by Mary Leo
Zoe thought he’d probably heard all the rumors swirling around about her business and she wanted to jump in and defend herself, but Carson suddenly woke up before she had the chance.
“And just what is everybody saying?” Carson asked while leaning on the bar. “Like you said, I’ve been holed up for a while and haven’t been privy to much town gossip.”
Milo’s gaze went to Zoe. “Sorry, I just assumed you knew, I mean... What can I get you guys?”
“A cold one in a long neck,” Carson told him, his gaze now focused on Zoe.
“Make that two,” she told Milo, who went off to retrieve the beers looking as if he was happy to get as far away as possible.
Carson adjusted his stool to face Zoe, his eyes catching the twinkling lights that surrounded him; a warm smile creased his lips and Zoe’s heart raced.
Did he have to look so darn cute?
“So tell me, Zoe Smart, just what is it that everyone’s saying about you?”
Milo dropped off the beers and disappeared to the far end of the bar before the bottles settled on the napkins. Obviously, he wanted no part of the conversation.
Both Carson and Zoe took a long pull from their beers while she decided on whether or not to tell him about the nasty yet somewhat true rumors swirling around her business. She wished she could confide in him like a friend, but she didn’t know him well enough for that. As it was, she barely knew him at all, and the longer they spent time together, she realized the man was a closed book. Sure, she was attracted to him physically. There weren’t too many healthy, heterosexual women over sixteen who wouldn’t be. Unfortunately, not only was he getting married in three weeks, he wasn’t very chatty, a trait Zoe liked in a man.
But there he was, Mr. Oh-So-Cool-Cowboy and local hero waiting for her reply. She decided she’d keep it simple and get right to the point.
“It all started when you drove away from St. Paul’s with your sister Kayla, the beautiful bride, sitting in the backseat of your SUV, crying over deserting her fiancé on their wedding day.”
He took another long pull on his beer, then ordered two more from Milo, who barely looked their way.
“What started?” Carson appeared to be completely unaware of the rumors, a difficult state to be in while living in Briggs. Everyone seemed to know everyone’s business.
“This whole thing about We Do I Do’s being jinxed.”
He chuckled. “Jinxed? How on earth did this town come to that decision?” He finished off his beer and started on the second one that Milo had quickly dropped off.
Zoe downed the rest of her beer, discreetly burped, excused herself and started on her second bottle. She knew she was a lightweight and had to curb her intake, but the first one went down so easy, she couldn’t stop herself.
She leaned on the bar, turned to Carson, looked into those beautiful eyes of his and decided to come clean. “Kayla wasn’t my only bride who bolted. I had another runner over in Jackson, and recently two couples cancelled and took their business to my competitor in Idaho Falls. If it wasn’t for your wedding, I’d be begging Amanda for a job at the bakery. As it stands right now, if you back out of this wedding, I’m thinking I’ll have to close up shop and go back to work for my parents in Boise at their law firm. Something my parents always wanted. The folks in this town love a happy ending, and if they can’t get one, they think whoever stopped it must somehow be jinxed.”
“You won’t have to do that. I promise. My wedding will go off without a hitch,” Carson told her, then he caught Milo’s attention and ordered two more beers. She suddenly had a strange feeling there was something he wasn’t telling her, but she wasn’t in the mood to push it. In fact, all she was in the mood for was keeping Carson looking her way so she could get lost in those blue eyes of his while she still had the chance.
Chapter Three
Zoe opened her eyes with a start. She’d been dreaming about a sleigh ride with Milo Gump and Carson and a bunch of other people she didn’t quite recognize. They were all singing “Jingle Bells” as they glided over the snow, laughing all the way.
The tune raged through her memory as she quickly sat up, which was not a particularly good idea. Her head throbbed with the quick movement as she slowly leaned back down and carefully rested on the unfamiliar feel of the soft pillow that now caressed her aching head. As she stared up at the ceiling at a small picture of...something she couldn’t quite make out, a fuzzy creature of some kind. A bear, maybe, or a big brown dog. When she twisted her head at just the right angle, she could make out Chewbacca from Star Wars, and the realization hit her: she was not in her own bed.
Then, as if she’d pressed a rewind button in her mind, the previous night came rushing in and she immediately slid her hands over her body to feel for her underwear, which thankfully she was still wearing along with her bra and the gray cotton camisole she’d slipped on yesterday morning before she’d left to meet Carson Grant at Holy Rollers.
“Carson Grant,” she said out loud and pulled the covers up over her body to just under her chin. She’d been in the sleigh with Carson Grant and they’d ended up at his house, and she’d ended up in his bed...seemingly alone.
Just then the bedroom door swung open. “Yes? Did you need something?” Carson asked, wearing one of those sleeveless men’s white tees and black pj bottoms that dusted the floor. He looked better than a man had the right to look. He grinned over at her while he held a mug in his hand that sent steam up in a thin mist.
“Do you have any more of what’s in that mug?” Zoe asked without wanting to think about the situation. She desperately needed caffeine before she could even begin to consider the awkward circumstances she now found herself in.
“It’s tea. And yes, I just made a pot. Can I bring you a cup?”
“Yes... No, I’ll come out there and get it.”
“I was just getting ready to cook up a mess of scrambled eggs. Would you like some? Nothing fancy—eggs, cheese, some bacon and maybe a tomato or two.”
The thought of food made her mouth water and her stomach growl. She hadn’t eaten since the cake samples at Holy Rollers. She’d do almost anything for a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon... Well, almost anything.
If she could think clearly, she would reject breakfast, pick up all her things and get out of there as fast as her feet could carry her, but at the moment, the mere idea of moving intensified the pain in her already-pounding head. Going much farther than the kitchen without food and caffeine seemed completely impossible.
“I’d kill for caffeine and eggs.”
“Now you’re talking. It’ll be on the table whenever you’re ready. The bathroom’s right in front of you. I put out some clean towels next to the shower. Take your time.” He grinned. “You feeling all right?”
“Why, shouldn’t I be?”
He shrugged. “Just making sure all those beers you drank didn’t leave you feeling a little...under the weather.”
She pushed herself up, slowly, while holding on to the covers. “I’m absolutely fine.”
His grin spread a little wider. “There’s some water on the nightstand next to you if you’re thirsty.”
“Thanks,” she told him, knowing perfectly well that water was exactly what she needed for her “under the weather” condition.
“I’ll just go whip up those eggs, then,” he said and left, gently closing the door behind him.
Zoe reached over, poured a large glass of water from the cool metal pitcher and drank it down without taking a breath. Then she poured another and drank that one down, as well.
When she finally pulled herself out of bed, she padded across the wooden floor to the bathroom and caught her reflection in the mirror.
A gasp caught in her throat.
She looked about as horrible as she possibly could and considered escap
ing out the bathroom window. If she never saw Carson Grant again, that would be fine by her. Not only had her black mascara smeared under her eyes, but she’d worn red lipstick yesterday that now covered her chin and left cheek. Her chin and cheek matched the color of her hair, which was a tangled mess mostly on top of her head. Her hair had a natural curl to it, and if she didn’t use a straightening hot comb on it every morning, it reverted back to its natural, unruly state. Being a redhead made her stand out enough, but being a redhead with curly hair made it almost impossible for her to be taken seriously.
She still wore the hair band she had pulled her hair back with the previous night, but it was now perched in the center of her head, with half of her knotted hair still caught up inside it, and the rest cascading in curls around her face at all angles. She looked like a sad, mentally disturbed clown.
Not only had Carson seen her more than a little drunk from too many beers, but now he’d seen her the morning after. And there were still parts of the evening she didn’t want to remember, like how she’d ended up in his bed without most of her clothes. Did he really help her remove them or was that little episode part of her dream? Either way, why wasn’t she in her own bedroom instead of his? She really had no idea how that had happened.
Or did that have something to do with all the snow that fell last night?
She didn’t know for certain and her head hurt too much to try to come up with the answers. Instead, Zoe turned on the water in the shower, felt for the right temperature, stripped naked, ripped the hair band out of her tangled hair and stepped under the soothing water hoping like hell there was no reason why Carson Grant and Marilyn Rose weren’t still getting married on Christmas Day.
Her reputation in this town depended on it.
* * *
IT HAD SNOWED all night long, and from the looks of what had accumulated on the walkways out in front of Carson’s house, he knew Sal and his snowblower would come knocking at any minute. He wanted some alone time with Zoe. He’d gotten up early and made a few calls to her ex-clients trying to woo them back to her company, but he couldn’t get any takers, at least not yet. Everything she and Milo had told him last night was right on the money. Anyone planning a wedding anywhere in or around this valley had heard that We Do I Do’s was jinxed.
And even worse, he’d heard that another of Zoe’s former clients had filed for a legal separation just last week. He doubted Zoe even knew about that one yet. His sister Kenzie had told him all about it when she’d called earlier to make sure he’d be over for dinner to celebrate his dad’s birthday. He had promised to be there despite the growing knot in his stomach.
He knew once he saw his family, he’d have to tell them the truth, and the truth would only add more fuel to Zoe’s “jinxed” fire. He hated that her future as an independent businesswoman rested on his dubious shoulders. Thus the reason for all his phone calls that morning. If he could just get her another wedding to plan, he’d be off the hook.
Of course, that still wouldn’t lift the perceived curse off her company, but maybe if he could get two or three couples...a hope at best. Everyone he’d spoken to seemed almost afraid to do business with Zoe Smart, as if merely talking to her could put a hex on their marital future.
The rumors were much worse than he had expected.
Carson decided that before he put the last nail in We Do I Do’s coffin, he wanted to hear directly from Zoe what this company actually meant to her, and if she was willing to diversify. She’d told him a little about how she felt about it the previous night at Belly Up, but after three beers she stopped making sense. Then it got too loud in there, and before she sobered up again, Travis Granger, younger brother to Doc Blake, offered a ride home in his bright red Santa sleigh pulled by two magnificent Clydesdales. Zoe couldn’t resist, and they must have spent two hours inside that sleigh picking up and dropping off stranded people all over town.
After Zoe had dozed off, he thought it might be easier to bring her home with him rather than to try to make it clear across town again in the sleigh. In all actuality, there was so much snow out there now, that he doubted she’d be able to get home for several more hours. Even Sal’s snowblower might not be able to clear it off the sidewalks. He was thinking that he might have to invest in a higher grade blower for Sal when he heard the bedroom door open.
Zoe emerged looking better than he’d ever seen her. Her wet hair had been pulled back with a clip, with those lovely red curls cascading down her back. He didn’t know why she didn’t just let her hair fall free around that beautiful face of hers, which was now clean from any makeup except a light lip gloss. She was completely dressed in the clothes she’d worn the previous day, tight jeans and a dark gray sweater. She carried her black bag over her shoulder, and if she’d had her boots on, instead of walking around in her lovely bare feet, she would look as if she was ready to walk right out his front door.
Carson had no intentions of letting her do that. Besides, with all that snow out there, and her vehicle parked at Belly Up, it would take a good hour to drive her back to her car.
“Eggs will be ready in a couple minutes. Teapot is on the counter under the cozy. Cups and everything you might need are also on the counter. Sorry, I don’t own a table, but the counter works just fine. There’s some fresh fruit in the blue bowl, plain yogurt in the container and granola in the glass canister. Help yourself.”
“Thanks,” she said with a sheepish grin.
He knew enough from growing up with four sisters that Zoe was probably feeling a little embarrassed about him seeing her morning-after face, and even though he thought she’d looked adorable with her tousled hair and makeup-smeared eyes, she would need some time to recover. “Sorry I opened your door this morning, but I heard you call my name.”
“Um...yes, I...um...I hope I’m not prying, but why do you have a picture of Chewbacca taped to your ceiling?”
“Gives me something to focus on when I first open my eyes in the morning.”
He’d actually taped it up there just yesterday, thinking he’d see if waking up to something other than a white ceiling made a difference with his mental state. He never assumed in a million years the first person to see it would be Zoe Smart.
“Kind of a small picture. I could barely make it out.”
“It was my first attempt since I was a teen.”
“Why Chewbacca?”
“A warrior of few words. He was always my favorite character. For three years running, I dressed like him for Halloween. I finally grew too big for the costume and couldn’t replace it. I think that was the first year I didn’t go trick-or-treating. I was ten and cried for an entire day.”
She took a seat at the counter on a wooden bar stool, grabbed a fancy blue teacup and saucer, and filled the cup with brewed Darjeeling tea, his favorite. “I taped a magazine photo of Shania Twain to my ceiling when I was thirteen. I wanted to look just like her. Even dyed my hair dark brown, and my best friend’s older sister, who was in beauty school, styled it exactly like Shania’s. My parents had a fit and made me dye it back. I didn’t talk to them for an entire week after that.”
“Your hair kind of had that blown look to it just this morning,” Carson said, trying for more levity in the conversation. She’d been a different person the previous night when he insisted that she take his bedroom, full of giggles and seduction. It had taken every moral fiber within him not to join her in that bed last night, but he knew it would have been a big mistake. For one thing, he never took advantage of a woman who’d had too much to drink, and for another, she was his wedding planner.
As it stood now, he never would have offered his house or his bedroom in the first place, but Mandy from his cleaning service had come by that afternoon to do her thing. If it wasn’t for her and the physical therapist he saw once a week, he’d live in a cluttered hovel and still might not be able to use his leg.
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br /> When he turned to take the eggs out of the pan and plate them, a piece of fruit hit him on the side of the head. He ducked as Zoe giggled. He was pleased he’d lightened her mood.
“It was a rough night,” she said, but he could tell she still had something on her mind or perhaps it was beer fog still clouding her thoughts.
“Not used to drinking that much?”
She took a bite of the eggs and smiled as if she liked them. Then she ate more. He was pleased she enjoyed his food. Marilyn Rose never cared for anything he cooked. Another reason why he wasn’t going to try to get her back. He’d made that decision sometime during the evening with Zoe. He’d had enough of self-absorbed women. If he was ever going to fall in love again, it would be with someone like Zoe Smart, a woman who enjoyed his eggs.
“Not used to drinking at all.” She took an uneasy breath. “How...did I, um... Were we... Did we, um...”
Carson plated eggs and bacon for himself. “Too much snow for Travis to take us both home, so you ended up having to stay here. I gave you my bedroom, and I took the sofa. Does that answer your question?”
She exhaled and her entire body seemed to relax. He didn’t know exactly how to take her reaction to learning they hadn’t slept together, considering his growing attraction to her, but decided it was probably the right response under the circumstances.
“Yes. I’m guessing this means the wedding is still on for Christmas Day?”
He was about to tell her the truth when an idea popped into his head that might lessen the blow. “Yep, but right now I have something equally as important to plan. I’ve decided to throw a surprise birthday party for my dad here at my house. I haven’t been very social with my family lately. It’s kind of like if they can’t bring the mule-headed brother to the mountain...”