wedding they’re looking for and design all the elements to match that theme.”

Jamison shook his head at the notion of a wedding theme, which had Rory wondering what his wedding to Hannah’s mother had been like. Not that she was about to ask.

“You’re good at this.”

Feeling her cheeks heat at the surprising compliment, Rory shook her head. “I’ve had Hillcrest House facts drilled into my head since I was a little girl. I could recite this information in my sleep. A couple of times, in the midst of wedding madness, I think maybe I have!”

“Not just the tour. I mean the way you dealt with the guests and the staff earlier. You’re friendly and encouraging but firm enough to get your point across.”

“I—thank you,” Rory said, far more pleased by the compliment than she should have been. She didn’t like thinking of herself as hungry for approval, but after her failure at the interior design firm in LA, finding success—especially at Hillcrest House—was so important to her. “I didn’t expect...”

“Expect what?”

She gave a small laugh. “You and my cousin Evie have quite a bit in common when it comes to the whole wedding thing.”

Jamison and her by-the-book cousin likely had more in common than their negative views on weddings and marriage. A CPA, Evie was smart, well educated, as razor sharp as the blunt cut of her dark, chin-length hair. She was practical, pragmatic and more than a little cynical—the kind of woman Rory figured would impress a successful businessman like Jamison.

Ignoring the stab of jealousy at the thought of Jamison and her cousin forming their own mutual-admiration society, Rory said, “Evie’s a genius when it comes to handling the books and the last person to believe in fairy tales, but sometimes she acts like I pull off these weddings with nothing more than a wave of a magic wand. She doesn’t seem to notice the hard work that goes into them.”

“Look, Daddy!” Hannah’s impatient tug on their hands brought the conversation to a halt as they reached a curve in the pathway. An intricate lattice-arched entry led to the rose garden—a favorite spot for many brides and grooms to say their vows. Pink, red and white blooms unfurled amid the dark green bushes and the thick, rich lawn.

Turning to Rory, Hannah asked, “Is that where you grow the flowers for the flower girls?”

Not about to ruin the moment for the child, especially when she saw some of that curiosity shining through in her big brown eyes, Rory said, “It sure is. Why don’t you go look for the perfect flower? But don’t touch, okay? Some of the roses have sharp thorns.”

Hannah’s pale brows furrowed as she glanced between the rose garden and back again. “Will you stay right here, Daddy?”

“I’m not going anywhere, Hannah Banana.”

A small smile tugged at the little girl’s lips, and Rory swore the sweet expression was somehow tied to the strings around her heart. She couldn’t help smiling as Hannah tucked her hands behind her back before racing—somewhat awkwardly—over to the garden.

But it was Jamison and the unabashed tenderness in his eyes as he gazed at his daughter that had Rory’s emotions all tangled up in knots.

He was a guest. And like any other guest who passed through Hillcrest House, Rory would quickly forget all about him. She’d forget all about this day, about walking with Jamison and Hannah beneath a cloudless sky. About the warmth of his skin as his arm brushed against hers. About the rich, masculine scent that tempted her to move closer and breathe deeper. About the longing to reach out and take his hand, knowing how something as simple as entwining her fingers with his would form a bond she would feel right down to her bones...

Yes, indeed, she would forget all about that. Might just spend the rest of her life forgetting all about that.

The strict talking-to had Rory straightening her shoulders and adopting a polite smile, neither of which were any protection against the power behind Jamison’s gaze.

“I’ll say it again, Rory. You’re good at what you do,” he repeated, the intensity behind his words preempting any denial she might have made. “Anyone who doesn’t appreciate you is a fool.”

* * *

“Like this, Miss Rory?” Hannah asked over her shoulder as she placed a single rose petal on the verdant green grass.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.