Black Tie Optional (Wild Wedding Series Book 1)

by Ann Marie Walker

  “Hi, Mrs. Jackson.”

  “And goodness, who’s this?”

  Cole stood and extended his hand. “I’m Coleman Grant,” he said. “Olivia’s husband.”

  “Congratulations,” she said, shaking his hand. “I’m Alice Jackson.” Once again, her expression indicated no semblance of surprise. Alice not only knew that Olivia was in town, he’d bet his next paycheck she also knew exactly who she’d married.

  “Wait,” she said. “Not the Coleman Grant of Grant Industries?”

  The woman was so predictable, he nearly yawned. He gave it five minutes before she asked for money.

  “The very same,” he said.

  “I was just reading about that fancy gala you had up in Chicago.” Alice pulled out a seat, making herself at home though no one had invited her to stay. “If you don’t mind me asking, would you ever consider supporting a smaller charity? Say, one downstate?”

  Two minutes. Alice might have set a new record. “Possibly,” Cole said. “Did you have a particular one in mind?”

  “Since you asked . . .” She leaned closer as if she had breaking news to share. “It just so happens that I’m chairing this year’s ‘Pink Power’ luncheon. We hold it every year to aid women in the area who are going through breast cancer treatment. Our fund covers things insurance won’t, like transportation to treatments.”

  “Alice,” Susan looked horrified by her neighbor’s bold request. “This is hardly the place to—”

  “It’s quite all right, Susan.” Cole was used to these types of solicitations, whether for jobs or donations, or his favorite, the new startup looking for an investor to help launch the next best-selling app. But as transparent as dear Alice was, her cause was worthy. “Sounds like a noble venture, Mrs. Jackson. And one I would be happy to support. Would a hundred thousand cover this year’s goal?”

  The poor woman nearly fell out of her chair. “Oh, my goodness, yes!”

  “Excellent. I’ll have my assistant send a check as soon as I’m back in the office on Monday.”

  “I just . . . I don’t . . . I mean . . .” Alice floundered to find the words to express herself. She placed her hand on her chest and took a calming breath. “I can’t thank you enough, Mr. Grant.”

  “You’re quite welcome.” Riding the high of impressing his new mother-in-law, not to mention his wide-eyed wife, Cole took the conversation one step too far. “Let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”

  A glimmer sparked in Alice’s eyes and all at once Cole knew he should have kept his mouth shut.

  “Well,” she said. “Now that you mention it—”

  “Alice, I’m sure the last thing Cole wants to do is talk business when he’s finally gotten away from the grind.” Susan tried her best to derail the speeding freight train, but Alice was not to be deterred.

  “I’m also the editor of our local paper,” she said. “We’d love to do a story on you and Olivia, big city meets small town type of thing. I just know our readers would be fascinated by the story of your courtship.”

  No way. While a profile on him and Olivia wasn’t a bad idea, it would be with a publication of Cole’s choosing; one with a high circulation where he could be guaranteed content control and final approval. Not a small-town paper with a loose cannon at the helm.

  Susan stood. “Don’t let us keep you, Alice. I’m sure you want to take that call in privacy.”

  The woman looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Call? What call? My phone didn’t ring.”

  Susan lifted the receiver from its cradle on the wall and punched in a few numbers. Within seconds Alice’s cell phone began to ring.

  “What in the world?” She dug her flip phone out of her bag and silenced it. Cole was half tempted to ask how she managed to have such reliable coverage, but fearing she might also run a local wireless franchise, decided against it. The way things were going, he’d end up leaving there with a razor phone and a two-year service contract.

  “You’re not fooling me, Alice Jackson. If you read about the gala, then you knew darn well that Olivia and Cole had gotten married. Now, you’ve already hit my new son-in-law up for cash, which he very graciously agreed to donate. That was one thing, because like he said, it’s a worthy cause. But enough is enough. He’s here for a little R&R, not to do an interview for your gossip column.”

  Alice’s mouth popped open. She tried her best to appear both hurt and shocked, but Susan was having none of it.

  “Oh, don’t look at me like that.” She handed Alice a muffin from the basket on the center of the table. “Here, take this home to Paul.” Susan placed her hand on the woman’s shoulder as she herded her toward the door. “And let me know if you need any help on the food committee. I have a great new kale recipe I’m dying to try.”

  Alice’s expression changed to one of confusion. It was almost as if she wasn’t quite sure how she ended up in motion. “Um, okay.” She glanced over her shoulder at Cole. “Thank you again, Mr. Grant, and if you change your mind about that interview—”

  “Why don’t you two kids go see what Daddy’s up to. I thought I saw him packing up the truck.” Susan’s voice trailed off as she guided Alice to the porch and pulled the door shut behind them.

  As Olivia drew closer to the battered red pick-up truck, she couldn’t help but think of the many times over the years her dad had taken her with him on house calls. Growing up, it had been the highlight of her week. No matter how busy he was, he always explained exactly what he was doing. Sometimes, he’d even let her help.

  “Where you headed?” she asked.

  Her father tossed one last bag into the bed of the truck. “Down to the Johnson place. Ms. Lulu has been making a nest.”

  “Oh, exciting! Mind if we tag along?”

  He closed the back end of the pickup and wiped the dust from his hands. “Suit yourself, but put a move on.”

  Olivia turned to Cole. “Ever been to a pig farrowing?”

  His eyes grew wide. “If by that do you mean have I ever witnessed a sow giving birth, no I can’t say that I have.”

  Olivia yanked open the passenger side door of the pickup truck. “Then you’re in for treat.” She hopped up into the cab and slid across the seat. “Well, come on, you heard the man, put a move on.”

  Cole climbed in beside her. “At the risk of sounding like a total city boy, did you say the pig was making a nest?”

  Her father nodded. “They start carrying straw around and pushing it into a spot that they like when they are getting ready to give birth.” He turned the key, and the engine roared to life. “From the sounds of it we don’t have long, so buckle up and hold on.”

  With that they sped off down the dirt lane to the neighboring farm. When they reached the back of the property, her dad made a bee-line for the barn, leaving Olivia and Cole doing their best to keep up. They found the sow lying in her pen in the middle of a very impressive circle of straw. Her breathing was labored and even to a novice like Olivia, it was obvious she was having contractions. Her father didn’t waste any time, not that there was any to spare. Within minutes of their arrival the first piglet popped out. Her dad placed the little guy next to his mother and Olivia watched in amazement as he instinctively latched onto her teat and began to suckle.

  The process repeated again and again until there were five little piglets nestled up next to the sow. It had been years since Olivia had seen newborn pigs. Two were spotted while the other three were a solid pink, and although all five were smaller then she remembered, one was especially so.

  “That one’s kind of on the small side, eh?”

  Her father nodded. “He’s the runt for sure.”

  They watched as the tiny piglet rooted around in the straw. After a few minutes passed her father turned to Cole. “Do me a favor and grab the heat lamp out of the back of my truck.”

  “Um, yeah, sure thing,” he said.

  Olivia knelt next to her father as he cared for the exhausted sow. She’d see
n him tend to countless animals over the years, but his dedication and compassion never ceased to amaze her.

  “What if he can’t manage?”

  “That husband of yours wouldn’t last a day on a farm,” he said. “But I’m sure even he can manage to find a heat lamp in the back of a pickup truck.”

  Olivia laughed. “Not Cole, the runt. Can we bottle-feed him if he doesn’t figure this out?” They’d done that very thing a few years back, even going so far as to take the little piglet home when his mother rejected him. Judging by the look on his face, her father remembered that time with a little less nostalgia.

  “Don’t go getting any ideas. Your mother nearly killed me.” He looked at Olivia and winked. “And this time you won’t be there to protect me.”

  “But what if he keeps having trouble?” Perhaps she could bring him home with her. Surely the penthouse was big enough for two adults and one miniature swine. Then again, one of those adults was an uptight stick in the mud. For a moment, Olivia let herself imagine how that conversation would go down. The thought alone had her nearly laughing out loud.

  “If need be, we can hand-milk some of the colostrum,” her father said. “Just give him a few minutes.” He shifted the runt to another nipple. The tiny pig squeaked and squealed but after a few minutes he settled down and was able to latch on to his mother. “There you go.” Brian shuffled back so Olivia could get a bit closer. “Now, listen carefully to hear if he’s starting to drink.”

  Olivia leaned down but instead of hearing the content sounds of a suckling piglet, she heard a loud screech followed by a boom and a thudding splash.

  Her father’s head snapped up. “What the—”

  Olivia sprang to her feet. “Cole . . .” She charged through the barn doors and into the bright sunlight. The door to the outdoor pig pen was wide open. The boar was still inside, although clearly agitated. The truck was right where her dad had left it with the lamp still in the back. Where in the world was . . .

  Another splash and a cough pulled Olivia’s attention back to the pen. What she saw had her mouth opening on a silent gasp. Because in the distance, covered in mud and wiping slop from his face, was her city slicker husband attempting to climb out of the trough.

  “Oh, my God,” she mumbled while trying her best not to laugh. “Dad!” she called out to her father as she ran into the pen, closing the wooden gate behind her.

  “What happened?” she asked when she finally reached Cole.

  He looked up at her. Every inch of his body was slathered with a mixture of mud and slimy food. “The pen was open and that pig”—he pointed to the grunting boar—“was about to escape. I thought if I lured him back I could shut the gate.” He picked a slice of melon out of his hair and flung it to the ground. “Then he just charged at me like a goddamn bull.”

  Olivia’s father walked up beside them, wiping his hands on a towel. “That’s why we keep the boars penned separately,” he said. “When the sow is in labor, it can make them aggressive.”

  “So I noticed,” Cole said dryly.

  Olivia twisted her lips in an attempt to hide her smile.

  “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

  “Little bit.” She held out her hand. “Here, let me help you.”

  “Careful. I’m half tempted to pull you in,” Cole said.

  “You wouldn’t dare.”

  A glimmer lit Cole’s eyes as he took her hand.

  “Oh, I think he might.” Her father chuckled. “But then you’ll be walking home. Here,” he dug his keys out of the front pocket of his jeans and handed them to his daughter. “Drive Cole home and get him cleaned up. But son, you’re riding in the back. No way I want that mess in my truck.”

  Olivia drove as carefully as possible and for the most part was able to keep a straight face. Except for when she inadvertently hit a pothole. The thump and subsequent curse were just too much to resist.

  When they got home, Cole headed straight to the shower while Olivia stopped in the kitchen to check on her mom. The scent of her mother’s homemade marinara greeted her the moment she walked through the door. “Smells delicious,” she said. “Need any help?”

  “I’m almost done, but you can make the salad if you’d like?”

  “Sure.” Olivia dug the romaine out of the bottom of the refrigerator and started rinsing it in the sink.

  “Alice called while you were out.”

  “She did?”

  “Mmm-hmm.” Her mom lifted the lid off the pot and added the last of the diced tomatoes to the sauce. “Cole left a voicemail for her at the paper.”

  “When did he have time to—” The words weren’t even out of her mouth when the answer dawned on her. “Must have been right before he was chased by the boar.” The image made her smile, just as it had for the last half hour.

  “It’s not nice to laugh at someone else’s expense,” her mom said. She was right of course, but Olivia couldn’t help but notice the grin that tugged at her mother’s lips as well.

  “Did she say why he called?” It was a stupid question. Of course, Alice would have told her. In fact, she was probably half-way through the story before her mother had even had a chance to say hello.

  “Apparently, Cole would like his donation to remain anonymous.”

  For the life of her, Olivia couldn’t imagine the man she saw working the crowd a week ago at the Grant Family Foundation wanting to remain anonymous about anything, much less a charitable donation. She made a mental note to ask him about it if the opportunity presented itself, but by the time Cole made his way to the kitchen, her father was back and they were ready to sit down to eat.

  The conversation at dinner that night flowed more easily than it had the night before, with thankfully no discussions of exes or cross examinations of husbands. At one point, her father mentioned Alice Jackson, something to do with an item she wanted for the silent auction. Cole had shifted in his seat a bit at the mention of her name. Olivia suspected it had nothing to do with her shameless attempt to raise funds and everything to do with his desire to keep his generosity a secret.

  When they were finished eating, Olivia stood up and started to clear the plates. “I got this,” her mother said. “Why don’t you two go for a walk. It’s a lovely night.”

  Olivia hesitated. “I was going to take Bucky out for some fresh air. Want to come?”

  “I have a few emails I need to reply to. Mind if I set my laptop up in your room?”

  She shrugged. “Suit yourself,” she said, pushing through the screen door with Bucky following close behind.

  Cole had read the same email three times. But no matter how hard he tried to focus, he couldn’t seem to take his mind off the girl and her dog. He could see them through the window above Olivia’s desk. She was sitting on a wide bench-style swing. It was the kind people usually had on their front porch but this one hung from some sort of wooden structure that had been erected under a wide Weeping Willow. As he watched her, swinging her legs back and forth with Bucky snoozing at her side, he couldn’t help but think of the contrasts, not only in their current lives but in their upbringing.

  Growing up, Cole’s parents had barely spoken to each other, let alone to him. His mother had had her moments when he was younger, little glimpses of what he was missing the rest of his life. But for the most part, Cole had been raised by members of the staff, and once he’d hit his troubled teens, his mother all but washed her hands of him. The Ramseys were different. Their connections were genuine, and the love they felt for one another had a rippling effect. So much so that Cole had to make a conscious effort to remind himself that he wasn’t one of them. Not really. He couldn’t let himself get sucked into the ruse. This wasn’t his life, not by a long shot. In reality, his life was the polar opposite of Olivia’s, and so were their personalities. They had little to nothing in common and yet there was no denying that as he sat there watching his wife, just a girl with her dog, what he wanted more than anything was to join her on that
swing.

  Fuck it.

  Cole shut down his laptop and made his way to the backyard. When Olivia saw him, she shifted over, making room on the swing. “Join us?”

  “Sure Bucky won’t mind sharing his spot?”

  “I think he can spare an inch or two.” She wrapped both arms under the dog and pulled him closer to her side of the swing. But as soon as Cole took a seat Bucky turned and put his head in his lap.

  “Oh, hello.” Cole patted the dog on the head with a stiff hand.

  Olivia laughed. “You’re acting like he’s a wild animal that might rear up and bite you, not a twelve-year-old lab just looking for a snuggle.”

  Cole looked up at the flower-filled vines that wrapped around the wooden frame of the swing, and his eyes narrowed. Initials had been carved into the wood. OR + DH. Olivia Ramsey and Derek Hunt? “Rather unique swing,” he said.

  “My dad made it out of my old jungle gym,” Olivia said, oblivious to his observations. “I pretty much lived in that thing when I was a kid.”

  Interesting, Cole thought. Doctor Do-Good must has been around since the early days. But before he could figure out a subtle way to find out more, Olivia surprised him with a compliment of all things.

  “I didn’t get a chance to say anything before, but that was very nice of you to donate to Mrs. Jackson’s charity.”

  Cole shrugged. “I’ve seen the havoc cancer treatment can wreak on someone’s life.”

  Olivia smiled. “Rebecca is lucky to have you.”

  “She might disagree with you on that sometimes.” He chuckled. “I do as much as she’ll let me, but there are plenty of people out there who don’t have overbearing brothers pushing their way into their lives.”

  “And you asked Alice to keep it quiet?”

  He frowned. “A concept she clearly has trouble understanding.”

  “She only told my mom. Probably figured it was all right since she already knew.”

  Cole gave a tight nod.

  “Don’t you want the publicity?”