by Gina Wilkins
Cassie had been trying to fix him up with someone for quite a while, but especially since she’d become engaged. He suspected she was afraid he’d be lonely after she moved away. And maybe he would, at least at first…but he’d deal with it, he thought in dry amusement. He didn’t need his kid to find companionship for him. Nor did he see any reason to mention to her that the most intriguing part of the class for him at the moment was the fact that pretty Bonnie Carmichael was the teacher.
“So did you pick up your wedding programs yet?” he asked her, abruptly changing the subject.
Her face lit up. The one sure way to distract Cassie from any uncomfortable subject was to ask about her wedding preparations. “Yes, this morning. They’re so pretty! Exactly what I wanted to hand out at the wedding, with the poem Mike and I love so much printed at the top and very cool, stylized flowers as a border. I left them at Mom’s house, but I brought one home to show you. I think I left it in the car. I’ll run out and get it when I finish my salad. I’m so glad I decided to go with pistachio and dove-gray for my wedding colors, even though Mom was concerned about the combination. It’s going to be gorgeous, Dad. Really.”
“I have no doubt.” His design-major daughter had impeccable tastes, if not as traditional as her mother would have liked.
“And just to make Mom happy, I’m adding a few pops of coral here and there,” she confided.
“You know your mother will like anything you decide for your wedding. She just wants you to be happy. As do I.”
“I know.” She smiled somewhat mistily at him. “I’m so lucky to have you as parents, Daddy. I want you to know I’m aware that you’ve both always put my best interests ahead of your own. Someday, when Mike and I have kids, I hope we’ll be nearly as good at parenting as you two have been.”
He cleared his throat with what Cassie would probably have termed his typical male awkwardness at such a blatantly sentimental moment. “At least you and Mike are getting married and establishing your careers before diving into parenthood. Your mom and I did the best we could considering we were just dumb kids ourselves.”
“And you learned to change diapers and braid hair and kiss boo-boos while other guys your age were chilling at college keg parties,” she teased fondly. “Mom told me you never missed even one of your visitation weekends even when you spent all week juggling work and college, nor did you hesitate to babysit any time she needed a break. And you never complained about child support payments. In fact, she said you often slipped her a little extra when you had it.”
Hearing her describing his life since his late teens served as a reminder of the freedom that lay ahead for him. There were parts of it that were going to be very nice, indeed, even though he knew there would be times when he missed those earlier days. Still, he was rather intrigued by the idea of discovering what it would be like to be Paul, the bachelor, rather than just “Cassie’s dad.” But for the next few weeks he would continue to fill that role willingly and to the best of his abilities.
“Do you need a little extra, Cass? I know the wedding stuff must be getting expensive.”
Her laugh pealed musically through his functional little kitchen. “Daddy, I’m not hinting for cash. Trust me, you’ve paid enough toward the wedding. I’m just trying to thank you for all you’ve done for me. I don’t know, I guess I woke up in a sappy mood this morning. I realized that in just a little over five weeks, I’ll be getting married and moving hundreds of miles away from you for the first time in my life. And I don’t want to do that without making sure you know exactly how much I love you and how grateful I am to you for giving me such a happy childhood.”
“Your mom and Larry had a lot to do with that, too.”
“Yes. And I’m thanking both of them for their part. The three of you have been a rare and amazing team. I know it wasn’t always easy, and I know it required compromise from all of you—but you did it for me. And for the twins, by the way. They know how lucky they are to have their ‘Uncle Paul’ in their life.”
From across the table, he pointed his fork at her. “Okay, I’m going to say one thing and then I want to change the subject before I embarrass myself by bursting into unmanly tears here. Regardless of how it came about, you are the best thing that ever happened to me. I knew it from the first time I laid eyes on you, when I was just a scared kid who’d barely started shaving. Yeah, it was hard sometimes, but I wouldn’t change one thing that brought us to where we are today. I love you and I am so proud of you. Now, change of topic, please.”
Cassie blinked rapidly and gave him a sweet, misty smile. “So, Bonnie Carmichael is really pretty, hmm? I can’t help wondering if that has anything to do with your sudden urge to learn about healthy cooking.”
Actually, he’d been wondering that, as well.
Chapter Two
At five minutes before six on the following Tuesday, Bonnie mingled politely with the five women who’d assembled for the first of the three cooking classes. She was confident her bright smile hid her foolish disappointment that Paul Drennan hadn’t shown up. It wasn’t as if she’d really expected him to take the class, despite his impulsive acceptance of her invitation last week. It had been silly to spend so much time thinking about him and hoping she’d get through the classes without making a fool of herself because of her atypical clumsiness around him.
For this first class, she had the students gather for refreshments around one of the tables in the large, sunny dining room of Bride Mountain Inn. China cups and saucers and plates of petits fours and delicate meringues sat in front of them.
Silver candlesticks graced the tables, along with white linens and colorful flowers in crystal vases. An antique silver plate and crystal chandelier gleamed overhead. Great-grandmother Finley had salvaged that piece from an old Virginia plantation when she and her husband originally opened the inn in the 1930s, and it had hung here since with only occasional refurbishing, most recently when Bonnie and her siblings had taken ownership. Bonnie had insisted on keeping as many of the original furnishings and decorations as possible during the remodel. They’d restored almost all of the beautiful old light fixtures. Given the value of these items, they limited their guests to ages twelve and older, directing callers with smaller children to nice family motels and inns nearby.
Kinley and Logan both had other part-time jobs—Kinley selling real estate, Logan consulting for business software design—but Bonnie’s whole life was here at the inn. She worked here seven days a week, and she hadn’t even taken a real vacation in the past three years. As far as she was concerned, teaching this class was just another task that went along with her responsibilities as hostess, head chef, housekeeper, decorator and concierge. Kinley called her “the heart of the inn.” Bonnie rather liked that title.
Standing beside the demonstration table she had prepared, she cleared her throat to claim the attention of the chattering group of friends. “I think we’re almost ready to start. Some of you may want to move to another table so everyone can see clearly. Before we begin, does anyone need a refill on coffee, tea, lemonade or water?”
The women gathered their snacks and arranged themselves around two tables, their noisy conversations barely abating in the process. Bonnie wondered if she could get this ebullient group quiet long enough to teach them anything. Nora Willis, the woman who’d persuaded Bonnie to offer this class for her group of thirtysomething friends, was the loudest of them all, her frequent, hearty laughter filling the room.
With one minute remaining until six o’clock, Bonnie drew a deep breath and spoke above the happy din. “If everyone is comfortable, we’ll go ahead and—”
Paul rushed into the room with a sheepish smile and an apology. “I’m sorry I’m late. Please forgive me for the interruption.”
Bonnie was glad everyone had turned to look at the newcomer rather than at her. It gave her a moment to ensure that h
er expression didn’t give away her pleasure at seeing him enter, all windblown, flustered and sexy male.
Teaching this class had just become considerably more difficult. Not because she didn’t know the subject matter, but because it would be all too easy for Paul Drennan to become the teacher’s pet.
Paul settled into a chair at the second table, greeting the two women there quickly with smiles and nods, all the while looking apologetically at Bonnie. She smiled to assure him she wasn’t annoyed, then addressed the group again. “Most of you know each other, but for our newcomer’s sake, why don’t you go around the tables and introduce yourselves. Nora, you start.”
Nora and her four friends took turns stating their names, looking directly at Paul as they did so. Nora, Lydia, Kathy, Jennifer and Heather were visibly pleased to have an attractive man in the group—especially Lydia and Jennifer, who were both divorced. Paul just happened to sit at the same table as the two singles, and they seemed delighted to have him there. Tall, artfully ombre-haired Jennifer, in particular, appeared to be more intrigued by her new classmate than the cooking lessons. Bonnie didn’t miss noting that Jennifer scooted her chair a bit closer to Paul’s as if to hear him better when he introduced himself.
Bonnie began the class by passing out copies of the syllabus they would follow during this and the next two sessions. Each syllabus was tucked into a bright red pocket folder which she informed them would be filled by the end of the course with useful handouts and website suggestions. Incorporating Nora’s requests, she’d divided the three two-hour classes into one-hour blocks: Introduction to Seasonal Cooking; Fresh Herbs; Knife Skills; Spring and Summer Recipes; Fall and Winter Recipes; Canning, Drying and Freezing.
“I’ll be at the farmers’ market next Tuesday morning at eight,” she added as she distributed the schedules. “For those who are free and would like to join me, we can shop together for ingredients for the dishes we’ll make that evening.”
“I can meet you there after I drop off the kids at day camp,” Jennifer said eagerly. “It sounds like fun, doesn’t it, Paul?”
“Yes, it does.” He smiled up at Bonnie when she gave him his handout, and she wondered if it was only an accident that his fingers brushed hers as he accepted it. Whether intentional or not, that fleeting contact still made her hand tingle. She flexed her fingers surreptitiously as she returned to the demo table to begin her informal lecture about the many advantages—ecologically, financially and nutritionally—of cooking with fresh, locally grown produce.
She tried very hard to divide her attention evenly among the class members. She made a point not to look at Paul too much—or too little, which could be just as noticeable. She didn’t like feeling so self-conscious, and she chided herself mentally for her schoolgirl behavior. But still she was too keenly aware of him sitting there listening so attentively, even when other members of the class called attention to themselves with blurted comments or questions or jests. Jennifer, in particular, seemed intent on making sure Paul knew she was available for extracurricular activities.
After forty minutes of lecture and discussion, Bonnie suggested a ten-minute break before the next session. “Feel free to walk in the gardens or help yourself to snacks and drinks, but please keep an eye on the time so we can begin again promptly.”
Taking advantage of the cooler temperatures as shadows lengthened in the gardens, the women decided to step outside for the break while Bonnie set up for the next session. “Come with us, Paul,” Jennifer urged. “The gardens here are just beautiful.”
“Yes, I’ve seen them and they are,” he replied with an easy smile. “But I need to speak with Bonnie for a moment before class starts again.”
Seeming unable to come up with a reason to linger with him, Jennifer went out with the others, though she looked back over her shoulder at Paul before stepping outside. Paul waited until the door had closed before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a check. “My registration fee,” he said. “Wouldn’t want you to think I’m a freeloader.”
Bonnie laughed and tucked the check into a deep pocket of her floral summer skirt. “I didn’t think that.”
“I’m not really in the mood to walk the gardens right now. Is there anything I can do to help you set up for the next part?”
He was too much the gentleman to admit that he was avoiding Jennifer, but Bonnie had her suspicions. “You can bring things in from the kitchen, if you like,” she said.
Maybe he was just being polite, genuinely attempting to be helpful rather than trying to escape the attentions of an admittedly attractive woman. The awkward truth was, she hadn’t much liked seeing Jennifer flirting so blatantly with Paul, but maybe he’d liked it very much. It would certainly be unprofessional of her to flirt with him, at least while he was a participant in her class, she told herself primly.
And still she found herself smiling up at him through her lashes when he stopped close beside her in the kitchen. “You can carry one basket,” she said, motioning toward the two large picnic-style baskets on the counter. “I’ll get the other one.”
“I’d be happy to.” He reached for the closest handle. “I’m sorry again that I was so late,” he said as they carried the baskets into the dining room. “The twins needed a lift to a youth party at their church and their mom got hung up at work and everyone else was otherwise occupied, so she called me. I’d have still had plenty of time, but Jenna had to try on every pair of shoes in her closet before she decided she was ready to go. I have to admit I was pretty impatient with her by the time we finally got away, because I was really looking forward to this class.”
“You were exactly on time,” she reminded him, then asked, “Jenna is one of the twins, right?”
“Right. Jenna and Jackson.”
Setting her basket on the demo table, Bonnie glanced up at him, thinking not for the first time that he had a decidedly different relationship with his daughter’s other family. She couldn’t help wondering, though, why he’d never started a new family of his own. He seemed to enjoy fatherhood—even honorary “unclehood”—but she’d heard no evidence of a special woman in his life. Was he a commitment-phobe? Or—she couldn’t help frowning a little—was he still hung up on his remarkable ex after all these years, even though Holly had long since moved on? Not that it was any of her business, of course.
He stood back and watched as she unloaded the supplies onto the demo table. She unpacked six cute little glass jars with home-printed labels, arranging them next to a food processor. Paul picked up one of the jars and read the label. “You’re making pesto?”
“Yes. Everyone’s going home with a jar tonight and easy instructions for making it yourself.”
He chuckled and replaced the jar. “Now that would impress Cassie, if I served her pesto I made myself.”
Laughing softly, Bonnie patted his arm without thinking about it. “By the time you’ve finished this class, you can wow her with a whole meal you prepared yourself, from the salad course to dessert, all made with fresh, local produce.”
He rested his hand over hers before she could draw away and gave a little squeeze to her fingers. “She’ll think you’re a miracle worker.”
Though his gesture had been casual, teasing, as had her own, she reacted as she had before to his touch. Or rather, she overreacted with a surge of awareness and a wave of heat that were totally out of proportion to the situation. Quickly drawing her hand away on the pretext of setting out more supplies, she told herself that she really had neglected her social life for too long. Maybe she’d start working on that online dating profile this very evening, though she wondered if she would find anyone there as interesting and appealing as Paul.
Jennifer came back into the dining room, followed closely by the others. Jennifer made a beeline for Paul. “You missed a lovely walk in the garden,” she said. “It’s cooler now that the sun’s gone down a
bit, and the flowers are beautiful. And that fountain…well, it’s just perfect.”
“What he really missed was the look on Heather’s face when that big dog suddenly appeared beside the fountain,” Nora said with a giggle that was too deliberately girlish for her age. “That was priceless.”
Heather scowled. “Well, you have to admit he looked scary. I couldn’t help that little gasp. Thank goodness I saw almost immediately that he was being held by his owner.”
Bonnie swallowed a groan. “That’s my brother’s dog, Ninja. I know he looks intimidating, but he’s really very gentle. And Logan keeps him on a leash when they take their walks around the property.”
Logan had learned to keep the curious rottweiler-mix dog under close supervision because of Ninja’s uncanny knack for escaping all but the most secure enclosures. Ninja was completely harmless, rarely even barked, but his size alone was enough to frighten nervous guests, so he was not allowed to freely roam the grounds. When Logan was busy, Ninja was locked into the sizeable backyard of Logan’s cottage down the hill from the inn. The two could often be seen taking long walks around the property early in the mornings and late in the day, good exercise for both of them. Logan had bonded with the former stray in a way he rarely did with people, other than his two sisters.
“You said the dog’s owner is your brother?” Lydia asked a bit too casually. “He’s a nice-looking man, isn’t he?”
Smiling a little, Bonnie said, “Yes, I think so.”
“Single?”
“Very.”
“You Carmichael siblings,” Nora said with a teasing shake of her head. “All work, all the time. At least Kinley is in a romantic relationship now, but I’m beginning to wonder if you and Logan are married to this inn.”
“Let’s just say we’ve made the inn our top priority for the past few years,” Bonnie replied lightly. “We’ll get around to other things, eventually.”
