Best Laid Wedding Plans

by Lynnette Austin

  “Exactly.”

  When he stepped off his small ladder, she threw her arms around him. “Thank you, Charlie.”

  He blushed. “Just doin’ my job.”

  “You’re doing more than that. You’re bringing new life to this place.”

  His blush deepened.

  “And I’ve embarrassed you.”

  “I can live with that.” He laughed. “It’s not every day a pretty little thing like you gives me a hug. Can’t take it too seriously, though, seein’ as how you’re about the same age as my granddaughter.”

  * * *

  Every muscle in Jenni Beth’s body ached. She and Charlie had worked their butts off yesterday, but, oh, was it worth it. Today, though, she’d find a few less strenuous jobs.

  Tucked inside a bureau drawer, she uncovered a pair of pewter candlesticks. Her gut insisted they’d be perfect on the small table by the side window. Eager to see how they’d look, she headed for her office.

  She’d barely opened the French doors and stepped inside when the phone rang. For an instant, she hesitated. Gathering her wits, she answered, “Magnolia Brides. Let us plan the perfect wedding for you.”

  She grinned. What the heck. Might as well try it out.

  To her surprise, the woman on the other end gave a little squeal of delight. “Is this Jenni Beth Beaumont?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “My name’s Stella Reinhardt, and I am so excited to talk to you.”

  Jenni Beth dropped onto the window seat, the candlesticks cradled in her lap. “How can I help you, Stella?”

  “Lorrie Davis—You know Lorrie Davis, right?”

  “I sure do. We went to school together.”

  Lorrie had, in fact, been a year ahead of Jenni Beth and hell on wheels. Lorrie and Cole might have had something going on for a bit. Actually, Jenni Beth suspected a fairly large percentage of Misty Bottoms High School boys had had something going on with Lorrie.

  “She told me you were opening your home as a wedding venue, so I went online and checked out your website. Magnolia House is so beautiful! I have to have my wedding there, Ms. Beaumont!”

  Jenni Beth nearly jumped out of her skin. A client! A real, honest-to-goodness client.

  She fanned herself, took a few seconds. “When is your wedding?”

  “That’s the kicker,” Stella said. “Two weeks from last Saturday. You’re booked, aren’t you?”

  “Two weeks?” Yikes. Jenni Beth wanted to cry. Her very first client, and she had to turn her down. Nothing for it but to tell the truth.

  “Actually, Stella, I’m afraid this is that good news, bad news scenario. We’re not booked.”

  She heard a little cry of joy and hurried on. “But…we’re not ready for a wedding yet. We’re in the middle of a major renovation.”

  “No!”

  “Believe me, I’m so sorry. I feel as badly as you do.”

  “But I’ve always dreamed of getting married at a Southern plantation. Is there any way?”

  “I don’t—”

  “How about the rose garden? I saw it on your site, and that’s actually where Bear and I want to get married. Outside, with Magnolia House in the background.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously. We’re bikers, my fiancé and I. Harley riders. We’d prefer outdoors.”

  “Bikers?”

  “Yep. But we’re not rowdy or anything,” she added quickly. “I mean, we’re not gonna make a mess at your house. Bear and I—” She laughed. “Bear. That’s what I call Steve. We just want to get married.” Jenni Beth heard the love. The wistfulness. “And I want somewhere gorgeous. I want your rose garden.”

  Her mind kicked into gear. The garden was still a little rough, but it could be ready.

  “If we can have our cake in the garden,” Stella said, “maybe our first dance, we’d like to have the reception at Duffy’s Pub.”

  Jenni Beth could have reached through the line and kissed her. “You’ve been to Misty Bottoms before?”

  “Lots of times. We ride through on our way to bike week in Ft. Lauderdale.”

  “Hmmm. Duffy’s Pub. I’m not sure how many—”

  “It’s a small group. Including us, there’ll probably be twelve to fifteen, give or take a couple.”

  They discussed dressing rooms, what kind of cake she wanted, flowers. Stella would get dressed right here in Jenni Beth’s office, then her maid of honor would drive her out to the rose garden on the back of a Harley. The groom would change in the downstairs study.

  By the time they hung up, Jenni Beth had pages of scribbled notes. She and Stella could handle the remaining details by email. All the bride had to do was show up. Jenni Beth would see to the details.

  Her first booking!

  White roses, tulle, and lace. Beaded gowns and champagne. And for this first wedding? Harleys! She wanted to spend the rest of her life up to her neck in this.

  A celebration was in order.

  * * *

  Cole stomped the dirt off his boots and knocked on Magnolia House’s front door. It looked like some good stuff happening here. Lots had been accomplished in a very short period of time. Beck had himself a good team of men.

  When Mrs. Beaumont answered the door, Cole snatched off his Atlanta Braves ball cap and raked his fingers through his hat hair. “Evenin’, ma’am.”

  “Oh, Cole.” She took him by the hand and led him inside. “Isn’t this lovely?” She ran the tip of her shoe over the newly sanded floor. “Beck tells me they’ll stain them tomorrow. Thank you for all your help, sweetheart.”

  He took her proffered kiss and returned it with one on her petal-soft cheek. She smelled of lilacs. Always had. Wes’s mom was a lady through and through, born to the Southern way.

  His mom was a lady, too, but Emma Bryson didn’t go in for quite as much pampering. They’d had livestock when he was younger, and the barn had been a working one. Taking care of cattle was a seven-day-a-week, dawn-to-dusk job. So his mom and dad had labored hard. The Beaumonts and the Brysons didn’t run in the same social circles, except on poker night. But that hadn’t made a bit of difference to him and Wes, brothers by all but birth.

  “Is Jenni Beth here?”

  “Oh, she’s around somewhere. Honestly, she was down on this floor like a common laborer a couple days ago. After that, she and Charlie Pearce worked all yesterday in the carriage house.” Mrs. Beaumont shook her head. “Todd tells me not to stew about it, that things have changed, and our daughter is doing what needs to be done.”

  She looked up at him with those same slate-blue eyes Jenni Beth saw in the mirror every day. Those eyes that drove him wild. That saw too much, knew too much. Too often hurt too much.

  “That’s where she is now. Out in the carriage house.” Todd stepped into the hallway, a glass of iced tea in hand. He held it up. “Want a cold drink?”

  “No, thanks. I need to run a couple things past your daughter.”

  Mr. Beaumont slapped Cole on the back. “I want to add my thanks. You and Beck have really pitched in to help Jenni Beth with this crazy idea of hers.” He hesitated. “To be perfectly truthful, it’s important to all of us. We’re taking on water here at Magnolia House. Sue Ellen and I have pretty much made a muddle of things. And shame on us for that.”

  He reached for his wife’s hand, took it in his, and lightly rubbed his thumb over the back of it. “Things weren’t great before, but after Wes…” He stopped, cleared his throat.

  “I understand,” Cole said. “Believe me, I miss your son every morning and every night and a dozen times in between.”

  Mrs. Beaumont swiped at tears. “You’re such a blessing.”

  “Jenni Beth loves you both.”

  “We know that,” Mr. Beaumont said. “I’m afraid we’ve let her down, too. We’ve really scre
wed up.”

  “No.” Cole shook his head. “You haven’t. You simply staggered a little under the weight of it all. This plan of Jenni Beth’s? It’ll be good for the entire family.”

  Mr. Beaumont met his gaze. “She thinks she can save the whole town.”

  Cole chuckled. “And knowin’ your daughter? She just might do that.”

  Todd laughed. “You’re right.”

  Cole reached for the doorknob. “I’m gonna go see if I can find her.”

  “You’ll be surprised at what she’s done out there. Looks like a different space all together.”

  “It’s so romantic,” Mrs. Beaumont added. “So—weddingish. I helped her choose the wall color.”

  With a smile, Cole excused himself and headed along the brick path to the carriage house. Jenni Beth had already accomplished one mammoth goal. Her parents were interested in something other than their own grief.

  “Well done, sweetheart,” he murmured.

  Chapter 22

  As the building came into view, Cole nodded approval for the white sheers at the windows, the wreath on the newly installed red French doors, the crisp white shutters. Large white metal buckets, exploding with color, stood like sentries at the doorway. She’d filled them with red geraniums, green vines, and some kind of white and blue flowers.

  The place looked exactly right. Classy but contemporary. Professional but homey.

  What she still needed? A sign to hang from a wrought-iron arm. And he knew exactly where to find it.

  He smiled, then knocked at the door. Music drifted out to him. Country again. Hmmm. What kind of mood would he find her in?

  He’d missed her. It galled him to admit that, even to himself. He admired her. He respected her. He wanted her—so damn badly that he hurt.

  He knocked again.

  “Come in!”

  He turned the knob, took half a step inside, and stopped. If he’d thought she’d done a bang-up job on the exterior, the interior about knocked him off his feet.

  Welcoming. And feminine. A guy would have to be very careful in here. Of course, the ones who walked through this door would be head-over-heels in love with the women beside them and more than happy to sit in this female nest and agree with anything they wanted.

  And then he spotted Jenni Beth. A glass of champagne in one hand, a piece of chocolate in the other, she sent him a sloppy grin.

  “Hi, Cole. I’m having some champagne.” She held up a half-empty bottle. Nestled in a chintz easy chair, her legs draped over the arm, she grinned lopsidedly at him. “I have some left.”

  “I see that.”

  Well on her way to draining the bottle, she was tipsy, he realized with amusement. Here, in her office, in the middle of the day. And very, very happy.

  He doubted she’d be as happy about it later, though, so he’d better step in and save her from herself.

  “How about I join you? Help you finish off that bottle.” He snagged the champagne, poured himself a flute, and moved the bottle to her desk, well out of reach.

  “Is that all you want?” she asked, a sexy little smile on those full, pouty lips. Untangling herself, she stood and wrapped one arm around his neck.

  His heart thumped hard enough to fly out of his chest. For a second, he held her close, rested his chin on all that glorious hair, and breathed in the clean, sweet scent of her.

  Hands at her waist, he drew back slightly. “What’s goin’ on, sugar?”

  “I booked a wedding!” The smile burst from her.

  “What?”

  “Stella and Bear, well, Steve.” She giggled. “My first bride and groom! I’m celebrating.”

  She raised her free hand in a salute, the champagne sloshing in her glass.

  He groaned.

  “Want to help?” she asked.

  “Help with what?” His mind had blanked.

  “My celebration.”

  He blew out a huge breath. He’d stepped into deep water and was going under fast.

  “You’ll regret this tomorrow,” he warned.

  “I don’t think so. And, Cole?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’ll still respect you in the morning.”

  Before he could come up with anything, she kissed him. Hot and hungry. Demanding.

  He let himself go, lost himself in the kiss, the taste of chocolate, champagne, and sexy woman. Tongue danced with tongue, and her body melted into his, her skin soft as rainwater under his workman’s hands.

  He couldn’t get enough.

  Her soft moan snapped him out of the trance.

  He took a step away, and his hands stilled. “We can’t do this, Jenni Beth. Not here, not now.”

  “’Spose not.” She tugged at her shirt, straightened it.

  The champagne high remained, her lopsided grin back.

  “Tell me about your bride.”

  She laughed. “You won’t believe it.”

  “Oh, you might be surprised.”

  “Yeah? Magnolia House’s first bride is a biker chick.”

  His brows rose, and she nodded smugly.

  “I told you. It’s not quite what I imagined for my first, but—” She shrugged. “The bride is ecstatic, and so am I.”

  * * *

  Wandering to the safety of her desk, she explained that Stella was the friend of a friend.

  “Lorrie Davis. You remember her.”

  His ears turned red. “Yeah, I do. She was a year behind me in school.”

  “That’s right.” She couldn’t help but dig. “If I’m not mistaken, you knew her pretty well.”

  “We might have gone out a couple times.”

  “I heard a rumor or two to that effect.” She could almost set aside that tiny lick of jealousy as she watched him squirm.

  She rambled on, filling him in on what they’d accomplished with the house while he’d been in Savannah. The entire time she talked, her mind raced. Her body tingled. How stupid to have kissed him. Here.

  Thank God he’d the good sense to step away. Of course, he hadn’t emptied half a bottle of champagne. But could she blame it on that?

  Probably not. Shoot.

  “When do Stella and Steve plan to hold this wedding?”

  “In two weeks.”

  “You’re kiddin’.” His smile faded.

  She shook her head.

  He moved close, stared into her eyes, and placed his palm on her forehead.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Checkin’ to see if you’re delusional with fever.”

  She swatted his hand away.

  “Honey, I don’t want to be that clichéd wet blanket, but you can’t possibly be ready in time.”

  “Yes, I can. That’s the truly fantastic part. The bride wants the ceremony in the rose garden. We won’t need the house itself for anything more than a backdrop.”

  She made another happy sound. “I explained we were renovating, that the bridal suite wouldn’t be finished. She doesn’t care. She’s perfectly okay with using this office as her bride’s room and insists the garden area suits her and her groom to a T.”

  She bit her lip. “This is exactly what I didn’t want to do, though. A hodgepodge, put-out-fires type of job. But…” She sighed. “I have a chance to make some money and start a portfolio. How can I turn it down? It’s like a little gift from heaven.”

  Tears welled in her eyes, and she blinked them away. “Maybe this is Wes up there, helping.”

  Cole nodded, his face a mask. “You’re right. You have to do what you have to do. Speaking of which, this place is phenomenal.” He turned, taking in her small office.

  “It is, isn’t it? Look at the chandelier.” She flipped the switch, and the crystals glittered.

  “Nice.”

  “Charlie Pearce hel
ped me with the room. And Jeeters.” She grinned and swiped at the last of her tears.

  “That’s what your mother said.”

  “I pulled it off on a shoestring thanks to Beck and you.”

  “This isn’t my work.”

  “No, but you’ve put in some sweaty days. And you gave me this fabulous light. Plus, I found some things at Dinky Tubbs’s salvage that worked really well, thanks to you. Come look at the bath.”

  He followed her, stood with both hands on the doorjamb, and peered inside. “Impeccable.” He walked to the sink and turned the water on, then off. “These faucets are great.”

  “Very upper-crust, don’t you think? Dinky said he found them in an old Atlanta hotel.”

  “I do. You and Dinky hit it off pretty well, huh?”

  “We did.” Jenni Beth looked at Cole. “He told me his shop was nothing compared to yours.”

  “Come see it, Jenni Beth. I’ve asked you before. Savannah’s an hour’s drive at most, and I’ve got a lot of great pieces you can use. This place won’t self-destruct if you leave for a couple days.”

  “I don’t know, Cole. I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

  “I’m not invitin’ you for an illicit weekend.”

  Heat raced up her chest, her cheeks. “I didn’t say you were.”

  “But that’s what you’re thinkin’.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Oh yeah, sugar, I do. And that pretty pink tinge on your cheeks tells me I’m right on the mark.”

  “After dinner at your house…”

  “Don’t forget the pre-dinner appetizer. Pretty good, huh?”

  “Yes.” Despite herself, she broke into a grin, blamed it on the remnants of champagne in her system. “Maybe too good.”

  “No such thing. We’ve stepped over that line, sugar, whatever it is.” His gaze drilled her. “Why are you runnin’ cold again?”

  She gave a little half-laugh. “Oh, there’s no cold, believe me. But I have a lot to do. Especially now that I have a booking.”

  “That’s not it. It’s Savannah, isn’t it?”

  “Go away, Cole.”

  “Damn it, Jenni Beth. I was a jerk. A total jackass.” He threw his hands in the air. “I admit it, okay? If I could go back—”