Corie’s eyes widened. “I haven’t seen it. And, anyway, would he want an invasion of fifty?”
“It’s gorgeous,” Cassie said feelingly, remembering the comfort she’d felt in it last night, despite his mother’s dislike of her. She loved the lodge-like atmosphere, the log walls, the standing columns in the living room, the vaulted ceiling and the loft’s turned railing. She explained all that to her companions. “What would be more perfect around here than a wedding in the woods?”
Sarah looked enthused. “What do you think, Corie?” She turned to Cassie. “Since you’re right there on the spot, Cassie, would you be in charge of decorating?”
She frowned, as though having second thoughts. “Shouldn’t we ask Grady first?”
“Ask me what?” Grady, Ben, Jack and Gary, Ben’s father and Jack’s adopted father, grouped together at the other end of the table, had been talking architectural restoration. Construction was Gary’s business and restoration was Jack’s. Grady, leaned around Jack to find out what was happening.
He looked from woman to woman, his expression growing more concerned as their smiles widened. “What?” he asked warily.
“Can we have our wedding at your house?” Corie asked him with a little trepidation. “The church and every other venue in town is booked for New Year’s Day.” When he stared at her in surprise, she added, “Cassie says it’s gorgeous.”
His eyes went to Cassie, who met them with a smile in hers. “Well, it is,” she insisted. “Can they?”
“Ah...sure.” At the resultant cheers and applause, he added quickly, “But it’s just a log house. Pretty basic. No frills and fussy stuff. Only two bathrooms.” He turned to Ben. “Aren’t weddings all about frills and fussy stuff?”
Ben shrugged. “Don’t know. Never had one before.”
“They’re not.” Sarah placed her notebook on the table and her pen at an angle on top of it. “They’re about having a cozy place where the wedding couple can surround themselves with family and friends and really enjoy the day. After all, they’re promising to spend their lives with the person they love the most, come hell or high water. We can bring in a few Porta Potties.”
There was a moment’s silence when she’d finished. Then Soren asked Ben, “Hell or high water? What does that mean?”
“It means if you have bad times, you’ll still stay together.”
“Oh. But, hell? I mean, if you go to hell, you’re already dead, right?”
“Sometimes things can feel so bad,” Corie said, “that it’s like hell has come to you while you’re still alive. But you know that you’ll get over it if you stay with the people you love.”
“And high water is like a flood,” Rosie put in, always sure of what she knew. “Because people get really discouraged when a flood comes and gets their house all messy. But if they clean up together, it’s not so hard.”
Sarah nodded. “I couldn’t have said it better.” She smiled across the table at Grady. “What do you think?”
“Wouldn’t you like to see it first?” he asked.
“It is a beautiful place,” Ben said. “Of course, I’ve mostly played poker there and not paid attention to how ‘gorgeous’ it is.” He emphasized Cassie’s word. “But, maybe you should see it first, Corie.”
“I’d like to,” Corie said. “But if it’s gorgeous to Cassie, who’s seen some of the world’s most gorgeous places, then I don’t think there’s any question.”
Grady cast a glance at Cassie that she couldn’t quite read. But she guessed it suggested payback later. “Good,” he said. “We’ll go after lunch.”
Before they left the restaurant, Helen volunteered to be in charge of food for the reception.
“Perfect,” Sarah said. “And we can all help with that. Can you make that sausage and pasta casserole Ben and Jack love so much?”
“Of course. I’ll put a menu together and we can all go over it and add or subtract.”
“Great. I’ll get invitations out by email and phone and, together, Cassie and I can arrange for flowers.”
The major questions answered, Sarah closed her book and set it aside again just in time for the arrival of lunch.
* * *
“I DIDN’T CLEAN up the breakfast dishes,” Cassie whispered to Grady as they walked out to the car. The family had split into the groups that had ridden together.
“I did.” He aimed the key fob at the truck to open the doors.
“We can make coffee, but do you have milk for the kids?”
He pulled open her door and replied with what sounded like slightly strained good humor. “No. But had I known eight people were coming back with us, and that you were going to volunteer me to host a wedding, I’d have tried to be better prepared.”
She stopped before slipping onto the passenger seat and tried to analyze the look in his eyes. “Are you angry?”
“I’m never angry,” he replied. “But I’m not crazy about surprises, particularly those that involve something like a wedding.”
“It’s for your best friend in the whole world. You said you were as close as brothers.” She added with a small smile, hoping to rid him of that remote expression, “And that it made you and I almost related. So, I’m sorry I mentioned it without asking you first, but we’re family, so to speak. That’s what you said.”
* * *
SHE WAS WORKING HIM. That was an unusual experience, and he couldn’t help the inclination to let the moment stretch to see how far she’d go. Celeste had never bothered with feminine wiles; she’d either planned things her way without explanation or apology, or she’d simply ignored what he’d wanted to do. This blatant attempt to manipulate had a certain charm.
“I know what I said,” he replied, having a little trouble keeping a smile off his face, but he felt it was important that he try. “But it is my home. You might have consulted me first. It was hard to say no with your entire family waiting for an answer.”
“Did you want to say no?”
He had to answer honestly. “No. If you don’t get in the truck, they’re all going to get there before us.”
She grinned as she stepped up gracefully. “I doubt they’ll break in.”
He pushed the door closed, walked around the hood and climbed in behind the wheel. He didn’t want to notice that the new yellow sweater gave her a golden look, and that her scent made the truck smell like a flower shop.
Everyone was standing around, looking up at Grady’s house, when he and Cassie arrived. He pulled onto the grass beyond the driveway so their guests would be able to back out again.
They were all smiling. He took a good look himself, trying to see it with new eyes without considering what it meant to him on a personal level. It looked large and strong, simply constructed, tall firs gathered along the sides, a shelter in the mysterious woods. The property opened onto a deep meadow in the back for about a hundred yards, then the forest closed in. It was the last place he’d have thought of to have Ben and Corie’s wedding.
He unlocked and threw his door open, holding it to let everyone pass through.
He followed them into the great room, where Sarah, Corie and Helen stood in the middle and looked around.
“Isn’t it magnificent?” Cassie asked. “I mean, imagine what we can do. What if we got a few floor chandeliers to make a walkway for the bride, then, maybe, a hanging one right above where you’ll exchange vows?” She moved forward to stand under the loft railing. “Maybe about here. Then tulle or something gathered like bunting on the railing and down the stairs. And we can trim everything with flowers.”
Corie clasped her hands beneath her chin. The warrior woman who’d done so much to save her foster mother’s home and the children in it now looked younger and less troubled than he’d ever seen her in the few weeks he’d known her.
“Oh, Grady,” she said on a whisper. Had he wanted to resist hosting the wedding, the tone of her voice would have changed his mind. When Ben went to stand behind her and put his arms around her, both of them looking around delightedly, he knew it had to be the best wedding ever held in a log home. With noble self-sacrifice, he accepted that he was probably going to hate the process but he’d do his part to make it perfect for them.
He leaned toward them. “It rents for a thousand a night, a couple hundred more if you want chairs and whatever those chandelier things are Cassie talked about.”
Cassie turned to smack his arm. “Stop it,” she said. “Standing chandeliers. Instead of hanging from the ceiling, they’re on a stand. It’ll be so beautiful.”
“Where are you going to get all this stuff?”
She gave him a superior smile. “I have connections. I can have it all here in two days. I’ll make the calls tonight, and it’ll all be delivered the day after tomorrow, One-Day Air being more like two days from Europe.”
Corie turned to her with a pleat between her eyebrows. “Cassie, it doesn’t have to be extravagant. I don’t want you to go through all that tr—”
“It’s no trouble.” Cassie cut her off as Sarah closed in to put an arm around her shoulders. “Let me do this for you. Since Grady’s in agreement, we’ll make it memorable. I mean, how many times does a woman get married?”
“Three. Four,” Grady answered without making eye contact.
This time Helen swatted his arm. “Once, if you’re as much in love as Ben and Corie.” Then she tucked her hand in his arm and hugged it. “Oh, Grady, this is going to be wonderful. It’s so nice of you to offer your home.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to remind her that he hadn’t been the one to make the offer, but he loved Helen and this wasn’t the moment for any more jokes. The Manning-Palmer family seemed to be in a sort of wedding reverie, still looking around the great room and envisioning something he couldn’t see.
He patted Helen’s hand. “Happy to do it.” He sent a glance Cassie’s way, wondering if she could, indeed, do all she claimed she could. He hoped so. He now seemed to be in partnership with her in this whole dreams-come-true, happily-ever-after fantasy.
Sarah put his concerns into words, but not in quite the way he’d have framed them. She was clearly willing to believe. “I can’t wait to see how you pull this off,” she said, giving Cassie’s shoulders a squeeze. “Wow. What a holiday. What a reunion!”
“Should we get together tomorrow to make sure we’re on track?” Helen asked. “I’m a little worried about the flowers. Our flower shop is small and...”
“I can get those, too,” Cassie said. She seemed to have a sudden surge of internal power because her eyes were brighter and her cheeks were glowing. “Just decide what you want, Corie, and let me know. Sometime tomorrow for sure. We can have them sent to your florist and ask her to work with us.”
The women stared at her openmouthed. She brushed away their shock with a casual backhanded gesture. “It’s fine,” she said. “The whole world of modeling revolves around glamorizing products and people and sites. We’ll make it happen. But, what do you want to do for music?”
“What?” Grady asked. “You can’t get the London Philharmonic? Or Beyoncé?”
She sent him a scolding look, but before she could reply Ben said, “Why don’t we ask the Wild Men?”
Cassie frowned, clearly fearing for the plan. “Who?”
While the rest of the family applauded the idea, Grady explained. “It’s a singing group Jack and Ben belonged to as teenagers. They all went to school together. They recently did a fund-raiser talent-show thing here and brought the house down.”
She smiled and expelled a breath. “Great. Can you ask them?”
“Yes.” He grinned. “I’m sure they’ll love to do it.”
CHAPTER FIVE
GRADY AND CASSIE stood side by side in the doorway, smiling and waving as the family left. The moment they were out of sight, she turned to him. “Thank you for agreeing to do this. I apologize that I didn’t ask first. But, Corie seems to love the idea, and that’s very important to me.”
“Sure,” he said, following her into the foyer and closing the door. “I hate this sort of thing, but I’ll do it for Ben.”
She looked at him over her shoulder on her way into the kitchen, an eyebrow raised. “What sort of thing? Weddings?”
“Fuss,” he replied, opening the dishwasher door while she filled the sink with water and added soap. “All that glamour that trips us in to an unreal place.”
She tried to justify her feelings about it. “I haven’t seen my sister since I was a toddler, and she’s been through so much. I can help make this wedding beautiful for her, and I’d like to do that. Glamour isn’t about pretensions. It’s just giving your best attention to the moment because it’s important.”
With the tray in the dishwasher only half-full, he pushed it in and closed the door. He carried the frying pan she’d used that morning and placed it on the counter beside her. He smiled, but his blue eyes were judgmental.
“Then I guess you should, but I doubt that she needs you to turn her wedding into something that would be held at Notre-Dame Cathedral. She just needs you to be her sister—and in this case, her maid of honor.”
“If you recall,” she said, dropping the skillet into the sudsy water, “I was photographed abusing a deaf woman and having a meltdown the world saw on television. I’d like her to remember me for something else.” She plunged her hand into the water and turned her back on him.
He came to stand beside her and lean back against the counter while she worked. “Is that what all this extravagance is about? You’re trying to make up for the Ireland thing?”
“No!” She gestured with a soapy hand and accidentally flung suds onto his cheek. She gasped in apology and brushed the suds from his cheekbone with a dish towel. “No, it’s not about that. It’s a wedding. They should all be beautiful, but I have the ability to make it absolutely fabulous.”
“That’s not going to make the marriage last any longer.”
Now she was tempted to throw suds at him deliberately, but she drew a breath instead. “Of course it won’t. But it’ll enrich the moment and go just a little way to paying Corie back for all the hard times she’s endured. Don’t you believe in weddings?”
“I believe in marriage,” he insisted. “Just not weddings that make us believe the more money we pour into things, the more fuss we make, the better it’ll be.”
Another dark look. “It isn’t going to cost you a dime.”
“I’m not worried about that. I just hate the...the...”
“The fuss. I know. You’ve said that a couple of times.” She pulled the pan out of the sink and rinsed it under hot water. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep it under control.”
He sighed heavily and took the pan from her. She wondered if he feared for his safety. “Let’s just call a truce and try to coexist in harmony until after the wedding. Okay?”
She grinned at him. “Afraid of me, aren’t you?”
He grinned back. “Little bit,” he admitted.
Later, once she was dressed more comfortably in a hooded red sweatshirt pulled over her jeans, she sat in the middle of her bed, making notes.
Castle Props in London had the floor chandeliers she needed, and the one that would hang from the loft. They promised to ship them tonight for either late delivery tomorrow or the morning of the following day.
For tulle and ribbon, she called Louise, a seamstress for Josie Bergerac, her favorite Paris designer.
“You’re getting married?” Louise asked excitedly.
“No, my sister is,” she replied, and heard the sigh of disappointment. “I need yards of tulle and Caribbean-blue ribbon. Can you help me?”
> “Of course. How many yards?”
“Forty?”
An exclamation of amazement crossed the Atlantic. “Are you decorating Madison Square Garden?”
“Ha, ha. No, Lulu, but a pretty large living room in a log home. It’s going to look spectacular.”
“I’ll send it in the morning. Cassiopeia?” Louise used the name the fashion press had given her early in her career.
“Yes?”
“I believe it’s the tradition in romance novels for the maid of honor to run off with the best man.”
“Believe it or not,” Cassie said, “I’ve already done that. Actually, he’s one of the groomsmen. And he helped me leave Texas when the paparazzi descended.”
“Texas?”
“It’s a long story. The log home is his. But I’m afraid we’re not the stuff of romance novels.”
“Well, that’s disappointing.”
She had no idea.
“This will ship in the morning,” Louise promised.
“You’re a doll, Lulu.”
* * *
MELANIE STORM, THE REALTOR, was short and plump, with dark hair in a short, feathery cut. She had freckles in abundance, cocoa-colored eyes and a gamine face that, along with her height, made it a little hard to take her seriously. Her services had been a gift to Grady and Ben from Jack and Sarah as congratulations for starting their PI business.
When she began to take Grady around to locations she thought might be appropriate, he forgot that she was short and freckled. She knew every detail of every location, and suggested some pros and cons he wouldn’t have thought about.
By the fourth location, an office space in the same building as the Bay Bistro, he admired her style.
“This is a little smaller than the other places we’ve looked at, but there are two offices, two restrooms, a small area that would be a waiting room, and a small kitchen. Rent’s a little higher, but it’s recently been re-carpeted. I know everyone’s doing hardwood floors now, but in the kind of business you’re going into, warmth and quiet are good things. The building has Wi-Fi, but I suppose by the nature of detective work, you’ll want your own system. Here we are.” They stepped off the elevator and he couldn’t help remembering his earlier experience that day with Cassie, and the serious fear in her eyes.
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