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He shook his head. “I’m good with the tea, thanks.”
She took the chair closest to him and lifted her cup to her lips, smiling at him over the rim. Her robe parted a bit with the movement, giving him a fleeting glimpse of creamy breast. He gulped tea fast enough to scald his mouth, then chided himself for acting like a randy teenager around her, even though they had just climbed out of her bed. How did she keep doing that to him, despite his best efforts to remain in complete control around her?
To distract himself, he stuck with the one topic always guaranteed to keep their conversations flowing comfortably. Their work.
“You haven’t mentioned how your big wedding went this past weekend,” he said, trying to hide the fact that his tongue felt as though he’d burned off a layer.
She groaned heartily at the mention of one of the biggest events she’d coordinated since taking over her business. “It was exhausting. If all my brides were as difficult as that one, I’d get out of the business tomorrow.”
He knew the wedding had been held at one of the biggest churches in Southwest Virginia and had been one of the social events of the late-winter season for that particular crowd. There had been a carriage and white horses, doves and chamber musicians, with an obscenely expensive dinner and reception afterward at a nearby country club. Bride Mountain Inn had never even been in the running as a venue for that fancy event, but it sounded to him as though he should be grateful for that. “Did you manage to meet all her demands?”
“She even promised to recommend me to her friends,” Alexis replied with a weary but satisfied smile. “And by the way? I give the marriage a year. Maybe two, though that’s stretching it.”
Logan winced. “Problems getting along?”
“The groom hit on me half an hour before the wedding.”
Logan’s teacup hit the table with a thump. “He what?”
Ninja sat beside Alexis’s chair and rested his head on her knee. She rubbed his ears affectionately. Fiona jumped into Logan’s lap, as if to prove that she, too, could claim human attention if she desired. Still scowling, Logan absently stroked the cat’s back, eliciting a butt-up response that begged for more. “How did he hit on you? Are you sure that’s what it was?”
“He caught me in a corner, stood entirely too close and said maybe he and I could get together sometime—to plan an event, he added with a wink. What does that sound like to you?”
“Like he was hitting on you,” Logan muttered.
“Thank you.”
“You, uh, didn’t mention it to the bride, I assume?”
“Of course not. Not only would he have accused me of totally misinterpreting it, making me look like an idiot, but it really wasn’t any of my business. Besides, the bride was busy flirting with the cellist in the chamber quartet. Like I said, I give them a year.”
Logan shook his head in distaste. “We’ve had a few of those at the inn—you know, weddings that seem doomed to failure almost from the start. Kind of leaves you with a bad taste in your mouth, doesn’t it?”
She nodded. “I much prefer completing a job with at least a modicum of hope that the couple will somehow make it work despite the odds against them.”
“High odds,” he agreed.
“Very high odds.”
Figuring they’d made their point, he let it go at that.
“Did I ever mention my parents were divorced?” she asked nonchalantly, looking down at Ninja. “Twice for my dad. He was married briefly after he and Mom split. He was engaged again when he died of a blood infection two years ago. Mom’s third marriage has lasted almost a decade so far, though she and my stepfather sort of go their own ways.”
He wasn’t quite sure what to say. He’d known her father was dead and her mother remarried, but not the rest. He and Alexis didn’t talk about their family lives, though, because she worked often with his sisters, she was somewhat more aware of his. She knew, for example, that his parents had split up when he was just a kid, that he and his sisters had been raised by their single mom in Tennessee, that his mother had died almost five years ago and that his dad was a footloose world traveler who had rarely seen his son and daughters since the divorce. Alexis had even met his father in passing when she’d visited the inn one winter morning for a meeting with Kinley about an upcoming event.
Making the long trip from his latest temporary home in New Zealand, Robert Carmichael had come to Virginia in December to see his daughters married. Arranging their plans around their father’s rare visit, Kinley and Bonnie had shared an intimate double wedding in front of the fireplace in the inn parlor with only close family members in attendance.
Logan had told Alexis a little about the wedding when he’d slipped off to visit her the next night, but he’d been careful to avoid any discussion about his emotions at seeing his father for the first time in two years, or any analysis of his feelings about growing up with an absentee dad. Nor had she asked any such personal questions. That wasn’t the sort of relationship he had with her, by mutual unspoken agreement.
“My brother’s been married twice, too,” she said, breaking into his wandering thoughts. “Neither one lasted. He’s only twenty-seven.”
He was getting a clearer understanding of Alexis’s distrust of marriage vows. With her family history, she had good reason to be cynical about those “till death do us part” promises. Had she been met with disappointments of her own that had only reinforced her early, disillusioning experiences? “Started young, didn’t he?”
She shrugged. “He’s the impulsive type.”
“Kinley’s first marriage didn’t take, but I think she and Dan have the potential to make it work,” he commented, scratching her cat’s ears when she head-butted his hand in a less-than-subtle hint. “And Bonnie and Paul have as good a chance as anyone, I think. My sisters are nothing if not determined.”
Though his parents had divorced, he’d seen examples of successful lifelong unions—his maternal grandparents, and his great-uncle Leo and great-aunt Helen, who’d been committed to each other until her untimely death. Leo had been faithful to those vows even for the eighteen years he outlived his beloved wife. So Logan knew it was possible for others—he just didn’t know if it was for him. His own record of betrayals and disappointments had left him with a romantic cynicism he wasn’t sure he could ever overcome, or even wanted to, at this point.
“Your brothers-in-law seem very nice. You like them, don’t you?”
“Yeah, they’re great guys. We’re becoming friends as well as family.”
Propping her chin on her hand, she studied him with a faint smile, her tone lightening the mood. “Any concerns about their butting into your business at the inn?”
Even to him, his answering smile felt a little arrogant, which he hadn’t exactly intended. But still, he said, “That’s not going to happen. For one thing, we made sure both guys signed prenups, making it clear they have no claims on the inn in case the marriages break up.”
He’d said “we,” but the truth was that he alone had made sure of that precaution. His experience with a less-than-ethical business partner had left him wary of putting his trust in anyone other than his sisters when it came to business, even the likable, upstanding citizens they had married.
“Wise move. But maybe your sisters will make their marriages last. Some people do. And the fact that eternal optimists keep trying means more business for us, huh?” Alexis added with a wink.
He smiled, pleased to be back on comfortable footing, conversationwise. “You’ve got that right.”
It was the most they’d talked about their families in the almost five months since they’d crossed paths at a local coffee shop late one restless autumn evening. They hadn’t known each other very well at that point, having met only a few times through their work, but there’d been a strong attraction. They’d struck up a casual, surprisingly enjoyable conversation that had gone on for more than an hour, and he’d ended up following her home after her refreshingly straightforward invitation. Twenty minutes after they’d walked through her front door they’d been in her bed. And it had been the best experience of his life. Until the next time they’d gotten together, anyway. And then the time after that...
He set the cat on the floor, stood and carried his empty teacup to the sink. “I’d better head home. I’ve got a report to write tonight for a software client.”
With one last pat for Ninja, Alexis rose, too. “I’m bringing two clients by the inn later this week to look over the place as a potential venue for events—a wedding next year and a vows renewal ceremony being held in July. The vows couple are celebrating their fortieth wedding anniversary—another pair who’ve beaten the odds—and they are lucky the inn is available for a booking that soon if they approve of the setting, which I’m sure they will.”
“They’re not going to want sand or palm trees, are they?” he asked with a frown.
Sighing, she shook her head. “I haven’t talked specific details with either client yet, but I got the impression the older couple, in particular, wants something simple and sweet for the recommitment ceremony.”
“Good. Wish you’d talk more of your clients into that theme. Simple and sweet, I mean.”
She grinned and reached up to pat his cheek. “And miss seeing your expressions when I make outrageous demands of you? You’d be taking away half the fun of my job.”
He grumbled, but couldn’t resist brushing a quick kiss over her smile. “See you around.”
“Sure. See ya, Logan.”
Very casual. Very civil. Very open-ended. Exactly the way he liked it, he thought as he and Ninja headed out to his truck. He held open the driver’s-side door and the dog leaped in gracefully, settling into position in the passenger’s seat, ready to enjoy the ride home.
It didn’t take much to make his dog happy. A ride in the truck. A crunchy treat. A friendly rub from a pretty lady. All things Logan enjoyed himself. Ninja didn’t dwell on the past or worry about the future. He just...lived.
After reaching out to pat his buddy’s broad head, Logan fastened his seat belt and started the truck. He could do a lot worse than to emulate his dog.
Chapter Two
Alexis arrived at Bride Mountain Inn on Thursday afternoon ten minutes earlier than she’d agreed to meet her clients. She parked in the lot in front of the building, noting that few other cars were there. It was off-season in the bed-and-breakfast business in the Blue Ridge Highlands—a little past the peak snow sports time and just a few weeks early for the popular spring and summer outdoor activities. From conversations they’d had during their collaborations, she knew Kinley had been working on ideas for boosting business for next year’s off-season. Still, the inn stayed quite busy during peak season and seemed to be performing to the Carmichael siblings’ satisfaction thus far.
The gray-sided, white-trimmed inn really was lovely, wearing its years well thanks to the loving care it had received. Multiple gables and windows and roof peaks combined with white gingerbread trim provided traditional Queen Anne charm, while the bright red double entry doors served as a warm, cheery welcome. The wraparound porch that merged onto the back deck was finished with a white post-and-spindle banister and lined with rockers from which to admire the spectacular views of the mountains against the horizon. One middle-aged couple, dressed warmly for the cool afternoon, sat in rockers on the side porch sipping something out of big mugs and engaged in a lively conversation, clearly relishing a day of relaxation.
During the past months, Alexis had learned some of the history of this place from Kinley and Bonnie, who took great pride in their establishment. Built in the 1930s by their great-grandfather, the inn had then been passed down to Leo Finley, great-uncle to Logan and his sisters, who’d operated it with his beloved wife, Helen, until her death. After Helen died, Leo closed the inn to guests and lived alone in the downstairs apartment for the remaining eighteen years of his life. Upon his death, he left the inn to the great-nephew and great-nieces who had visited him often from Tennessee and whom he had loved very much. It had taken them almost a year to have the inn ready for guests again, and they’d invested everything they’d had to do so. Just this past November, they had celebrated their two-year reopening anniversary with a reception for local travel agents, events planners, caterers and other business collaborators. Alexis had attended, and it had been very nice.
She and Logan had barely spoken to each other during that event. He had participated with almost visible reluctance peeking through his deeply ingrained Southern manners. She suspected his sisters had coerced him into being there. Alexis hadn’t stayed long, but she’d enjoyed the reception and had left confident that, though she and Logan had been lovers for almost a month by then, no one else in attendance had suspected they were anything more than cordial business associates. Four months later, no one was any the wiser. She saw no need to discuss their affair with anyone, either now or after its inevitable ending.
Only one person knew about her trysts with Logan—her best friend, Paloma Villarreal. Despite living in different states since Alexis had returned from New York to Virginia to start her new career, she and Paloma had remained in close contact, still sharing secrets during long, candid phone conversations. Paloma had been intrigued to hear that Alexis was seeing someone. Being somewhat of a commitment-phobe herself, she totally understood why her friend was so leery of getting too emotionally involved. She didn’t ask too many questions, leaving it up to Alexis to decide how much to share. They respected each other’s privacy, a trait Alexis valued highly after growing up with a mother who wasn’t big on boundaries.
Alexis’s mother, who had no clue about Logan, had spent the past year and a half throwing one single doctor or lawyer after another in her only daughter’s direction, pointing out in frustration that Alexis was rapidly approaching thirty without a respectable marriage prospect in sight. No matter how many times Alexis asked her mother to butt out of her social life, her mom still managed to work in a few nags each time they were together.
She loved her maddening mother, and truly believed all the pushing and stage-mothering had been well-intended. Paula Healey loved her children—maybe a little too much—and wanted only the best for them, even if it meant stepping in to handle their affairs herself if she thought it necessary. She was the very definition of a “helicopter parent.” Alexis tried to remind herself of those things whenever her mom drove her crazy. She supposed her exasperation was normal, considering. Their family had always been complicated, to say the least.
She locked her car door by habit after taking out the leather tote that held her computer tablet and other business items. The afternoon was cool but sunny, requiring no more than a light jacket over her thin sweater and slacks. The first green shoots of spring had appeared here and there in the gardens, and she spotted a few very early daffodils in the beds.
A bright yellow sports coupe drove into the parking lot and stopped in front of her. Paul Drennan, Bonnie’s new husband, opened the driver’s door, climbed out and leaned back against the car with his arms crossed over his chest, smiling down at her from his six-foot-four height. He looked more like a rangy cowboy than the high school math teacher she knew him to be. She would bet he was the subject of more than a few teen fantasies, she thought with a faint smile, remembering a harmless crush she’d once had on a high school history teacher. “Hello.”
“Hi, Alexis.” He glanced around the otherwise empty parking lot. “Are you looking for Kinley and Bonnie?”
“I’m expecting clients to arrive shortly, and then we have a meeting with Kinley.”
He nodded. “She’s probably inside. Bonnie’s at the hospital with her brother, but she should be back soon if you need to see her, too.”
Alexis felt her diaphragm give a little jerk. “Hospital?”
“Yes. Zach, a college student who works part-time for Logan, had to have an emergency appendectomy today. He was working here this morning when he doubled over. Logan rushed him to the hospital in Zach’s car, then stayed with him while contacting the kid’s family. Bonnie went to pick up Logan and check on Zach, who’s going to be fine, by the way. She called to let me know what was going on.”
She busied herself for a moment by unnecessarily adjusting her glasses on her nose, speaking with what she thought was credibly casual concern. “That must have been scary for all of them. I’m glad Zach is going to be okay.”
She didn’t want to think too hard about her instinctive reaction at hearing that Logan was at the hospital. Something about the way Paul had worded the comment made her believe initially that Logan was the patient, and her mind had immediately filled with scenarios of accidents he could have suffered while working around the grounds. She reminded herself that she and Logan had only a casual relationship, so she had, perhaps, overreacted a bit—but then she reassured herself that it was only natural for her to be concerned for a friend’s well-being. Everything was still comfortably under control. She didn’t have to worry that she was letting herself care too much for Logan.
“Here are my clients now,” she said as a dark sedan with a familiar driver pulled into the space next to her own.
Paul opened his car door again. “Kinley should be waiting inside. Have a good meeting.”
“Thank you.” She waved as he drove around the side of the building toward the downstairs apartment he now shared with Bonnie. Then she turned to greet Sharon Banfield and her newly engaged daughter, Liberty, who were here for a tour of the wedding facilities.
Kinley was her usual enthusiastic, briskly professional self, welcoming the Banfields and Alexis to the inn, giving a quick overview of the services offered to potential clients and their out-of-town guests, then taking them on a complete and informative tour of the inn and the grounds. She greeted the few guests they passed with a warmth that seemed quite genuine while showing Liberty and her mother all their inn’s amenities without a high-pressure sales pitch.
After a walk through the gardens, where Kinley described the flowers that would be in bloom in early June of the following year, the date Liberty wanted to reserve for her wedding, she led them into the newly constructed ladies’ dressing room and restroom beneath the wide back deck. Kinley’s visible pride in the new facilities made Alexis smile, especially since she knew just how much work Logan had put into pleasing his sisters with those recent additions.
And speaking of Logan...
She looked around with everyone else when he came from the side of the inn, wearing his work clothes of jeans, boots, T-shirt and gray jacket, his dark hair looking disheveled. She had become an expert at hiding the punch of reaction she always felt when she saw him in front of other people, and she was confident no one knew that beneath the tailored jacket she wore with her spring-green sweater and charcoal slacks, her heart was beating a happy tap dance.
He nodded, not a hint of special interest on his face when he included Alexis in his greeting to the group. “Ladies.”
Kinley introduced Logan to Liberty and her mother, then added with a wave toward Alexis, “And of course you already know Alexis.”
“Yeah, sure. How’s it going, Alexis?”
“Very well, thank you. I heard you had some excitement around here today.”
“One of my crew took ill, had to be rushed to the hospital. He’ll be okay, though.”
“I’m happy to hear it.”
“My brother is the one who supervises outdoor setup for the weddings,” Kinley explained to their visitors. “He and his crew decorate the gazebo and gardens as requested, place the rows of folding chairs for guests, basically anything having to do with the outdoor part of events that isn’t hired out to outside contractors.”
Liberty smiled eagerly. “My friend Mandy had her wedding here last spring—she had the Tuscan theme? Very Italian, and it looked amazing.”
Both Kinley and Logan nodded in recognition of the reference. “It was a pretty wedding,” Kinley said to Alexis. “Mandy wanted lots of grape clusters and wine bottles and brick-red and olive-green buntings. She even managed to find a few oak wine casks for decoration. Logan set them in place where she wanted them and then we arranged groupings of candles and wine bottles on them with artificial grapes draped over the sides.”
“Sounds lovely.”
“It was,” Sharon agreed drily. “Too bad the bride moved home to her mother two months later.”
Liberty waved a hand dismissively. “Adjustment issues,” she said lightly. “She and Blake are back together now. Mostly.”
Alexis had to make an effort not to look at Logan. Because she didn’t, she wondered if he was deliberately not looking at her, either. But still she sensed he shared her admittedly cynical reaction to the update.
“Anyway,” Liberty continued, “I had an idea for my wedding theme...”
Logan made a low sound that Alexis interpreted as a swallowed groan. Kinley shot him a quick, stern look before saying encouragingly to the bride-to-be, “What’s your idea, Liberty?”
“Well, my fiancé...” She giggled at the word, proving how new it still was to her, and flashed her ring in the late-afternoon sun. “My fiancé went to school in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, and now he’s this huge New Orleans Saints fan. You know, football?”
Kinley nodded. Alexis swallowed, as this was the first she’d heard of a possible theme for the wedding she’d been hired only a couple days earlier to organize. Already she suspected what theme Liberty was considering, and she was proved right when the young woman blurted, “Mardi Gras! We can have beads and masks and lots of streamers and colored lights and balloons and stuff. Maybe some green and yellow and purple curtains hanging on the gazebo. And you know what would be really cool? Some of those big papier-mâché heads scattered around the gardens. Ooh, and maybe Steve and I could arrive on a Mardi Gras float that really moves, like pulled by a tractor or horses or something.”
This time Alexis couldn’t resist looking at Logan. He gazed back at her with a scowl that made it clear he expected her to rein in her client before she started asking for wrought-iron balconies and a steamboat.
Before Alexis could speak, Liberty’s mother gave a laugh and patted her daughter’s shoulder. “Take it down a notch there, sweetie. You’re getting carried away.”
Sharon shook her head indulgently as she looked at the others. “Liberty tends to go overboard when she lets her enthusiasm get away with her. She’s just so bright and creative, it’s hard to contain it sometimes.”
“New Orleans and Mardi Gras are both very workable themes,” Kinley told them gently. “I’m sure Alexis can help you come up with some beautiful and feasible ideas.”
“Of course,” Alexis assured them all. “I’ve organized Mardi Gras parties before. This would be my first Mardi Gras wedding, but we can definitely work with the theme.”
“We’ll have to think about this a bit more,” Sharon said. “Just yesterday she was talking about a Japanese theme. We’ll consult with her fiancé and come up with a final choice and then we’ll call you for another appointment, Alexis.”
“Yes, of course.”
Sharon looked at her watch. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we really must be going. We’re having dinner with her fiancé’s parents this evening and we need to change. No need to walk us to our car. Thank you for the lovely tour, Kinley. It’s going to be the perfect spot for my daughter’s wedding, no matter what theme she chooses. Nice to meet you, Logan.”
Mother and daughter hurried away, climbing the terraced steps to the side lawn and disappearing around the building. Liberty was still babbling about oversize decorations as her voice faded into the distance.
Logan barely waited until the pair was out of earshot. Hands on his hips beneath his jacket, he glared at both Kinley and Alexis. “Mardi Gras floats? Are you freaking kidding me? Or maybe she’ll go back to her original Japanese idea and expect me to cut all the trees down to bonsai size and convert the gazebo into a pagoda. What the hell is wrong with just having a Blue Ridge Mountain theme, since that’s where they’re having their damn wedding?”
