21. Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-One
Beck
When Dallas opens the door, I have to grab the doorframe to keep from swaying at the sight of her.
I think I recover quickly enough to not totally embarrass myself. Well, almost, because I can’t stop the soft “Wow,” from escaping my lips.
The curls in her hair are glossy and her eyes are lined dark, which brings out the brilliant blue. Her lips are seashell pink, parting slightly as she takes the sight of me in, too. She smells incredible—there’s a rosy addition to her typically tropical scent.
She’s in a dark green, casual dress that hits just above her knees. The length accentuates her shapely legs. She’s not wearing her usual high heels. These are a very light tan, a shade or two darker than the color of her legs, and they have short heels.
“Wow to yourself,” she says with a smile and a brief flick of her eyes at me. I’m in my charcoal fitted suit, the one my mom insisted I get last year for my parents’ fortieth wedding anniversary celebration that they had at Montmoor Hotel in Wilmington.
The way Dallas is looking at me tells me she likes it.
How am I going to make it through this evening without kissing her? This is not a date, it’s a work event. I cannot kiss this woman tonight or any night.
But, boy, do I want to.
I extend my arm and she takes it. My other hand covers hers. It’s a simple move, but here I am, touching the top of her soft hand and feeling like I’ve never done anything so sweet, so intimate.
I help her into my pickup since she’s so short, grasping her waist. Yes, my hands linger for a second. On the drive over, we quickly revert to work mode, discussing the plan for the night and strategies we’d discussed. It was a little unnecessary to go over this early, but Dallas insisted, and now I’m glad we did. The more time with her, the better.
We hurry inside so we can dust and vacuum. Dallas helps me install a couple of remaining can lights in the hallway. We turn on the lights and add the flameless candles for the proper ambiance. The evening light is just sparkling enough across the water. The mansion smells a little like paint and as a construction guy, I have to say it’s to me like the scent of beef jerky to my golden retriever.
Within an hour, the mayor, her husband, her daughter Lila, Lila’s fiancé Ryan, and a few others from the city council arrive. We give them a tour of the main floor, answering questions, explaining the various phases of the project and how close we are to finishing all of them.
Dallas and I work seamlessly together, each of us offering insight into how the renovation has transpired and about the couples who’ve booked weddings here this summer.
The tour flows smoothly and the guests are complimentary about what they see.
I find myself relaxing, especially when Dallas catches my eye after the mayor’s husband gets particularly enthusiastic over the new hardwood floors, which my crew just finished installing the day before.
“It’s even better than I imagined, you two. Way to come together and make it all work,” Mayor Dobbs says, her gaze going from Dallas’s to mine.
Lila even gives both of us a hug before grabbing Ryan’s hand.
“I’m grateful to you both for making this happen. The wedding’s going to be a dream come true.” She meets Ryan’s gaze, and he kisses her temple.
“It’s perfect,” Ryan says.
After they’ve gone, we turn off the candles and lights and lock the door behind us. We linger on the front porch in the waning light. “One week until the Dobbs wedding,” I say, and I can’t disguise the thrill of excitement in my voice.
She gives a warm smile. “I finally feel like we might actually pull it off.”
I bump her shoulder with mine. “We will.”
“I still have my evil plan of converting the library upstairs into a bride’s room, though.”
“Really? I didn’t think that was going to work.”
She cocks her head to one side. “Why not, Beck? All the room needs is a deep clean, some nice curtains and chairs, baskets for storage, the podium, and mirrors.”
“See? It’s going to be hard to pull it off in time.”
She bites her bottom lip. “Saying all of it aloud makes me wonder if it’s too much, too. But I want to try.” Her hand squeezes my arm. “And before you say anything about the budget, just please know that I want to do this as my wedding gift for the happy couple. It won’t affect the budget at all, I promise.”
“I can’t let you do that.”
“Why not? It won’t cost that much. I’ve already been getting things from thrift stores. I ordered new drapes. That was my one splurge.” She clutches my arm. “You have got to see the drapes!”
“I’m sure I will. But when do you plan to be able to pull the room together? You have enough to do with the wedding itself.”
“I was hoping to still come here most evenings until then. It’s fine. I’m happy to. Lila and her mom are going to love it.”
“I’ll help as much as I can but…”
“Let me guess.” She smirks, her eyes narrowing. “Volleyball?”
“Some volleyball, yes. But one thing is that Prom is next Friday night. I’m letting Leo and some friends use the mansion for their dinner. They won’t be cooking there, just bringing the food in. I was thinking of it as something of a dry run before the wedding the next day.”
“That’s so cute. And it’s fine. I won’t be in their way. I’ll be upstairs in the library all that evening anyway.”
“I’ll be there, too, supervising just to make sure everything’s okay. I’m sure I can come upstairs off and on to help you.”
“I’ll probably need to use you for grunt work. I can see myself not being able to decide where to put the podium. That thing is kind of heavy and I’m not dragging it from one side of the room to the other by myself.”
I tug her close. “Sure thing. But is that all you’d need me for?”
She looks down at her intertwined fingers and she sways from side to side. “I’m sure I could think of other things, too.”
I pause. I do not want to take her home yet. “Want to get some food?”
“My stomach is practically eating itself right now, so the answer to that is yes.”
“Were you too busy to eat today?” I ask her.
“No.” She laughs and scrunches up her nose. “No, I ate plenty. I think the relief of Mayor s’s tour being over is making me feel half starved.”
“Well, then, let’s remedy that.” I rotate and step off the porch and she joins me on the sidewalk.
“What’s even open? Besides the grocery store deli? I know Willow Cove tends to shut down early.”
“Once the tourists are out in full force next week, things will stay open longer. You want to hit up Witty’s Diner? Or do the memories of the llama spit make that a no-go?”
She blanches and sends me a look. I chuckle. “Got it. I know of another place.”
Sullivan’s has the best hush puppies in the state, so we drive there, walking in just before it closes. I introduce Dallas to the owner, Laird, and apologize to him about arriving so late, but he says he doesn’t mind. We’re seated in the corner, having the entire place to ourselves.
She only takes a moment to look over the menu and orders the breakfast for dinner option.
“Add two orders of hush puppies to her order, and some chowder and sauteed carrots,” I say.
“Carrots?” she says with her brows in the air. “Thank you for adding some nutrients to my meal for me.”
“I’m not being noble. They’re cooked in butter. They melt in your mouth.”
“Can’t wait.” She leans in. “Give me all the butter.”
I order my meal and manage to turn the conversation around to work-related topics until the server brings out the food. As Dallas tucks into her waffles, I realize I really like watching her eat.
Great. Just when I’d managed to focus on the safe topic of work, I’m back to thinking about Dallas’s mouth.
“What?” She chews rapidly, swallows, and then grabs her napkin from her lap. “Do I have something on my face?” She rubs at her mouth with the napkin.
I bump out a laugh. “No, you don’t.” I can’t help but grow sober and before I say anything more, I take a sip of my drink.
Her lips twist to one side. She knows what I was thinking…or at least some version of it. She noticed I was staring at her. I’m both embarrassed and emboldened by the thought.
“Do you see yourself staying in Willow Cove a long time?” she asks.
I sigh and give a slow smile. “Yes, I do. My family’s all here and business is steady. More than steady. We’ve seen a lot of growth the last couple of years. Besides, I like the thought of raising my family where I was raised.”
She hesitates but smiles. “I like that. That stability is admirable.”
I can tell there’s something more on the tip of her tongue, but she keeps quiet.
“Tell me about Atlanta,” I say. “What do you love about it?”
“It’s home. Or rather, Duluth is.” She focuses her gaze on her food. “I love Shorty Hollow Park and the corn pudding from Smokejack. I don’t love the heat—my genes are more suited for tundra life in Greenland than Georgia. But I love the fall colors there. The people in the neighborhood where I grew up? You’ll never find anyone more hospitable and kind.”
“You looking forward to going back?” I dread her answer.
She hesitates. “Yes and no. I left under…less than ideal circumstances. So I’m anxious to get back and right the wrongs, you know? But I like it here, too.”
“Less than ideal circumstances? That sounds rough.”
She nods and takes a sip of her drink. “It was. Sort of this perfect storm where everything aligned to be pretty terrible all at once.” She perks a smile, one that I know took great effort. I wonder if she’s going to leave it at that, but then she continues.
“You remember Holden and McKenna?”
“How could I forget?” A flare of anger rises up inside of me.
“Well, they met at a family party I took Holden to. It was the first time I’d brought anyone to a family function before. McKenna was there.” She swallows hard, studying her waffle. “That was sort of the start for them. Holden broke up with me a couple weeks later and then I started hearing the rumors. First my aunt asked me how I’m holding up. I’m thinking she just meant about the breakup, but soon I discover she was pitying me for something else. That Holden and McKenna had already started dating.”
“That sucks.”
She laughs. “It did. But I think worse than the actual facts of it was that McKenna didn’t even tell me. She didn’t say a word about falling for him, because she was worried it would hurt my feelings. It would have, yes, but we’d been brutally honest with each other before and we survived. She was the one person in my family, the one person in my life, that I could tell everything to. I deserved to know the truth. Holden and I weren’t a great match, and he didn’t fit my life’s path, to be honest, so losing McKenna has hurt the worst.”
“Well, no wonder you needed a fresh start here in Willow Cove.”
“Oh, I’m not finished, Beck.” She smiles slightly, and there’s pain in her eyes. “There’s more to the story. I wouldn’t have left my job over a breakup.”
I frown. “Oh no. What else happened?”
She takes a bite of hush puppy and chews and swallows then tilts her head to one side. “A few days after I found out my ex and my cousin were suddenly hot and heavy, I had two weddings. I don’t normally do that, but these weddings were a big deal. Families of politicians and powerful businessmen. I couldn’t turn them down just because they were on the same day. Besides, I had Kaia, my assistant, and a team of people to help me, so it wasn’t going to be a big deal. I’ve managed to pull off two weddings on the same day before. Nothing this high profile, but still. It should have been fine. My team and I had been planning every last detail down to the minute. When we’d be where, who would get our most focused attention and when throughout the day. It was all planned out. Wedding A, the Clancys, and Wedding B, the Bozzellis. We color coordinated our calendar for that day and everything. They were the weddings of my career.”
She stops, tears pooling in her bright blue eyes. She blinks them away and shakes her head. “Beck, I mixed up the cakes. I sent them to the wrong wedding.” She meets my gaze. “I’ll never forget that feeling when I walked into wedding B’s reception venue and saw it. The bakery had delivered it and set it up and it was just sitting there…this gold and silver monstrosity at a pared down, vintage wedding reception in a courtyard. It stuck out like a sore thumb.” She shoots out a breath. “I made it right. I called the bakeries and had them switch the cakes back, but it took a couple of hours since it’s not an easy process. The mother of the bride of the Clancy wedding was supremely ticked off. I don’t want to say she made a scene…but she made a scene. And I deserved it. I don’t blame her for being angry. They delayed the reception start time because of it. It was a nightmare. I’d never done anything so stupid.”
I can feel the anguish she still has because of all of this. I reach for her hand, and she places it in mine. Squeezing it gently, I look into her eyes. “You were dealing with a lot at that moment.”
“Yes, but really, that’s no excuse,” she says. The lights from the front of the restaurant have turned off, leaving only the glowing circle from the candle on our table. “I’ve never blamed Holden and McKenna for it. It’s totally on me. But the mother of the bride from Wedding A? She reached out to the mother of the bride from Wedding B and convinced her to complain, too. Then, she got in touch with my boss, Shoshana, and threatened that if I wasn’t fired over this, she’d spread the word like wildfire, telling everyone our firm was incompetent. And trust me, she has enough pull in societal circles to do some real damage to the firm. They both do.”
“That’s not okay.”
She shrugs. “She was angry at my mistake. My boss said she didn’t want to let me go, but under the circumstances, her hands were tied. She strongly suggested I come work in Willow Cove for her college roommate, Martha , and then once things died down and I got some really stellar work under my belt again, she’d consider taking me back.”
“And that’s why you’re here.”
“I had other options. There were other wedding firms who’d reached out to me before that I could have contacted. But I couldn’t turn down that connection with Shoshana that the mayor has. Beck, my five-year plan ends with me taking over the firm for Shoshana.”
I knew she wanted to go back to Atlanta, but still, a buzz of sadness pumps through my blood. This needs to be about her right now, though. “Well, if you’re wanting to take over, it would make sense to do what she suggested.”
“My whole point in coming to Willow Cove was to do a great job, get a good reference, and get back to Atlanta. Back to Shoshana and Amore,” she says, massaging her forehead with her fingertips, her gaze on the table.
“I had a feeling about that.” I let out a slow breath. “I get it. It’s just that the more time I spend with you, the less willing I am to let you go.”
She meets my gaze. “I’m becoming less and less willing to leave.”
Her expression is so serious, so laser focused, that I believe her, the back of my neck breaking out in goose bumps.
“I’ve enjoyed it here a lot more than I thought I would. The locals are genuinely kind, and I love the way everybody seems to look out for each other. Plus, the brides and their families?” She gestures with her hands. “Best I’ve ever worked with. It’s like they have their priorities figured out. They’re excited about their wedding day, but they know it’s just the beginning of their life.” She takes a bite. Chews. Swallows. “And I like spending time with you, Beck.”
“I really like being around you, too,” I say. We eat in silence, and I’m trying to figure out how to convey to her how vital she’s become, not just to the Dobbs, but to me. What would it take to get her to stay?
She interrupts my thoughts with an ask I’m not prepared for. “Tell me about an embarrassing moment.”
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. I don’t have to think hard. “There’s a drawback to small towns. People don’t tend to forget when your fiancée moves away the week after you propose to her.” I take a long drink then set my glass down on the table. “Everyone kept looking at me like someone had died. They still do.”
She softly slaps a palm against her forehead. “That’s literally the worst.”
“I know. And then it morphed into sort of a joke. I would bring it up just so I could laugh about it, probably so that people didn’t know how much it hurt. And the more I laughed about it, the more everyone else did, and it snowballed from there. And now I’m the town…I don’t know…the town bachelor that works a lot and helps people with stuff and laughs and smiles through it all.”
Clicking her tongue, she gives me a sad smile. “Sorry that’s been happening. Sounds hard to break that cycle.”
“Chloe said one of the reasons it would never work out between us was because I didn’t want to see the world. She got a job working as a singer and dancer on a cruise ship. As far as I know, she’s still doing that.”
“She must be talented.”
I nod. “She is. Look. Chloe ending our engagement was the best thing to happen to me. I realized I don’t want a relationship like that. I want something real and down to earth. Something reciprocated.”
“I can’t imagine her not reciprocating. I mean—” she shrugs and looks at me through lowered lashes. “You’re a great guy.”
“Well, same with that jerk, Holden. How could he not see he was letting go of someone special?”
“My cousin does have the exotic going for her, though. I’m not exotic in the least.” As if to prove her point, she takes the cherry off the whipped cream on her waffle and pops it in her mouth. She chews and swallows. “Effective, organized, professional, yes. But not exotic.”
“You’re a lot more than those things.”
“Yeah? Like what?” She licks her lips but misses a bit of cream in the corner of her mouth.
I grab my napkin and dab her lip. She withdraws, like she’s embarrassed, but I gently shush her. “It’s okay. Just a tiny bit of cream.”
When I’ve dabbed it off, I open my mouth to speak. “Do you want to know what I’ve noticed about you? I love how you scribble endless little notes to yourself on your enormous wall calendar, and how you diffuse essential oils in your office like you’re a dealer trying to sell the stuff to the world. I love how you light up when anything involving weddings is mentioned. I love how sweet you are with my dog and Leo."
She laughs and I keep going, as long as I dare, with every little thing that comes to mind. “I like your smile and the way you wear high heels like you’re allergic to comfort, your quick wit, and the way you make the brides you talk with feel like a million bucks."
There’s so much more I could say about her, but it would be unprofessional to tell her all the things.
And as I’m speaking, the look on her face warms me like nothing ever has before.