SATURDAY MORNING Wyatt didn’t wait until Missy was ready to leave to get dressed to help deliver her cake. She hadn’t yet hired an assistant. She’d put an ad in the papers for the nearby cities, and a few responses had trickled in. But she wasn’t about to jump into anything. She wanted time for interviews and to check references.
He couldn’t argue with that. Which meant he’d need to help her with that week’s wedding.
So Friday he’d bought new clothes, telling himself he was tired of looking like a grunge rocker. Saturday morning, after his shower, he had black trousers, a white shirt and black-and-white print tie to put on before he ambled to her house. As had become his practice, he knocked twice and walked in.
Then stopped.
Wearing an orange-and-white-flowered strapless sundress, and with her hair done up in a fancy do that let curls fall along the back of her neck, she absolutely stopped his heart. In a bigger city, she would have been the “it” girl. In a little town like Newland, with nowhere to go but the grocery store or diner, and no reason to dress up, she sort of disappeared.
“You look amazing.” He couldn’t help it; the words tumbled out of their own volition.
She smiled sheepishly. “Would you believe this is an old work dress? Without the little white jacket, it’s perfect for a garden wedding.”
He looked her up and down once again, his heart pitterpattering. “I should get a job at that law firm if everyone looks that good.”
Because he’d flustered her, and was having a bit of trouble keeping his eyes off her, he searched for a change of subject. Glancing around her kitchen, he noticed the five layers of cake sitting in a row on her counter. Oddly shaped and with what looked to be steel beams trimming the edges, it wasn’t her most attractive creation.
“Is the bride a construction worker?”
“That’s the Eiffel Tower.” Missy laughed. “The groom proposed there.”
“Oh.” Wyatt took a closer look. “Interesting.”
“It is to them.”
Owen skipped into the room. “Hey, Wyatt.”
“Hey, kid.” He faced Missy, asking, “When’s Nancy get here?” But his heart sped up again just from looking at her. She had the kind of legs that were made to be shown off, and the dress handled that nicely. Nipped in at the waist, it also accented her taut middle. The dip of the bodice showed just enough cleavage to make his mouth water.
And he thought he looked nice. She put him and his white shirt and black trousers to shame—even with a tie.
“She should be here in about ten minutes. If you help me load up, we can get on the road as soon as she arrives.”
Making several trips, Missy and Wyatt put the layers of cake into the back of her new van. Together they carried the bottom layer, which had little people and trees painted on the side, mimicking street level around Paris’s most famous landmark.
“Cute.”
“It is cute. To the bride and groom.” She grinned. “And it’s banana walnut with almond filling.”
He groaned. “I’ll bet that’s delicious.”
Sixteen-year-old Nancy walked up the drive. Her dark hair had been pulled into a ponytail. In a pair of shorts and oversize T-shirt, she was obviously ready to play.
“Hi, Missy. Wyatt.”
The kids came barreling out. She scooped them into her arms. “What first? Cartoons or sandbox?”
Owen said, “Sandbox.”
The girls whined. But Nancy held her ground. “Owen has to get the chance to pick every once in a while.”
After a flurry of goodbyes and a minute for Missy to find her purse, she and Wyatt boarded the van. He glanced around with approval. “So much better than the SUV.”
“I know.”
She started the engine and pulled out of the driveway onto the street. In a few minutes they were on the highway.
She peeked over at him. “So…you look different. Very handsome.”
Her compliment caused his chest to swell with pride. He’d had hundreds of women come on to him since he’d become rich, but none of their compliments affected him as Missy’s did. But that was wrong. They’d decided to be friends.
Pretending to be unaffected, he flipped his tie up and let it fall. “You know, I don’t even dress like this for my own job.”
“That’s because you’re the boss. Here I’m the boss.”
“You never told me you wanted me to dress better.”
“I think it was implied by the way everybody around you dressed. It’s called positive peer pressure.”
He chuckled, then sneaked a peek at her. Man. He’d never seen anybody prettier. Or happier. And what made it even better was knowing he’d played a part in her happiness. She wanted this business to succeed and it would. Because she’d let him help.
Pride shimmied through him, but so did his darned attraction again, stronger and more potent than it had been before she complimented him. But they’d already figured out they wanted two different things. The night before, she’d even offered to listen to his troubles. Smart enough not to want to get involved with him, she’d offered them the safe haven of friendship. He shouldn’t be thinking of her any way, except as a friend.
It took two hours to get to the country club where the reception was being held. The party room of the clubhouse had been decorated in green and ivory, colors that flowed out onto the huge deck. The banister swirled with green and ivory tulle, down stairs that led guests to a covered patio where tables and chairs had been arranged around two large buffet tables.
As they carried the cake into the clubhouse, Missy said, “Wedding was at noon. Lunch will be served around onethirty. Cake right after that, then we’re home.”
He snorted. “After a two-hour drive.”
“Now, don’t be huffy. Because we get home early, I’m making dinner and insisting you eat with us.”
“You are?”
“Yep. And I’m not even cooking something on the grill. I’m making real dinner.”
“Oh, sweetheart. You just said the magic words. Real dinner. You have no idea how hungry I am.”
She laughed. They put the cake together on a table set up in a cool, shaded section of the room. When the wedding guests arrived, however, no one came into the building or even climbed up to the deck. Instead, they gathered on the patio, choosing their lunch seats, getting drinks from the makeshift bar.
The bride and groom followed suit. On the sunny, beautiful May day, no one went any farther than the patio.
“One of two things has to happen here,” Missy said as she looked out the window onto the guests who were a floor below them. “Either we need to get people in here or we need to get the cake out there.”
He headed for the door. “I’ll go talk to somebody.”
She put her hand on his forearm to stop him. “I’ll go talk to somebody.”
She walked through the echoing room and onto the equally empty deck, down the stairs to the covered patio. Wyatt watched her look through the crowd and finally catch the attention of a tuxedo-clad guy.
She smiled at him and began talking. Even from a distance Wyatt saw the sparkle in her eyes, and his gaze narrowed in on the guy she was talking to. Tall, broadshouldered, with dark curly hair, he wasn’t bad looking… Oh, all right, he was good-looking, and was wearing a tux. Wyatt knew how women were about