In the middle of a green tree-lined lawn, Hannah held a beat-up red Frisbee over her head, running and laughing as the black-and-white dog and three boys chased after her.
Her pure joy grabbed hold of Jamison, and he didn’t want to let go. Didn’t want to step back from the emotion pouring through him. He wanted to embrace it for all it was worth, and he only wished he had Rory at his side to share in this miracle.
Hillcrest’s magic touches whoever needs it most.
She was magic. She was his princess and fairy godmother rolled into one, and Jamison didn’t know what he would do without her in his life.
As if reading his thoughts, Ryder said, “You have a good thing going with Rory, Jamison.” At Jamison’s questioning glance, his friend added, “Your daughter isn’t exactly a vault when it comes to Miss Rory and how much time you are all spending together.”
“Rory’s...amazing. She’s been so good for Hannah.”
“She’s been good for you. That’s what’s made the biggest change with Hannah. Kids are smarter than most adults give them credit for. She’s taking her cues from you. If you’re happy...”
“She’s happy,” Jamison finished, but he still wasn’t sure he believed it. Or maybe he was too afraid to believe it. Too afraid he couldn’t be this happy in San Francisco. That he wouldn’t be this happy anywhere that Rory wasn’t. “When we get back home...”
“What happens when you get back?”
“I don’t know.” Hannah had come so far, and maybe Ryder was right. Maybe he too had taken some serious strides when it came to being the kind of dad Hannah deserved, but without Rory...he didn’t know if he could keep going in the right direction.
And yet... “Rory and I both agreed. After the wedding, we go our separate ways. No hard feelings.” And no broken hearts.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out a woman like Rory wanted more than a short-term fling. The woman lived and breathed weddings and had made her belief in romance and a love of a lifetime clear.
All of which asked the question of what the hell she was doing with him.
He was jaded, cynical, so wary of love he’d almost blown a longtime friendship because he wasn’t ready to believe Ryder had found a love that would last beyond the honeymoon stage.
“So that’s it?” Ryder twirled the now-empty mug around by the handle, and Jamison had the feeling his friend was thinking of chucking it at his head. “You meet this amazing woman and you’re going to kiss her goodbye?”
Thoughts of kisses and goodbyes took him right back to Rory’s bed that morning. Their relationship was temporary. It had to be. They’d agreed. And nothing this good could last.
He might not know much about fairy tales, but he knew what happened when the clock struck midnight. Their magical night would be over.
“What else am I supposed to do, Ryder? My life is back in San Francisco.”
“Your job is back in San Francisco. Don’t fool yourself by calling that a life. And if you’re going to walk away from the best thing that ever happened to you, at least be honest about the reasons why.”
* * *
“I wanna see Miss Rory!”
Jamison sucked in a breath, struggling for patience—with his daughter and with himself. He wanted to see Rory. He wanted to talk to her about his conversation with Ryder, to let her know he was back on track as Ryder’s best man and as his best friend. He wanted to thank her for that...and for a whole lot more.
A handful of hours had passed since he’d left her bed that morning, and his eagerness to see her again surprised him. Worried him.
I won’t miss you any less if you leave tomorrow.
He wasn’t leaving tomorrow. The wedding was Saturday and his reservation lasted through the weekend, but he couldn’t deny their time together was coming to an end.
He wasn’t worried so much about missing Rory as he was about finding the strength to leave.
“Daddy!”
“Hannah—” Catching himself before he could snap at his daughter, he reminded her, “We can’t see Rory right now. She’s working.”
She’d told him about the small afternoon wedding taking place in the rose garden. She’d spent most of the day yesterday preparing for the event in the hours leading up to the bachelorette party.
“But I wanna tell her about the sleepover! We played games and watched princess movies and Mrs. Kincaid doesn’t know how to make smiley-face oatmeal, but she made smiley-face pancakes instead!”
Pancakes... Jamison closed his eyes with a sigh. That explained the sugar rush that had the little girl bouncing around their suite like the Energizer Bunny. “Why don’t we go outside for a walk?”
“To the gazebo?” Hannah asked, her brown eyes wide.
What kind of father was he that he wanted to keep the memory of his night with Rory and the gazebo to himself? That he wasn’t ready to see the magical spot in the full light of day?
“How about down to the beach instead?”
“Can we hop like bunnies?”
“If we do will it make you super sleepy so you take a big nap this afternoon?”
Hannah wrinkled her forehead. “I don’t think bunnies take naps, Daddy.”
“Of course they don’t,” he muttered as they headed out of the suite and into the hallway. All the time wondering at the odds of convincing his hopping daughter to be a giant sloth instead.
With Hannah tugging at his hand, Jamison stepped out of the lobby and into the sunny, cloudless day. A slight breeze blew off the ocean, cooling the sun’s rays and adding a hint of sea salt to the air. He couldn’t help giving a slight chuckle at the first thought that came to mind.
It really was the perfect day for a wedding.
As they headed down the path leading to the rocky shoreline, a familiar sound rang out in an unfamiliar setting. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his cell phone. He still kept the thing charged, carried it with him everywhere, even though away from the hotel, he rarely had reception.
In San Francisco he could count on one hand the number of times he didn’t respond to a call within half an hour. Here, he’d gotten used to missed calls, lengthy messages and unreturned emails. Most of the time, he waited until the evening when Hannah was asleep to respond.
But not last night.
Last night, San Francisco and the law firm had been the last things on his mind.
But when he saw the name on the screen, he swiped his thumb to answer the call.
“Jeez, Porter, where the hell are you, the dark side of the moon?” his friend and fellow lawyer Donnie Lipinski demanded. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for days!”
“Sorry, cell coverage is pretty spotty around here.”
His friend swore so loudly Jamison automatically looked to Hannah who was tugging on his arm. “Give me a second, will you, Hannah Banana?”
“I wanna see Rory!”
“In a minute.”
Hannah dropped to her butt in a pout, arms crossed over her chest and bottom lip stuck out as far as it would go. “Count to one hundred and I’ll be ready to go,” he promised.
Lifting the phone back to his ear, Jamison caught Donnie midstream. “...middle-of-nowhere vacation?”
“One! Two! Three!”
Hannah’s counting reached an almost-obnoxious volume, and Jamison covered his ear with his free hand. “I’m here for a friend’s wedding,” he reminded Donnie.
“A wedding lasts what, a day? Maybe two if you get suckered into going to the rehearsal dinner. You’ve been there almost two weeks.” Lowering his voice, he added, “Do you know how many clients Martinez and Harris have met with in two weeks? And word has it Martinez grabbed the Langstone account.”
Jamison took his turn swearing, though he was careful to do it under his breath. The firm encouraged competition between its empl
oyees, with a “may the best man win” mentality. Langstone Communications was a coveted account, one he’d thought he had a good shot of landing...two weeks ago.
“They’re pushing hard toward the finish line, and you’re still stuck in the blocks, man.”
Hannah finally reached twenty, and Jamison dropped his free hand. “I needed to come here, Don. It was important.”
“More important than your career?” Incredulity filled his friend’s voice, as if he couldn’t image what could top that. The thrill of the chase, the euphoria of landing the biggest, brightest account had been a rush beyond anything Jamison could imagine.
But he never could have imagined a woman like Rory. Making love to her, kissing her, hell, even making her smile made him happier than any client, any account ever had.
But he’d been a lawyer for years, and everything he felt for Rory was so new, so fragile. And hadn’t the personal relationships in his life taught him that nothing lasted? His feelings for Rory would fade, and he would need the comfort, the security of his career to fall back on. “I’ll be back on Monday,” he told Donnie.
His friend snorted. “Who knows how many accounts your competition will have brought in by then? Forget the promotion—you’ll be lucky to still have a job.”
Jamison opened his mouth to retort, but Donnie had hung up. As much as he loved modern technology, what he wouldn’t give for an old-fashioned phone he could slam back into its cradle right now. Instead, he dropped the cell into his pocket.
He wasn’t in danger of losing his job. Donnie was busting his balls with that comment. But the promotion... Yeah, he had a feeling he could kiss that goodbye.
You’re destined for bigger things, Jamison. Never forget that. Never settle for less when you can take more.
His mother’s words echoed through his thoughts as he ran a hand through his hair. He didn’t want to end up like her—grasping and grappling to hold on to something fleeting that had already passed him by. He’d worked hard for that partnership, dammit! He’d put in the long hours, the nights, the weekends. He’d given his all! He’d sacrificed—
He’d sacrificed his marriage just to be considered.
What would he be expected to sacrifice to win it all?
Reaching into his pocket, he powered down his phone.
“Hey, Hannah—” His shoes crunched on the loose gravel as he turned. “Are you ready—”
His words—his heart—stopped at the sight of the empty path behind him.
Chapter Fourteen
“Hannah!” He called her name, but this was no game of hide-and-seek with his daughter giggling, hardly out of sight, a few feet away. She was gone. “Hannah!”
He froze, unsure where to go, what to do...but then he knew.
Hannah had gone to find Rory.
He had to believe that, just like he had to believe he’d find the two of them together. He couldn’t bear to think anything else. The rose garden wasn’t far from the front entrance of the hotel, and he ran the distance in record time. His heart pounded in his ears so loudly he could barely hear the strains of a harp floating on the air. But that sound and the activity around the wedding had to have drawn Hannah to the one spot where Rory was sure to be.
She had to be there.
He stopped short as he rounded a curve, his shoes skidding beneath him. Two dozen people filled the white chairs lining the lawn, all focused on the couple standing beneath the delicate arched trellis. He scanned the crowd but didn’t see Rory. Didn’t see Hannah.
The bride’s tremulous voice barely carried to the back row. It was all Jamison could do to not hold his peace and to start calling out for his daughter...
“Psst, Daddy.”
At first, he thought he’d imaged the faint whisper blending in with the breeze rustling through the trees. That the sound had come from one of the guests, murmuring under their breath about the bride or her dress or the ceremony. But then he heard it again.
“Psst, Daddy! Over here!”
The call was louder this time, enough for a few heads in the back row to turn his way. Jamison paid them no attention as he scanned the garden off to his right, where he finally spotted golden curls amid the verdant green bushes and red roses.
“Hannah.”
Too relieved to have found her, Jamison didn’t care about making a scene as he wound his way through the fragrant bushes until he could crouch down at his daughter’s side and yank her into his arms. “Hannah, what are you doing? You know better than to go off without me!”
Her lower lip sticking out in a pout, she said, “I wanted to see Miss Rory’s wedding.”
“Hannah, this isn’t Rory’s wedding.”
“Uh-huh,” his daughter insisted. “See? She’s right over there.”
Jamison followed his daughter’s outstretched hand and spotted Rory standing off to the side. His breath caught at the sight of her—her hands clasped in front of her chest and a beaming smile on her face. No one was supposed to be more beautiful than a bride on her wedding day, but as far as Jamison was concerned, no woman was more beautiful than Rory—ever.
Her outfit—a pale yellow sweater and narrow cream-colored skirt—was a little more sedate and businesslike than the flowery dresses she usually wore, and her hair was caught back in a professional-looking bun. But nothing she wore could ever downplay how stunning she was, and that was only on the outside.
Her inner beauty—her kindness, her compassion, her caring—that would shine through even in the darkest moments. Wasn’t that why his first instinct when Hannah was missing was to run to Rory? Yes, he’d figured that Hannah had gone to find her, but even more than that, he had wanted to find Rory. To have her tell him that everything would be all right. To make it all better, the way she’d made everything in his life better.
And he couldn’t help wondering if he was only fooling himself. If his feelings for Rory were destined to fade, then why did they grow stronger every time they were together?
* * *
“You know, we’ve never had a Hillcrest House wedding crashed before.” Up until a minute ago, Rory wasn’t sure how she’d feel the next time she saw Jamison. She hadn’t imagined she’d be fighting laughter, but she found herself doing just that as she confronted the guilty-looking duo crouched at the back of the rose garden.
“Look, Daddy! It’s Miss Rory!”
“So I see.” His silver gaze swept over Rory with an intimacy and something...more that left her trembling in her sensible shoes. The wedding guests were focused on the bride and groom, but it still wouldn’t do for her to launch herself into Jamison’s arms in the middle of the ceremony. Even if she wanted to...
The soloist had started singing about the power of love, providing enough ambient noise for Rory to feel comfortable murmuring, “You’re not planning to rush the aisle when the pastor asks if anyone objects to this wedding, are you?”
“I wouldn’t be anywhere near this ceremony if a certain someone—” he landed a pointed gaze on his oblivious daughter “—hadn’t decided she wanted to come to your wedding.”
“My wedding?”
“That’s what she said.”
“So this is my fault?”
“Clearly. My daughter is obsessed.”
“With weddings?”
“I wish it were that simple.”
As much as Rory wanted to deny she was a complication in Jamison’s life, it was hard to do when his daughter scrambled over to take her hand. “Did you see the flower girl, Miss Rory?” Hannah asked. “She had a blue basket for her flowers and ribbons in her hair and she went like this!” Throwing out an arm, she exuberantly mimicked the other girl’s flower-tossing technique.
Raising an eyebrow, Jamison murmured, “Was she throwing rose petals or a ninety-five-mile-an-hour fastball?”
“You hush,” Rory scolded under h
er breath but with a smile. “I did see her, Hannah. But you don’t have to lurk in the bushes.”
“Are you sure?” Jamison asked. “As you pointed out, we aren’t guests.”
“You’re my guests. Wedding coordinator’s prerogative. Besides, it’s not like the bride and groom will notice.”
The young couple only had eyes for each other, and Rory led Jamison and Hannah closer in time for her favorite part.
“As long as we both shall live.”
The tall, thin pastor beamed as he announced, “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”
The guests burst into applause as the groom cupped his bride’s face and pressed his lips to hers in a kiss that was as much of a vow as the words he’d spoken.
It was a moment that would never get old, no matter how many weddings she witnessed, and one that never failed to bring tears to her eyes. The love, the hope, the promise of a future where two lives joined together as one... Her heart was filled with so much emotion, she couldn’t stop some of it from overflowing.
She was struggling somewhat blindly with the clasp on the tiny clutch hanging from her wrist when Jamison’s hand flashed in front of her face. Rory blinked, dislodging a tear or two, when she saw what he was holding out to her.
Snatching the tissue, she touched it to the corners of her eyes, trying not to do too much damage to her makeup. “Don’t make fun. I always cry at weddings.”
“Tears of joy that all the hard work is over?”
“No!” Her protest faded into laughter as she admitted, “Well, maybe. A little.”
“I’ve also started carrying wet wipes if you really feel the need to break down.”
“Hmm, those would have come in handy at the rodeo. Goes to show you’re learning.”
A muscle twitched in his jaw as he glanced down at his daughter. “She got away from me, Rory. I was on the phone. I swear I only turned away for a second, and when I looked back...”
She could only imagine the panic that must have raced like wildfire through Jamison’s veins. Hannah’s disappearance, even for a few minutes, must have taken him back to those long, agonizing months when his daughter had been gone and he’d had no idea when or if he’d see her again.
The Best Man Takes a Bride Page 16