Best Laid Wedding Plans

by Lynnette Austin

“Just guys talkin’ sports over a grill.”

  Her expression cried liar again.

  “You and my dad planning something I should know about?”

  “Nope.”

  “Richard still hasn’t called.”

  “He will.”

  “From your lips to God’s ears.” She sighed.

  Worry hazed those incredible blue eyes, and Cole wanted to punch Richard’s lights out for putting it there.

  “He’ll call.”

  “You can’t know that.”

  Unease settled in Cole’s belly. “Yeah. I do know.”

  “Hmmph.”

  He felt like a heel. He felt…untruthful. Like that liar she’d called him. Yet he couldn’t tell her about Richard’s implied threat or his trip to the banker’s office. Not yet. He’d missed his chance earlier. Now, it would have to wait. It weighed him down.

  * * *

  Jenni Beth dropped onto an old Adirondack chair. Why did Cole sound so certain? And yet, at the same time he prowled, uneasy.

  She studied her nails, wondering if there was even the slightest chance of resurrecting them. Helen at Frenchie’s Beauty Parlor would probably kick her out if she dared darken her door with this mess.

  She smiled. It had been too long since she’d visited pink-haired Helen and her Grease-themed shop. Maybe she’d call tomorrow, if only to talk for a minute. If she intended to live in Misty Bottoms, she needed to reestablish herself. And who knew? She and Helen might be able to work up a package for brides and their attendants. They’d need someone to make them beautiful for their special day. Why not Helen and her staff?

  She’d need to contact the two local hotels, too, to see if she could finagle some kind of discount rate or group package for overnight wedding guests. Guests who would spend money in town.

  Her cell rang. Surprised, she nearly spilled the soft drink in her hand.

  Caller ID showed it was Richard. Her stomach fluttered. He quite literally held her—and her family’s—future in his hands.

  “Hello?”

  She glanced up, saw Cole’s full attention trained on her. Shifting in her chair, she turned her back on him. She could handle this. Cole had started Traditions, his own business. Now it was time for her to start hers.

  “Sorry for calling so late,” Richard said, “but I wanted to clear a few things off my desk before I head home.”

  “No problem.” A lie she prayed would be forgiven. Inwardly, she could gladly have wrung his neck for stringing her along these past couple days on what was a sound business proposal. He was a bully—a small-minded, arrogant bully. She felt sorry for his wife.

  “Will you be in town tomorrow?”

  “I can be.”

  “Good, good. Listen, why don’t you stop in and we can finish that paperwork. I’ll have everything ready for you to sign.”

  Jenni Beth closed her eyes in a quick prayer of thanks.

  “Any special time?” she asked.

  “Whenever you get here is good. Gloria will have everything drawn up.”

  She hesitated, almost afraid to ask, but needing to know. One deep breath and she plowed in. “Were you able to give me the full amount?”

  “Almost. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

  She turned off her cell, understanding what he hadn’t said.

  Well, she’d deal with that later. Right now, she intended to enjoy dinner with her family and friends. Lightness and life. The old house needed this. Her parents needed this. Beck and Cole had brought a much-needed shot of energy to Magnolia House.

  She glanced at her mother, saw a smile on her face. A matching one sat on her father’s. Warmth spread through her. The burgers, thanks to Cole, were wonderful—juicy and perfectly cooked. The conversation flew from one to the other, and there was laughter at the table. All in all, the evening was perfect.

  While Charlotte and her mother cleared, Jenni Beth walked with Beck to the front yard.

  “I know you’re the guy with all the connections,” she said. “And I understand your own men are already booked up with projects you have scheduled. But I’ll need workmen to plaster, to sheetrock, to do some plumbing and electrical work. Are there people in town who can do this, or will I need to bring in some outside help? I’d really like to put Misty Bottoms people to work if at all possible.”

  “Give me a couple days to do some checkin’, and I’ll get back to you. I’m sure we can handle this job with local people. Things have been slow here, and the guys will be glad for the work.”

  “That’s what I was hoping. Thanks, Beck, for everything.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek, wondering again why she couldn’t feel anything but brotherly love for him. Maybe because Tansy had loved him. Jenni Beth had never understood how her best friend could have married someone else. Could have hurt Beck so badly.

  As he walked to his truck, she stood, her arms wrapped around her waist. Everything was starting to fall into place. She waved as he disappeared down the drive.

  When she turned, Cole stood behind her.

  No noise, no chatter came from the back of the house. Her parents had gone inside. Beck was on his way home. Charlotte was in the kitchen cleaning up. Only Cole remained. In the dim summer light she stared at him, a nervous laugh playing through her mind.

  He looked like a dark angel. But his eyes? A rogue’s eyes, full of mischief and devilment. How did a woman resist that combination?

  No brotherly feelings here. Nope. But feelings? Emotions churned inside her, every bit as chaotic and dangerous as the running of the bulls at Pamplona. Why couldn’t she get this man out of her system? He’d let her down too many times. Had broken her heart.

  And still, she wanted him.

  He took a step toward her, the pale moonlight shining on him, silvering the light streaks in his dark hair. Her pulse kicked up a few notches, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he heard the thunder of her heart.

  “I have no right to ask, but I’m gonna,” he said quietly. “Will you grant me one favor, Jenni Beth?”

  “Grant you a favor? You make me sound like a princess or a queen.” She laughed. “We both know I’m neither of those.”

  “No. Thank God, you’re a flesh-and-blood woman.”

  Her breath caught, and she steeled herself for what might be coming.

  “Now that your porch is rebuilt and is no longer in danger of fallin’ in, will you sit with me on the swing?”

  “What?”

  “For a few minutes. I need to go to Savannah in the morning, had planned to go back today. I’m only askin’ for a couple minutes of your time. No complications, I promise. No kissin’, no hand-holdin’. I just want to sit with you.”

  “Cole Bryson, I swear you’re a brick shy of a full load.”

  “Probably.” He stuffed his hands in his back pockets. “So will you?”

  “Sit on the porch swing with you?”

  “Yes.”

  She smiled warily at him. “Despite everything, you’re a good friend, and you worked darned hard today. You’ve earned some porch-sittin’ time.”

  He walked toward her. The peepers and crickets sang their song. Somewhere off in the trees, an owl hooted. The summer night air wrapped itself around her, and Jenni Beth wondered if the fireflies truly were magical. If they didn’t spill a little fairy dust around when they blinked on and off.

  When he reached for her hand, she nearly drew it away. Nearly reminded him of his no-hand-holding promise. Deciding against it, she took that warm, calloused hand in her own.

  And almost sighed aloud.

  Together, they walked to the porch, through the patches of grass that still needed to be mowed. Past the stacks of lumber pieces left from today’s work. They climbed the stairs that needed more than a fresh coat of paint to make them safe and moved to the swing.


  He held it as she sat, then dropped beside her. She swore his heat could generate enough electricity to run all of Atlanta for a good week or so. And despite his earlier labors, he smelled good. He smelled sexy.

  Despite herself, she laid her head on his shoulder and set the swing moving with the tip of her toes.

  Neither spoke.

  His arm came around her, drew her closer. Her hand splayed across his chest. Oh boy, did he feel good. So strong, so muscular. And he smelled so male. She wanted to move closer, cuddle till midnight. And beyond.

  Knew she didn’t dare.

  The moon moved higher in the sky. The cicadas added their rasping, buzzing call to the night sounds. Inside, the house was quiet. A faint light in the hallway spilled onto the porch.

  How long they sat like that, she couldn’t have said.

  But when he turned, laid one hand on her check, and dipped his head, the warning system she’d so carefully erected around her heart failed.

  She opened her mouth and met his kiss head-on. Everything, everyone else disappeared. The world shrunk to the two of them, and she didn’t want the moment to ever end. One kiss led to two, then three.

  Slowly he drew away and straightened.

  “Damn, you taste good. I should probably apologize for that, after my promise and all, but I’m not gonna. Instead, I’ll say thank you. Good luck tomorrow. If things don’t work out with Beck’s guys, give me a call. We’ll see what we can do. Good night, sugar.”

  “’Night, Cole.”

  When he turned his back to her, she laid a finger on her lips. Even his kiss was full of confidence. So Cole. Whatever he did, he gave it one hundred percent.

  Oh yeah. His kisses rang her bell.

  She sat there while the lights came on in that big black truck of his, the gold lettering advertising Traditions, his salvaging company, glowing in the moonlight. Watched as he idled down the long drive. Watched as his taillights disappeared from view.

  Laying her head back, she stared into the inky sky. Stars spilled across it like so much confetti. Trembling fingers traced her still-burning lips, lips that already missed Cole’s. What did he want?

  Her or her house?

  Maybe it was a moot point. In the morning, he’d drive back to Savannah.

  Would he return? She doubted it. His history was that of hit and run. It made sense he’d follow pattern.

  Chapter 13

  What did a person wear to sign her life away? Jenni Beth wondered as she rifled through her closet. She shouldn’t be this nervous. Richard had already told her she had the loan. Problem was he hadn’t approved the full amount.

  Why was he being such a tightwad?

  Argh! She should have saved more, been more careful with her money in Savannah. She could have eaten at home more, could have stopped at Starbucks less often. Waited for movies to come out on DVD instead of hitting the theater to see them with her friends.

  And, she admitted, even with all that she’d still have needed this loan.

  She hadn’t slept well, had woken periodically to stare at the ceiling, worries chasing around her mind. Because of that, she needed something vibrant for this morning. Something that would give her some color. More confidence.

  Her fingers stalled at an aqua skirt and jacket. Nope. No more suits. Misty Bottoms, even in late March, was way too warm. She’d keep a few to wear at client meetings, but maybe she could sell the rest at the new consignment shop on Market Street.

  And this wasn’t resolving her dilemma.

  Her fingers landed on a fun sundress in black with splashes of orange, blue, and yellow. Its flirty little skirt, along with her orange short-sleeve cardigan, would send a casual, you-can’t-keep-me-down message. Perfect. Problem solved.

  Standing at the kitchen counter, too wired to sit, she wolfed down a cup of coffee and a piece of toast. If she ate more, her nervous stomach might rebel.

  “You’ll do fine, honey.” Charlotte patted her cheek, the way she had when Jenni Beth was ten and worried about a spelling test.

  “Thanks, Charlotte. I’m trying my best.”

  “I know you are. And your mama and daddy are real proud of you.”

  “Are they both still sleeping?”

  “Your mama is, but your daddy went into town to have breakfast with some of his friends. Now quit frettin’.”

  “I’ll give it my best shot. Maybe I’ll run into Daddy when I’m done.” She picked up her purse, gave Charlotte a hug, and headed into the already humid morning. The bank didn’t open till nine, but come hell or high water, she’d be Richard’s first customer today. No more time in those uncomfortable chairs than necessary.

  Had her great-great-granddaddy Beaumont felt like this when he’d faced Sherman? A skirmish was a given. The only two things in question—which side would be victorious and how bad would the casualties be?

  One quick look in her rearview mirror showed she at least still had some lipstick on. No sense going into battle completely unarmed. She put the ’Vette in gear and headed out to face down her enemy.

  Because of her lead foot, the drive didn’t take nearly long enough. The bank wasn’t open yet. Pulling out her little spiral notepad, she jotted down items on her must-do list. Fifteen minutes later, she tucked it into her purse, checked her hair, and sailed through the front doors of the bank.

  “Morning, Gloria. Richard in yet?”

  “He sure is.” She picked up a file from her desk. “I’ve got all your paperwork right here. Why don’t you come with me?”

  “Thanks.” She followed in Gloria’s wake, picked up the scent of musk and vanilla. Gloria had worked for Richard as long as she could remember. Jenni Beth wondered if she liked her job, if working for the jerk made her happy.

  Well, not her concern, she supposed.

  Gloria knocked on the doorjamb before she peeked her head into Richard’s office. “Jenni Beth’s here. I have the file.”

  Not wanting to get stuck outside cooling her heels, Jenni Beth squeezed past Gloria and walked right in, uninvited.

  Richard, ensconced in his big leather chair, a cup of coffee steaming on his desk, looked up in surprise.

  He pointed at his coffee. “Want a cup?”

  “No, thanks, I had some at home.”

  He took the paperwork from Gloria and nodded. Apparently that was her unspoken signal to leave because, with a smile toward Jenni Beth, she backed out of the door and closed it behind her.

  Richard opened the file and flipped through the papers as if seeing them for the first time. He took his time, made no attempt to hurry. In fact, he acted as though he didn’t even remember she sat there.

  But he did, and she knew it. All part of his game. She disliked Richard Thorndike more with every tick of the second hand. A playground bully in an adult setting.

  Covertly, she wiped her palms on the skirt of her sundress. “Is everything in order?”

  “Oh yes. It is.” He straightened the papers. “I’m afraid, though, that rather than the full two hundred fifty thousand you requested, you only qualified for two hundred thousand. Not that big a difference, really.”

  He had the gall to send her a condescending smile.

  Her stomach clenched. Fifty thousand less? Not a big difference? Get real! It was huge! A fifth less!

  She stirred uneasily in the chair.

  Even with her collateral, the bank wouldn’t loan her the full amount? Come on! The land was worth double the amount she needed.

  She paused, forced herself to think before she responded. Cole’s odd statement from yesterday replayed in her head. He’d been dead-on right. Richard was already squeezing her. He had his fingers on her pulse. Worse. Had them on her purse. And he’d decided to pull the strings tightly enough to choke her.

  Well, he could think again. She refused to play his game of chick
en.

  Her grandfather wouldn’t have stood for this, and neither would she.

  “Two hundred thousand won’t work, Richard. At two-fifty, I’ve cut my budget to bare bones, and you know it.” She leaned back in her chair, forced herself to relax.

  “You, of all people, know what a huge job I’m tackling. In order to pull it off, I need the full loan. Nothing less.” She met his gaze levelly. “You wouldn’t try to sabotage me, would you? To take my land? We both know it’s extremely valuable, and it seems others do, too. The property on both sides of mine has been sold and marked with ‘no trespassing’ signs. Did you know that?”

  He hesitated, ever so slightly, and she understood. Cole had been right. Richard Thorndike wanted what was hers. But how had Cole known? A good guess? Hmmm.

  Richard’s face reddened. “I hope you’re not implying—”

  “Oh, but I am.” Heart in her throat, she said, “I’m afraid the loan has to be for the entire amount.”

  When he still hesitated, she picked up her purse from his desk and stood. “I’ll take my business to Savannah.”

  “Sit down,” he said. “Fine. I’ll clear the check for the entire amount, but my bosses aren’t going to be very happy with me.”

  Hah! she thought. Who was the poker player extraordinaire now? The bluff had worked.

  Struggling to keep her expression bland, she settled back on her chair and laid her purse in her lap. “Thank you.”

  Oh, she wanted to say so much more. Really rip into him. Bottom line? She had to have the money. Period. So she bit her tongue till it bled.

  She understood, too, that she had to make the business a success. Because if she didn’t, Richard would swoop down faster than a Yankee carpetbagger to take her home from her.

  There’d be no negotiations.

  Her father had already left Dee-Ann’s when Jenni Beth stopped in, so she ordered a sweet tea to go and headed home.

  Halfway down the lane to her house, she hit the brakes, flabbergasted. Three men worked at the side of her house with saws and nail guns.

  Slowly, she drove the rest of the way and stared at Beck, who walked over to meet her, his tool belt riding low.