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His eyebrows rose, though she couldn’t quite tell if it was from surprise, interest or both. “You’re teaching cooking classes?”
She nodded. “I was sort of pressured into it by a woman who has booked several social events at the inn. She thought it would be fun if she and a few of her friends took cooking lessons, and she asked if I would consider teaching them at the inn. I have room for six in the class, but one dropped out so I have an opening.”
“I didn’t know you offered classes.”
“I have on occasion, usually during the off-season—Kinley’s idea to keep people coming into the inn even when we have few outdoor events scheduled. I’ve conducted several one-day specialty classes like cupcake decorating, or making jams, jellies and preserves, or candy-making. This will be my first multisession class. I understand, of course, if you’re not interested, but you mentioned you’d like to learn to cook fresh produce…”
“Actually, I would be interested. I just happen to have the next three Tuesday evenings free, and it would be great to spend them learning how to do something useful. Cassie would definitely approve.”
She was rather surprised by how quickly he’d jumped on her offer. She’d thought at the most, he would agree to consider it. Was he really that excited to learn to cook—or maybe he was looking for an excuse to spend more time with her? A flattering possibility. She told him the cost, and he nodded. “Yeah, I’d like to participate. I’m sure I’ll learn a lot.”
“You teach high school, right?”
He nodded again. “I teach math. I have a few summer projects going, but I’m free on Tuesdays, fortunately. What do I have to do to sign up?”
“Just show up at the inn next Tuesday at six. I warn you, I don’t have your training in teaching, so the classes will be very informal. And you’ll be the only man in the group.”
“I can deal with that,” he said with a laugh.
She had a feeling he’d be the most popular member of the class.
She gave him her card with her cell phone number…in case he thought of any questions beforehand, she explained casually. Finishing her drink, she glanced at her watch. “I’d better get those vegetables home before they start roasting in the car. Thank you for the coffee, Paul. I enjoyed talking with you.”
“Same here.” He stood as she did. “I’ll look forward to next Tuesday. I’m sure you have a lot to teach me.”
She felt her eyebrows rise a bit in response to his tone—had there been a bit of a flirtatious undertone?—but then she decided she was probably overanalyzing. Of course he referred only to cooking skills.
She had the sense that he watched her walk away, though she didn’t look back to make sure. She found herself smiling during the drive home, her pulse fluttering a little. Was she looking forward to next Tuesday just a bit too much?
She was probably too young for him. Paul didn’t know how old Bonnie Carmichael was, but she didn’t look much older than his daughter. He wasn’t quite sure if Bonnie thought of him as anything more than the father of a bride. A dad who had a lamentable habit of crashing into her.
He’d been startled enough by the physical impact with her the first time they’d met. But then he’d looked down at her and had been metaphorically jolted again. She was so pretty, in the classic sense of the word. Big blue eyes framed by long lashes, a perfect nose and chin, a fair, heart-shaped face framed by wavy blond hair. Not very tall, but nicely curved. His first thought had been a simple “Wow.”
Maybe she’d had coffee with him today only to sign him up for her class, but she’d seemed to enjoy the conversation, and the invitation to join had seemed spontaneous. He had talked an awful lot about himself, he recalled with a grimace as he dumped the four squash he’d purchased into the crisper drawer of his nearly empty fridge, hardly desirable dating etiquette. Not that having an impromptu coffee with Bonnie counted as a date, of course. But maybe she wouldn’t mind getting together again, if he hadn’t bored her senseless with his life history.
Not that he was looking for anything serious, of course. Only a few weeks away from having a grown, married daughter, free to put his desires first for the first time since he was a teenager, he certainly wasn’t eager to tie himself down to a serious relationship before the wedding even took place. Especially not with anyone looking to get married and have kids—the stage of life he figured was already in his past. Women Bonnie’s age were often thinking along those lines, but he’d gotten the impression that she was more concerned at the moment with getting the inn on a solid financial footing. Which meant maybe she would be interested in spending a little time just having fun with someone else who wasn’t looking for more?
The outside kitchen door opened and his daughter hurried in. Cassie always rushed, even when she had no place to be. He always teased that she’d bypassed crawling as a baby and had progressed straight into running. With only a few weeks remaining until her wedding and with her fiancé already spending much of his time in London, his daughter had moved in with him two weeks ago when the lease on her apartment had expired. She could have moved back in with her mother’s family, of course, but his place was closer to the university she attended, and she claimed that her mother’s place was too hectic with fourteen-year-old twins always in and out with their friends. Paul had been delighted to welcome her to his home until the wedding, giving him a chance to savor this time with her before she moved so far away.
“I hope you haven’t eaten lunch,” she said, hefting a paper bag. “I stopped for a takeout salad on the way here and I bought you one, too. Whoa, are those fresh vegetables you’re putting away? You’ve been buying produce?”
“I went to the farmers’ market,” he told her, feeling somewhat sanctimonious as he closed the fridge. “I bought peaches, tomatoes, squash and a loaf of banana nut bread made by a local bakery.”
“The banana bread is an indulgence, of course, but the fruit and veggies are a nice step forward for you. I’m proud of you,” she teased, setting the takeout bag on the central island in his tidy kitchen.
“You’re about to be thoroughly impressed,” he assured her gravely. “I’ve signed up for cooking classes. Six hours of instruction on cooking with seasonal produce.”
Cassie made a show of slapping her hands to her cheeks, her bright green eyes rounded, her rosy mouth shaped into an O of surprise. Her layered strawberry blond hair bounced around her face with her energetic movements. “You’re taking cooking lessons? What has gotten into you?”
He shrugged. “You won’t be around after August to nag me about eating healthier. I guess it’ll be up to me to take care of myself.”
“I guess you’re right.” She stood on tiptoe to brush her lips across his cheek. “But I’ll still call all the time from London to make sure you’re being good. Every day, maybe.”
“I hope so.” Despite his light tone, he still couldn’t think of her being that far away without a hollow feeling in his midsection.
“Who’s offering these classes? The community college?”
Filling two glasses with ice, he shook his head. “Bonnie Carmichael will be teaching them at Bride Mountain Inn. I ran into her—er, sort of literally—at the farmers’ market this morning and one thing led to another and before I knew it I was signed up for cooking classes.”
“Please tell me you didn’t knock her down again,” Cassie said with a groan, looking up from setting out their salads on the round oak kitchen table.
He laughed ruefully. “Just bumped her arm and knocked a tomato out of her hand. Wasn’t my fault this time. Some woman nearly ran me over trying to get to a basket of cucumbers.”
“Honestly, Dad, this woman is hosting my wedding. If you keep assaulting her, she’s going to fire me as a client.”
Though he knew Cassie was teasing, he shook his head. “She’s much too professional to take it out on you. I could tell how much pride she takes in the inn.”
“Yes, so could I. Kinley’s really ambitious for the inn too, I think, but from what I’ve seen, Bonnie is the one who just truly loves the place, you know? I get the impression that for Kinley it’s a career. One she loves, but still a job. For Bonnie, the inn is her home. Definitely where her heart is.”
From the time she was a young teen, Cassie had prided herself on being an astute observer of people. She was so good at it that her friends often consulted her about potential dates—and she boasted that she’d saved a few from making big mistakes. Paul thought she was right on the money this time. From what he’d observed of the Carmichael sisters, his daughter had just perfectly summed up their feelings about their family inn. He hadn’t spent any time with Logan Carmichael, so he couldn’t say what Bonnie’s brother felt about the place, but he’d seen the love in Bonnie’s eyes when she’d talked about the inn where she lived and worked.
He’d never really felt that connection to a place. Home to him for the past twenty-one years had been where his daughter was. Now that she was moving away he was going to have to find a new definition for himself. There was a certain freedom in the knowledge that after August there was nothing holding him here, no reason not to strike out and explore the world a bit on his own, as his predominantly married, tied-down friends had pointed out to him lately. Footloose traveling was something he’d never felt he could do—never wanted to do—while Cassie was growing up.
“I still can’t believe you’re going to take cooking classes,” Cassie commented as she stabbed a fork into her takeout grilled chicken salad. “I mean, it’s great—but funny.”
“Bonnie warned me I’ll be the only man. It’s a small class. Only six students.”
His daughter grinned. “Maybe you’ll meet someone interesting there. Someone single, nice…and a healthy cook, as a bonus.”
Cassie had been trying to fix him up with someone for quite a while, but especially since she’d become engaged. He suspected she was afraid he’d be lonely after she moved away. And maybe he would, at least at first…but he’d deal with it, he thought in dry amusement. He didn’t need his kid to find companionship for him. Nor did he see any reason to mention to her that the most intriguing part of the class for him at the moment was the fact that pretty Bonnie Carmichael was the teacher.
“So did you pick up your wedding programs yet?” he asked her, abruptly changing the subject.
Her face lit up. The one sure way to distract Cassie from any uncomfortable subject was to ask about her wedding preparations. “Yes, this morning. They’re so pretty! Exactly what I wanted to hand out at the wedding, with the poem Mike and I love so much printed at the top and very cool, stylized flowers as a border. I left them at Mom’s house, but I brought one home to show you. I think I left it in the car. I’ll run out and get it when I finish my salad. I’m so glad I decided to go with pistachio and dove-gray for my wedding colors, even though Mom was concerned about the combination. It’s going to be gorgeous, Dad. Really.”
“I have no doubt.” His design-major daughter had impeccable tastes, if not as traditional as her mother would have liked.
“And just to make Mom happy, I’m adding a few pops of coral here and there,” she confided.
“You know your mother will like anything you decide for your wedding. She just wants you to be happy. As do I.”
“I know.” She smiled somewhat mistily at him. “I’m so lucky to have you as parents, Daddy. I want you to know I’m aware that you’ve both always put my best interests ahead of your own. Someday, when Mike and I have kids, I hope we’ll be nearly as good at parenting as you two have been.”
He cleared his throat with what Cassie would probably have termed his typical male awkwardness at such a blatantly sentimental moment. “At least you and Mike are getting married and establishing your careers before diving into parenthood. Your mom and I did the best we could considering we were just dumb kids ourselves.”
“And you learned to change diapers and braid hair and kiss boo-boos while other guys your age were chilling at college keg parties,” she teased fondly. “Mom told me you never missed even one of your visitation weekends even when you spent all week juggling work and college, nor did you hesitate to babysit any time she needed a break. And you never complained about child support payments. In fact, she said you often slipped her a little extra when you had it.”
Hearing her describing his life since his late teens served as a reminder of the freedom that lay ahead for him. There were parts of it that were going to be very nice, indeed, even though he knew there would be times when he missed those earlier days. Still, he was rather intrigued by the idea of discovering what it would be like to be Paul, the bachelor, rather than just “Cassie’s dad.” But for the next few weeks he would continue to fill that role willingly and to the best of his abilities.
“Do you need a little extra, Cass? I know the wedding stuff must be getting expensive.”
Her laugh pealed musically through his functional little kitchen. “Daddy, I’m not hinting for cash. Trust me, you’ve paid enough toward the wedding. I’m just trying to thank you for all you’ve done for me. I don’t know, I guess I woke up in a sappy mood this morning. I realized that in just a little over five weeks, I’ll be getting married and moving hundreds of miles away from you for the first time in my life. And I don’t want to do that without making sure you know exactly how much I love you and how grateful I am to you for giving me such a happy childhood.”
“Your mom and Larry had a lot to do with that, too.”
“Yes. And I’m thanking both of them for their part. The three of you have been a rare and amazing team. I know it wasn’t always easy, and I know it required compromise from all of you—but you did it for me. And for the twins, by the way. They know how lucky they are to have their ‘Uncle Paul’ in their life.”
From across the table, he pointed his fork at her. “Okay, I’m going to say one thing and then I want to change the subject before I embarrass myself by bursting into unmanly tears here. Regardless of how it came about, you are the best thing that ever happened to me. I knew it from the first time I laid eyes on you, when I was just a scared kid who’d barely started shaving. Yeah, it was hard sometimes, but I wouldn’t change one thing that brought us to where we are today. I love you and I am so proud of you. Now, change of topic, please.”
Cassie blinked rapidly and gave him a sweet, misty smile. “So, Bonnie Carmichael is really pretty, hmm? I can’t help wondering if that has anything to do with your sudden urge to learn about healthy cooking.”
Actually, he’d been wondering that, as well.
Chapter Two
At five minutes before six on the following Tuesday, Bonnie mingled politely with the five women who’d assembled for the first of the three cooking classes. She was confident her bright smile hid her foolish disappointment that Paul Drennan hadn’t shown up. It wasn’t as if she’d really expected him to take the class, despite his impulsive acceptance of her invitation last week. It had been silly to spend so much time thinking about him and hoping she’d get through the classes without making a fool of herself because of her atypical clumsiness around him.
For this first class, she had the students gather for refreshments around one of the tables in the large, sunny dining room of Bride Mountain Inn. China cups and saucers and plates of petits fours and delicate meringues sat in front of them.
Silver candlesticks graced the tables, along with white linens and colorful flowers in crystal vases. An antique silver plate and crystal chandelier gleamed overhead. Great-grandmother Finley had salvaged that piece from an old Virginia plantation when she and her husband originally opened the inn in the 1930s, and it had hung here since with only occasional refurbishing, most recently when Bonnie and her siblings had taken ownership. Bonnie had insisted on keeping as many of the original furnishings and decorations as possible during the remodel. They’d restored almost all of the beautiful old light fixtures. Given the value of these items, they limited their guests to ages twelve and older, directing callers with smaller children to nice family motels and inns nearby.
Kinley and Logan both had other part-time jobs—Kinley selling real estate, Logan consulting for business software design—but Bonnie’s whole life was here at the inn. She worked here seven days a week, and she hadn’t even taken a real vacation in the past three years. As far as she was concerned, teaching this class was just another task that went along with her responsibilities as hostess, head chef, housekeeper, decorator and concierge. Kinley called her “the heart of the inn.” Bonnie rather liked that title.
Standing beside the demonstration table she had prepared, she cleared her throat to claim the attention of the chattering group of friends. “I think we’re almost ready to start. Some of you may want to move to another table so everyone can see clearly. Before we begin, does anyone need a refill on coffee, tea, lemonade or water?”
The women gathered their snacks and arranged themselves around two tables, their noisy conversations barely abating in the process. Bonnie wondered if she could get this ebullient group quiet long enough to teach them anything. Nora Willis, the woman who’d persuaded Bonnie to offer this class for her group of thirtysomething friends, was the loudest of them all, her frequent, hearty laughter filling the room.
With one minute remaining until six o’clock, Bonnie drew a deep breath and spoke above the happy din. “If everyone is comfortable, we’ll go ahead and—”
Paul rushed into the room with a sheepish smile and an apology. “I’m sorry I’m late. Please forgive me for the interruption.”
Bonnie was glad everyone had turned to look at the newcomer rather than at her. It gave her a moment to ensure that her expression didn’t give away her pleasure at seeing him enter, all windblown, flustered and sexy male.
Teaching this class had just become considerably more difficult. Not because she didn’t know the subject matter, but because it would be all too easy for Paul Drennan to become the teacher’s pet.
Paul settled into a chair at the second table, greeting the two women there quickly with smiles and nods, all the while looking apologetically at Bonnie. She smiled to assure him she wasn’t annoyed, then addressed the group again. “Most of you know each other, but for our newcomer’s sake, why don’t you go around the tables and introduce yourselves. Nora, you start.”
Nora and her four friends took turns stating their names, looking directly at Paul as they did so. Nora, Lydia, Kathy, Jennifer and Heather were visibly pleased to have an attractive man in the group—especially Lydia and Jennifer, who were both divorced. Paul just happened to sit at the same table as the two singles, and they seemed delighted to have him there. Tall, artfully ombre-haired Jennifer, in particular, appeared to be more intrigued by her new classmate than the cooking lessons. Bonnie didn’t miss noting that Jennifer scooted her chair a bit closer to Paul’s as if to hear him better when he introduced himself.
Bonnie began the class by passing out copies of the syllabus they would follow during this and the next two sessions. Each syllabus was tucked into a bright red pocket folder which she informed them would be filled by the end of the course with useful handouts and website suggestions. Incorporating Nora’s requests, she’d divided the three two-hour classes into one-hour blocks: Introduction to Seasonal Cooking; Fresh Herbs; Knife Skills; Spring and Summer Recipes; Fall and Winter Recipes; Canning, Drying and Freezing.
“I’ll be at the farmers’ market next Tuesday morning at eight,” she added as she distributed the schedules. “For those who are free and would like to join me, we can shop together for ingredients for the dishes we’ll make that evening.”
“I can meet you there after I drop off the kids at day camp,” Jennifer said eagerly. “It sounds like fun, doesn’t it, Paul?”
“Yes, it does.” He smiled up at Bonnie when she gave him his handout, and she wondered if it was only an accident that his fingers brushed hers as he accepted it. Whether intentional or not, that fleeting contact still made her hand tingle. She flexed her fingers surreptitiously as she returned to the demo table to begin her informal lecture about the many advantages—ecologically, financially and nutritionally—of cooking with fresh, locally grown produce.
She tried very hard to divide her attention evenly among the class members. She made a point not to look at Paul too much—or too little, which could be just as noticeable. She didn’t like feeling so self-conscious, and she chided herself mentally for her schoolgirl behavior. But still she was too keenly aware of him sitting there listening so attentively, even when other members of the class called attention to themselves with blurted comments or questions or jests. Jennifer, in particular, seemed intent on making sure Paul knew she was available for extracurricular activities.
After forty minutes of lecture and discussion, Bonnie suggested a ten-minute break before the next session. “Feel free to walk in the gardens or help yourself to snacks and drinks, but please keep an eye on the time so we can begin again promptly.”
Taking advantage of the cooler temperatures as shadows lengthened in the gardens, the women decided to step outside for the break while Bonnie set up for the next session. “Come with us, Paul,” Jennifer urged. “The gardens here are just beautiful.”
“Yes, I’ve seen them and they are,” he replied with an easy smile. “But I need to speak with Bonnie for a moment before class starts again.”
Seeming unable to come up with a reason to linger with him, Jennifer went out with the others, though she looked back over her shoulder at Paul before stepping outside. Paul waited until the door had closed before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a check. “My registration fee,” he said. “Wouldn’t want you to think I’m a freeloader.”
Bonnie laughed and tucked the check into a deep pocket of her floral summer skirt. “I didn’t think that.”
“I’m not really in the mood to walk the gardens right now. Is there anything I can do to help you set up for the next part?”
He was too much the gentleman to admit that he was avoiding Jennifer, but Bonnie had her suspicions. “You can bring things in from the kitchen, if you like,” she said.
Maybe he was just being polite, genuinely attempting to be helpful rather than trying to escape the attentions of an admittedly attractive woman. The awkward truth was, she hadn’t much liked seeing Jennifer flirting so blatantly with Paul, but maybe he’d liked it very much. It would certainly be unprofessional of her to flirt with him, at least while he was a participant in her class, she told herself primly.
And still she found herself smiling up at him through her lashes when he stopped close beside her in the kitchen. “You can carry one basket,” she said, motioning toward the two large picnic-style baskets on the counter. “I’ll get the other one.”
“I’d be happy to.” He reached for the closest handle. “I’m sorry again that I was so late,” he said as they carried the baskets into the dining room. “The twins needed a lift to a youth party at their church and their mom got hung up at work and everyone else was otherwise occupied, so she called me. I’d have still had plenty of time, but Jenna had to try on every pair of shoes in her closet before she decided she was ready to go. I have to admit I was pretty impatient with her by the time we finally got away, because I was really looking forward to this class.”
“You were exactly on time,” she reminded him, then asked, “Jenna is one of the twins, right?”
“Right. Jenna and Jackson.”
Setting her basket on the demo table, Bonnie glanced up at him, thinking not for the first time that he had a decidedly different relationship with his daughter’s other family. She couldn’t help wondering, though, why he’d never started a new family of his own. He seemed to enjoy fatherhood—even honorary “unclehood”—but she’d heard no evidence of a special woman in his life. Was he a commitment-phobe? Or—she couldn’t help frowning a little—was he still hung up on his remarkable ex after all these years, even though Holly had long since moved on? Not that it was any of her business, of course.
He stood back and watched as she unloaded the supplies onto the demo table. She unpacked six cute little glass jars with home-printed labels, arranging them next to a food processor. Paul picked up one of the jars and read the label. “You’re making pesto?”
“Yes. Everyone’s going home with a jar tonight and easy instructions for making it yourself.”
He chuckled and replaced the jar. “Now that would impress Cassie, if I served her pesto I made myself.”
Laughing softly, Bonnie patted his arm without thinking about it. “By the time you’ve finished this class, you can wow her with a whole meal you prepared yourself, from the salad course to dessert, all made with fresh, local produce.”
He rested his hand over hers before she could draw away and gave a little squeeze to her fingers. “She’ll think you’re a miracle worker.”
Though his gesture had been casual, teasing, as had her own, she reacted as she had before to his touch. Or rather, she overreacted with a surge of awareness and a wave of heat that were totally out of proportion to the situation. Quickly drawing her hand away on the pretext of setting out more supplies, she told herself that she really had neglected her social life for too long. Maybe she’d start working on that online dating profile this very evening, though she wondered if she would find anyone there as interesting and appealing as Paul.
Jennifer came back into the dining room, followed closely by the others. Jennifer made a beeline for Paul. “You missed a lovely walk in the garden,” she said. “It’s cooler now that the sun’s gone down a bit, and the flowers are beautiful. And that fountain…well, it’s just perfect.”
“What he really missed was the look on Heather’s face when that big dog suddenly appeared beside the fountain,” Nora said with a giggle that was too deliberately girlish for her age. “That was priceless.”
Heather scowled. “Well, you have to admit he looked scary. I couldn’t help that little gasp. Thank goodness I saw almost immediately that he was being held by his owner.”
Bonnie swallowed a groan. “That’s my brother’s dog, Ninja. I know he looks intimidating, but he’s really very gentle. And Logan keeps him on a leash when they take their walks around the property.”
Logan had learned to keep the curious rottweiler-mix dog under close supervision because of Ninja’s uncanny knack for escaping all but the most secure enclosures. Ninja was completely harmless, rarely even barked, but his size alone was enough to frighten nervous guests, so he was not allowed to freely roam the grounds. When Logan was busy, Ninja was locked into the sizeable backyard of Logan’s cottage down the hill from the inn. The two could often be seen taking long walks around the property early in the mornings and late in the day, good exercise for both of them. Logan had bonded with the former stray in a way he rarely did with people, other than his two sisters.
“You said the dog’s owner is your brother?” Lydia asked a bit too casually. “He’s a nice-looking man, isn’t he?”
