A Proposal at the Wedding Read online

  “Holly sounds amazing. It’s nice that you’ve stayed friendly for Cassie’s sake.”

  “It’s been for my sake, too,” he assured her. What might have been wistfulness momentarily clouded his eyes when he explained, “I lost both my parents fairly young. Holly and Larry have been generous enough to include me in their family so that I was able to be a big part of Cassie’s life—and of the twins’, for that matter. They call me Uncle Paul. They’ve spent almost as many weekends with me as Cassie has.

  “Larry’s a really great guy,” he added quickly, “but he’s a brainy engineer who has no interest in sports or outdoor activities, so I was the one who taught Cassie and the twins how to throw a ball and cast a line and ride a horse. I guess some people would consider it an odd arrangement, but it’s worked very well for us.”

  Bonnie thought it was rather charming, though she couldn’t help wondering how other women in Paul’s life felt about him remaining so close to his daughter’s mother. She could see how it might be intimidating for an outsider to try to make a place for herself in that cozy arrangement. Was there a woman in Paul’s life now? She could think of no subtle way to ask.

  She really had been too narrowly focused on the inn for the past few years, she thought ruefully. It would be three years in October since she and her brother and sister had inherited the place from their late, maternal great-uncle, and the first of November would mark their second anniversary of reopening to guests after a year of renovations. Those three years had been busy and challenging, leaving little time for a social life. She’d almost forgotten how to flirt, and she could hardly remember the last time she’d gone beyond flirtation. It was definitely time to address that situation. She had even considered signing up with an online dating service.

  She supposed she could consider this impromptu coffee break as practice…or maybe a possible beginning? Paul had certainly remained in her thoughts after their previous meetings.

  “It sounds as though Cassie and her siblings had a close extended support system,” she said, trying to stay focused on the conversation. “That had to be good for them.”

  Paul nodded, his expression suddenly hard to read. “Yeah. It’s been great. But a lot of things are changing. For Cassie and for me.”

  With a slight shake of his head, he reached again for his cookie before she could decide how to respond. “I don’t usually tell my life story over coffee, but since you’ll be helping us with the wedding arrangements, I figured you’d want to know you don’t have to go out of your way to accommodate the bride’s parents. Nor do you have to worry about anything unpleasant occurring during the event. We’re cool with whatever works best for Cassie and the wedding planner.”

  Bonnie chuckled. “That is very helpful. But I have little to do with the actual wedding ceremony. My sister handles the arrangements with the planner and the subcontractors. I take care of the inn itself—hosting overnight guests, preparing and serving breakfast six days a week, Sunday brunch and a light supper Sunday evening, and any special food orders not handled by an outside caterer. Our brother takes care of the grounds. He’ll hang special lights or put up torches or garland or whatever else Cassie wants for decorations.”

  “You have your responsibilities well-defined.”

  “When you’re dealing with siblings, that’s the best plan of action,” she said, knowing Logan and Kinley, her brother and sister, would heartily agree.

  He laughed. “I can imagine.”

  Kinley and Logan had been a bit hesitant about the massive undertaking of refurbishing and reopening a 1930s-era inn that had been closed to guests for eighteen years before it had been willed to them, especially considering the state of the economy at the time. Great-uncle Leo Finley had done his best to keep the place up but it had become too much for him to do more than basic maintenance. After he’d lost his dear wife, Helen, who had been his longtime partner in both life and business, he hadn’t had the heart to keep their inn running. But neither had he been able to sell the establishment his own father had built and operated for years. Leo’s will had bequeathed the inn and a sizable life insurance policy equally to his great nieces and nephew, with full permission for them to do with it as they wished—though he’d known it was Bonnie’s lifelong dream to reopen it.

  Bonnie had begged and cajoled her brother and sister into investing everything they had—financially, emotionally, physically—into restoring their heritage. Or as her sister termed it, she had “bullied” them into it. Bonnie knew her petite blonde appearance could be deceptive. She might look like a pushover, but when she set her mind on something, she could be tenacious.

  With her degree and experience in hotel management, Kinley’s marketing and sales background, and Logan’s computer training and eclectic interests in landscaping and construction, she had assured her siblings they had a fighting chance for success. What was the worst that could happen? she’d asked. Bankruptcy? A hard pill to swallow, but they could recover from that eventually, as long as they had each other.

  Maybe that final argument had been a little cheesy, but it had worked.

  “We’re pleased that Cassie chose the inn as the venue for her wedding,” she said sincerely. “I promise we’ll all do our best to make the experience everything she hopes for.”

  “I’m sure you will. Cassie said she had a good feeling about the inn the first time she saw it.”

  “I’m glad. She seems like a sweetheart.”

  Obviously, she’d found Paul’s weakness. His jade eyes warmed as his smile softened. “I’m biased, of course, but I think she’s pretty special. Smart as a whip, like her mom. She graduated as her high school’s valedictorian, will complete her bachelor’s degree with honors in August, and is already accepted into an elite graduate program in London starting in January. She’s studying fashion design. She’s very talented.”

  There was something especially appealing about a man who was so unabashedly crazy about his child. “Family man” was number one on the list of qualities she would look for in a potential partner. She’d always thought she would like to marry and perhaps start a family someday, but before she committed fully to anyone, she would have to be very sure he was completely ready to settle down, prepared to work as hard as she at making the union last. The total opposite of her own footloose father, who’d left his family when Bonnie was only four to pursue his own ever-restless dreams of traveling the world.

  “I can tell you’re very proud of Cassie. With good reason, obviously.”

  He grimaced good-naturedly. “I know, I’m bragging shamelessly. I’m having a hard time accepting that she’s about to marry and move to another continent. I tried to talk her into waiting a couple of years, but she and Mike are determined to get married now, so I’ve just had to accept her decision. Still, it seems like just last week I was tucking her into bed after letting her eat a forbidden fast-food burger and ice cream sundae for dinner.”

  “Did you let the twins have forbidden food, too?”

  He winked at her. “Why do you think they consider me their favorite uncle?”

  Bonnie was enjoying this conversation. Having spent so much time lately with her reticent, taciturn older brother, it was nice to chat with a man who was comfortably talkative. “Good conversationalist” was high on that list of desirable traits in a man, followed by “good sense of humor.”

  “Speaking of food…” She glanced down at the market bag at his feet, wondering if what she was about to suggest was foolish. “I don’t know if you’re interested or have time, but beginning next Tuesday, I’m teaching a few classes in cooking with seasonal produce. The classes will meet at the inn for the next three Tuesday evenings from six until eight and we’ll cover buying produce, knife skills, cooking methods and ways to preserve fresh produce for off-season use.”

  Her sister had told her that Paul taught high school, which p
robably explained why he was free today on a summer weekday. Maybe he was looking for something else to do during his break?

  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.”
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  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.”