by Nina Lindsey
“Oh, there you are!” Rory’s voice rose above the chatter and noise as she approached.
“Rory.” Relieved, Grant grabbed her arm and hauled her closer. “Meet Vivian, an old friend of the family.”
“Well, not old.” Vivian gave him an arch smile, her eyes frosting over as she looked at Rory. “And you are?”
“Vivian, this is my girlfriend Rory.” To emphasize the point—Vivian had never been good at taking a hint—he wrapped his arm around Rory’s waist and pulled her against him.
“Girlfriend.” Vivian’s smile remained fixed in place, though her eyes darkened. “Last I heard, Grant Taylor had sworn off girlfriends. To say nothing of fiancées.”
Grant’s shoulders tensed. “Sounds like you heard wrong.”
“Or I changed his mind.” Rory smiled with a sweetness like honey. “The right woman can do that, you know. Just as the wrong one can scar a man for life. Would you excuse us, please? I’m so anxious to meet the rest of Grant’s family. I plan to see a lot of them all in the near future.”
She grabbed his hand and tugged him back toward the table. “Well, she’s pretty much what I expected.”
“Yeah. My only regret is that I didn’t figure it out sooner. Thanks for the save.”
“Grant!” A matronly woman in a glittering gown swept toward him, brandishing a martini. “How wonderful to see you again. Come say hello to my Thomas. He’s visiting from London, where he’s working with a large financial company. I know he’ll want to catch up.”
She grasped his arm firmly. Rory smiled and wiggled her fingers in sympathetic farewell as Mrs. Watterson steered him toward her Thomas.
Even when he was getting bored out of his mind listening to Thomas drone on about the value of the pound versus the dollar, Grant kept his gaze on Rory.
She wandered the room, plucking hors d’oeuvres off trays, chatting with the bartender and whatever guest happened to be standing alone. At one point, he caught her helping one of the bridesmaids untangle her dress from the arm of a chair where it had snagged.
Despite her tough-girl attitude and her snark, Rory was a softie at heart. She’d always been steadfastly there for her sisters and mother, committed to her work, always showing up when and where she was needed.
Warmth and something else swirled in Grant’s chest. Tenderness. Regret over the fact that Rory would be leaving Bliss Cove soon. For some reason, it felt like it was happening too soon. As if something wasn’t quite finished, though he didn’t know what.
He did know that while he no longer felt anything for Vivian, he’d been storing up a lot of feelings for Rory.
Chapter 7
Rory watched Grant navigate the reception, his tall, powerful figure weaving around the tables like a blade slicing through cloth.
Though he moved with the same confidence and grace at the Mousehole, a guardedness surrounded him in the reception hall, as if he were protecting himself from both criticism and opportunists. While everyone at the tavern loved him, no one there ever wanted anything from him that he wasn’t willing to give.
That wasn’t the case here. Vivian aside, other people in his family’s circle clearly wanted and expected things from Grant Taylor. Several guests greeted him with warmth and embraces, but an equal number made underhanded remarks (“Your mother wants you at the altar next.” “Your father could use you at Intellix.” “Still wasting your talent, son?”).
To his credit, Grant responded with polite graciousness, though Rory saw the tension lining his shoulders and the stiffness of his spine.
A polished, elegant woman seated at a table grabbed his wrist as he passed, bringing him to a halt.
Rory started to rise, instinctively wanting to be at his side. Then she saw Vivian sitting in the chair beside the woman, and the similarity in their features left no doubt that they were mother and daughter.
She sank back into her chair. One confrontation with Grant’s ex-fiancée was enough. Though she was supposed to be his girlfriend, she didn’t want to make herself memorable to this circle of people.
Grant spoke for a few minutes with the older woman, who indicated Vivian. He smiled, his eyes emptying. If Rory had any curiosity about his lingering feelings for the other woman, they disappeared in that instant. He didn’t even dislike Vivian—not anymore, at least.
Rory reached for her wineglass, dispelling a sudden unease. She would hate to be the recipient of Grant’s indifference.
He detached his arm from the woman, nodded curtly, and strode back to the table. The tightness in Rory’s chest eased as he took his place beside her.
“You okay?” she whispered.
“I am now.” He shot her a faint smile.
“Attention, please.” A fork clinked on glass, and Edward Taylor rose from the head table. “Before the dancing begins, we’d like to make several toasts to the happy couple.”
The chatter died down.
“I’ve been lucky in many ways.” Edward settled his hand on Nathan’s shoulder. “I started my company at the right moment in time. I married the love of my life. I was there when the Giants won the pennant”—the guests laughed—“and I’ve seen more of the world than I thought I would. All of that has been a great fortune. But I won the parenting lottery with my son Nathan. I’m exceeding proud to have a son who is so dedicated, intelligent, and determined to do what’s right not only for him, but for his family. Not every son possesses such loyalty and good character.”
Rory’s stomach clenched. Really, Edward?
Joanna, seated at her husband’s left, thinned her mouth into a tight line. Nathan pulled at his bow-tie with discomfort.
“Not every son values his upbringing and is grateful for the privileges he’s been given,” Edward continued. “Not every son recognizes the meaning of the word family. But Nathan does. That is just one reason why I’m so pleased that today he and Alice are starting the journey to create a family of their own.”
Applause rose along with a few hoots of approval. Edward ended with a toast to the couple and resumed his seat. Joanna grabbed his arm and hissed a few angry words in his ear.
Rory risked a glance at Grant. His face was expressionless, but a muscle ticked in his jaw. She considered asking him to leave, but he would never walk out and disrupt his brother’s reception.
Alice’s father rose for a speech. Thankfully, no one else lacked the grace to make underhanded comments about Grant, choosing instead to focus on the happiness of the newlywed couple.
Dinner followed—the King crab legs were delicious—then the cutting of the four-tiered cake and dancing. Though Rory warned Grant that she was a terrible dancer, he turned out to possess such expertise that after two spins around the floor, she was ready to audition for Broadway.
“Where did you learn how to dance?” Breathless and flushed, she let him twirl her again.
“Ten years of private lessons.” He shook his head with a humorless laugh. “My mother wanted to make sure Nathan and I knew how to dance with a woman. I drew the line when she tried to sign me up for ballroom dancing competitions.”
Rory grinned at the thought of a younger Grant dressed in a glittery sequined costume. “You’d rather make salsa than dance the salsa.”
He chuckled. “I’m better at the former, too.”
“Grant!” Nathan barreled across the dance floor. A trickle of sweat ran down his temple. “You’re not going to believe this.”
Grant brought him and Rory to a halt, her hand still encased in his and his arm around her waist. “You want to cut in, all you have to do is ask.”
“I don’t want to cut in.” Nathan threw Rory an apologetic look. “No offense.”
“None taken.”
“Man, you gotta do something.” Nathan grabbed his brother’s sleeve, his forehead crinkling with desperation. “This is, like, an epic disaster. I know there’s been a lot of champagne and stuff, but I don’t think she’s drunk. I think she’s serious.”
“Hold up.” Releas
ing Rory, Grant turned to his younger brother. Concern darkened his eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“Mom.” Nathan spread his arm out in agitation. “Maybe she’s finally gone off the deep end after Dad’s little shade-throwing speech, but she just decided that wouldn’t it be wonderful if she and Dad took a much-needed vacation.”
“So what’s wrong with that?”
Nathan fisted his hands in Grant’s suit jacket, horror widening his eyes. “A vacation with me and Alice on our honeymoon.”
“What?”
“Whoa,” Rory murmured.
“Right?” Nathan stared at her, still clutching Grant’s jacket. “It’s insane.”
“She’s not serious.” Grant shook his head in disbelief. “She and Dad are not going with you on your honeymoon.”
“That’s what I thought at first, but I swear to God, she thinks she had the most brilliant idea since what’s-his-name discovered electricity. She was just going off about how Dad’s been under so much stress lately and trying to explain why he was such an asshole in his speech, and how much work she’s done planning the wedding, then she announces that they’re going to Bali for a week for some much-needed R&R and staying in the same hotel as me and Alice. I’m about to have a heart attack.”
“First, chill out for a second.” Grant took hold of his brother’s shoulders and gave him a slight shake. “Did you tell her no fucking way? In nicer words?”
“Yeah, I told her no! And she got all pouty and reminded me that she and Dad had sprung for half the wedding and the entire honeymoon and spared no expense at all, which is true, but really? Our honeymoon?”
“What did Dad say?”
“Nothing! He got all stone-faced and annoyed, but he didn’t say no. He didn’t say no, man.”
“When are you leaving?”
“Tomorrow morning.” Nathan swiveled to look at the head table, where Joanna was busy texting on her phone and chatting with another woman. “She already called Simon and told him to book the flight for her and Dad, and to arrange for them to stay in the suite next to ours. The same flight. The next-door suite. I can’t take it. I can’t even tell Alice. She loves Mom, but aside from being the biggest meddler of all time, Mom has been a total mother-of-the-groom bridezilla or whatever. Alice really needs a break from her. If I tell her Mom’s going to be on our honeymoon, Alice will cry. She will sob. The only reason I want my wife weeping on our honeymoon is because she can’t believe how happy she is.”
“Okay.” Grant pulled in a breath and squeezed his brother’s shoulder. “I’ll figure something out.”
“What?”
“I don’t know yet. I said I will figure something out.”
“I can’t have Mom and Dad anywhere near Indonesia.” Nathan scraped his hands frantically through his hair. “I don’t even want them in the southern hemisphere. And knowing they’re in the same hotel, right next door…Jesus, I probably wouldn’t even be able to get it up.” He winced. “Sorry, Rory.”
“I can see how that would kill the mood,” she agreed.
“It will serial kill the mood.” Nathan clutched Grant’s lapels again. “You gotta help me, man. Do something.”
“I will.”
“What?”
“Still future tense.” Grant detached his brother’s fists from his jacket and glanced at Rory. “I’ll come find you in a few minutes. Sorry about this.”
“Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.” She gave Nathan a sympathetic pat on the shoulder and returned to the table. Joanna was still chatting happily and busy on her phone—maybe looking up “things to do” in Bali for her and the newlyweds.
Grant would take care of it. There was no question in Rory’s mind that he’d fix this for his brother and Alice. The certainty of the thought didn’t surprise her. For the past two years, he’d been the most dependable person she knew.
She watched as he stood at the side of the room with Nathan, still apparently talking his brother off the ledge.
A fluttering sensation appeared in her chest. She hadn’t quite realized until recently just how much she’d come to count on Grant. Stupid singing fish, artichoke soup, faded T-shirts, and all.
As she was eating another piece of cake, he returned to the table and sat down. Lines bracketed his mouth, and his shoulders were still tense.
“Any luck?” she asked.
“I haven’t been able to get my mother alone yet. I don’t want to wait until after the reception because she could very well leave for the airport right away. If she—”
“Grant, guess what?” Joanna sailed toward them, dragging Edward behind her. “I finally convinced your father to take a vacation.”
“Convinced is not the right word.” Edward’s features settled into a heavy frown.
“That’s great, Mom. Listen, I—”
“I’ve decided that since Nathan and Alice are going to Indonesia, this would be a perfect opportunity for your father and I to tag along!” Joanna held up a hand with a laugh. “I know, I know. It’s their honeymoon. But as I explained to Nathan, we’re not going to monopolize all their time. I’ve found a few activities we can do together, like elephant riding and Balinese massages, and perhaps some visits to the temples. But, of course, Nathan and Alice will want to spend time alone, so—”
“Mom.” Grant stood so fast that his chair almost tipped over backward. “Nathan and Alice want to spend all their time alone on their honeymoon. You and Dad need to go somewhere else. Like Hawaii.”
“Exactly what I said,” Edward muttered.
“I’ve been to Hawaii a million times.” Joanna sighed and lifted her hands. “Neither your father nor I have been to Bali and, honestly, it’s not as if we’re going to be staying in the honeymoon suite. We’ll just be next door. Rory understands, don’t you, dear? Oh, by the way, I do hope you’ll join us for breakfast tomorrow morning in the hotel restaurant.”
Grant closed his hand on Rory’s shoulder in a silent signal. She picked up her beaded pocketbook and stood.
“Sorry, Mom, but we’re going to hit the road early.” He put his hand on Rory’s back, steering her toward the coat check. “We both have to get back to work.”
“Well, that’s disappointing.” Her face falling for an instant, Joanna hurried to catch up with them. “How long of a drive is it to…what’s it called?”
“Bliss Cove.”
“Oh, yes. I looked it up when you first moved there, didn’t I, Edward?” Joanna beamed at her husband, who was still beside her like a massive stone statue. “I suggested that we drive to Los Angeles and stop in Bliss Cove on the way, but of course your father insisted on flying. Anyway, I wanted to let you know about our trip to Bali in case you need to reach us.”
“Mom, you cannot join Nathan and Alice on their honeymoon.” Grant stopped and faced his mother again. A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Besides, I’m sure Dad can’t take the time off.”
“Nonsense. He’s long overdue for a vacation, and my women’s club is closed for restoration this coming week. We’re going to think of it as our second honeymoon. The timing is perfect.”
“Then go somewhere else.” Grant’s voice hardened. “You have got to stop interfering in people’s lives like this. Nathan and Alice deserve the time alone. There are countless other places you and Dad can go.”
“I don’t want to go to Europe again.” Joanna rolled her eyes, making it sound as if Europe were the vacation equivalent of watching paint dry. “I’d love to spend a week relaxing by the beach…oh! I just had a thought. I suppose we could come and visit you and Rory in Bliss Cove instead.”
Grant looked up sharply. Rory’s heart stuttered. She’d thought yesterday that maybe if Edward and Joanna actually saw where Grant lived and worked, they might ease up on him. But she hadn’t expected Joanna to make the suggestion herself. And right now?
“This week isn’t a good time, Mom.” Grant sounded as if he were speaking through clenched teeth.
“
Nonsense.” His mother waved a dismissive hand. “You just told me we need to go somewhere else. Well, what better somewhere else is there than where you and Rory live? We do see Nathan and Alice all the time, and of course we rarely see you. It’s a wonderful solution.”
“There’s not much going on in town this coming week,” Rory said quickly. “You should come around Christmas time. Bliss Cove goes nuts over the holidays. Winter Carnival, Gingerbread House contest, Polar Bear Swim, you name it. Super fun stuff. Well worth waiting for.”
“Wait a moment.” Joanna furrowed her brow and took her phone from her purse. “Didn’t I read something about a Harvest Festival in Bliss Cove this coming weekend? It sounded quite charming.”
Rory forced a weak smile. “I almost forgot about that.”
“We are not going to Bliss Cove,” Edward snapped, his frown slashing lines on either side of his mouth.
“Oh, excuse me.” Joanna bristled and shot her husband an icicle-cold glare. “May I speak to you alone for a moment?”
“You may.” Straightening his shoulders, he led the way to a nearby column, where Joanna stretched to all of her five-foot-three-with-heels height and began berating him in a low voice.
Grant rubbed his head, as if he were fighting a painful ache. “Rory, I—”
“Edward, how dare you?” Joanna’s angry whisper carried to them with crystal-clear acoustics. “You must be under the impression that you have a say in this matter when, after your unpleasant little innuendos for which you still owe both of your sons and me an apology, you have none whatsoever.”
She poked her husband in the chest. “After all the work I have done to plan this wedding, you have the nerve to disrespect this family like that. I’m going to be kind and chalk it up to stress, overwork, and one too many cocktails, which is the reason we’re taking a vacation. And for the life of me, Edward Taylor, we’re going where I say we’re going.”
Beneath Rory’s lingering shock, a faint respect for Joanna Taylor began to form.
“As I was saying, the Harvest Festival looks delightful.” Joanna smiled as she swept back toward them. She scrolled on her phone. “Music, hayrides, a parade, arts and crafts…why, there’s even a pie contest. How quaint. No elephants, but I suppose you can’t have everything. I did rather have my heart set on Bali, but it’s not too late to change our plans.”