“One of the best desserts I’ve ever had, Henri. A hint of French to soften the simplicity of Old English.”
Henri’s smile widened. “That is exactly what I was looking for! Old, new, French, English, American blended as one.”
“Henri, I know you’ve got other things to do this evening to get ready for tomorrow’s banquet. Thank you.” The inn manager motioned to a small table nearby. “If you would both sit here, I can go over the options with a pricing sheet, and then print up an actual price list for Captain McCarthy’s wedding if you book with us.”
By the time they’d finished, they had exactly ten minutes to get to the next appointment, a hillside vineyard and party house overlooking the southern end of the lake. Grant followed Emily there, parked next to her then accompanied her into the vineyard.
He knew it was wrong instantly. Too new, too garish, too many lights, not enough charm. When they’d finished the tasting and Emily cut them loose quickly, he knew she understood. They got to her car before she spoke. “Good call on that. First, you kept your opinion to yourself and that’s a favor to me because I have to work with these folks as long as I’m here, working at Kate & Company. Thank you for being discreet.”
As long as she was here? He leaned one hand against her car. “You’re welcome. I do have manners most of the time,” he told her. “What do you mean, as long as you’re here? Are you leaving?” he asked. “The correct answer would be no, because if you leave in the middle of these wedding plans, I’m toast.”
“I’ll be here to see Christa’s wedding through.” She opened the back door and tucked her notebook inside her bag before she turned back.
“But you’re not staying here? In Grace Haven?” It shouldn’t surprise him. Emily had big city written all over her.
She met his gaze frankly. “There aren’t a lot of jobs for clothing buyers in Grace Haven.”
He frowned. “But you have a job with Kate & Company.”
“Currently, yes. But once Dad’s on the mend, I think Kimberly can handle this with one hand tied behind her back. She’s an absolute whiz with event planning. My guess is she won’t need her little sister hanging around.” She tipped her gaze up to the crystal clear sky, then sighed with appreciation. “Doesn’t looking up at the vastness of the night sky just fill you with wonder? You don’t get views like this in the city.”
It didn’t fill him with wonder because he was too busy looking down, but he followed her gaze to the pinpoints of galactic sparkle and agreed. “Amazing.”
“Wondrous, right? Anyway.” She shrugged lightly. “Taking over Mom’s business is perfect for Kimberly. She’s spent her life grooming herself for this, and I’m not about to step on her toes. But in the meantime, I’m here to help so that Mom and Dad have no worries. Living at home gives me zero expenses, so I can plan my next steps. If I end up in a big city, the cost of living gets absolutely crazy.”
“I see.” He’d lived life with a discontented woman once. He’d dealt with the result, too, and he wasn’t about to take that risk again. “Well, I’m glad you’re here to guide me through the whole process.”
“Me, too.” The sincerity of her tone warmed him, and once again he was drawn, but she’d just cemented reasons to resist the attraction. He was staying. She was leaving. End of story. “Tomorrow we’ll stop at the Lodge at Fairhaven. They’re new, but they do a great job.”
“That’s where my cousin’s wedding was, wasn’t it?”
“You don’t remember?” She made a face as he swung her car door open. “It couldn’t have been all that good if you don’t remember it from last spring.”
“Dolly was sick.” He shrugged. “When you’re doing this stuff on your own and you get a sick kid, you opt out of the party and stay home.”
“My dad was like that, too. All about priorities.”
“Your father’s a good guy.” Grant lowered his voice, unsure how to approach the next subject. “I’m glad he’s doing better, but I was sorry to hear about the cancer. I lost my mom to breast cancer and I wasn’t ready to say goodbye.”
“Are we ever?” She stared up at the stars once more, then looked back at him. Her breath puffed a tiny cloud of frozen steam into the air until a breath of wind sent it dancing away. “I’m sorry you lost her. Is your dad still alive?”
“Don’t know. Don’t much care. He left when Christa was a baby. I barely remember him, so it’s like I never had a father. My mother never remarried—she said it was too risky with me and my sister. What if she married the wrong person? What if he was mean to us? So she wouldn’t let herself date or get interested in anyone until we were on our own, and by that time, she’d already had her first bout of cancer. She survived that one, but the second round, well...” He waited a moment to let the rise of emotion pass. “You know.”
“So being a good father is truly important to you.”
He stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets and gave a slow nod. “Yeah, of course. I didn’t have one so it’s not like I’ve got some great role model, but my mother was solid. I kind of do what she would have done except I’m more cautious, I don’t bake cookies and I’m a lousy cook. Happily, Dolly and Tim love PB&J, mac and cheese, and Oreos. With the occasional vegetable thrown in as long as it’s corn or squash.”
“They’re beautiful kids.”
They were, and because he was their only parent, he needed to have a plan, always. “Thank you. I’m real lucky to have them.”
She flashed him a look he couldn’t read, then nodded. “Kids are a blessing, for sure. Well.” She slipped into her car. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
He didn’t want to wait until tomorrow, but he wasn’t a rash man. He didn’t act on impulse. He couldn’t afford to, not now when two small children meant so much. He wasn’t about to make foolish mistakes to disrupt their lives. He stepped back, lifted his hand and nodded. “See you then.”
* * *
If ever a man needed some serious roadside repair, it was Grant McCarthy. Oh, she saw the good side of the guy. His devotion to his children, his strong work ethic, the sacrificial nature and his strong, rugged good looks. A man who saw what needed to be done and simply did it. Those were all wonderful qualities.
But Emily had learned one thing during her years of pageants and contests. Judging was fine on stage, but in everyday life, judgmental people weren’t her style and the minute Grant McCarthy started talking about his father, red flags popped up.
Judge not, that ye be not judged.
She’d lived both sides of that wise verse. She was older now and wiser than the college-age contestant she’d been when Chris Barrister won her heart six years ago.
He’d tossed her aside when he grew tired of her, and she’d learned to be more cautious as a result. No one would ever get to treat her or her heart casually ever again.
But something about Grant spoke to her.
Was it because they’d both suffered through rough marriages? His wife dumped him. Her husband gave her the boot, albeit with a generous settlement, but the buyout didn’t heal the ache of knowing she wasn’t enough. No matter how hard she worked, how sweet or funny or kind she was, how good she looked, she hadn’t been enough to keep him happy for more than two years of marriage. Being let go from his father’s company simply underscored rampant opinion that she’d gotten the job through nothing more than looking good and being married to the boss’s son.
That galled her because she’d done a great job for Barrister’s, Inc., and the women’s department sales figures had increased dramatically