“Are you okay now, Hannah?”
His daughter nodded, but even he could see she wasn’t as excited as she’d been seconds before. “I bet Miss Rory would like to go on our picnic.”
“I bet she would, too.”
Slipping back into the driver’s seat, Jamison reached for his phone. “Mr. Spears.”
“Jamison, good of you to pick up.”
He heard the dry reproach in his boss’s voice but refused to make excuses. “I’m glad you called. I was about to phone in to let you know I won’t be coming in today.”
“Jamison—”
“I’m spending the day with my daughter.” Catching Hannah’s gaze in the rearview mirror, he shot her a wink.
“We’re gonna watch a princess movie!” she shouted, and he grinned, not knowing—or caring—if his boss could hear her.
Silence filled the line before the older man commented, “You do realize the partners are going to make a decision about the promotion soon.”
“I do.”
“You’ve worked hard for this, Jamison. I’d hate for you to lose out now when you’re so close. I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but you’re first in the running.”
“Why?”
“Well, we want to let all the candidates know at the same time—”
“No, I mean why am I first? Harris has seniority, and Martinez landed the Langstone account. So why me, Charles?”
“I don’t understand what you’re asking,” Spears said stiffly, but Jamison had a good idea the other man knew exactly why he was asking, just like Jamison knew exactly why the older man wasn’t answering.
“You can tell my father-in-law I said thanks but no, thanks.”
Jamison didn’t wait for his boss’s response before ending the call. He didn’t know for sure that his father-in-law had influenced his boss’s decision and would probably never know, but if he took the promotion, he would always wonder. But it was more than stubborn pride keeping him from accepting, more than a need to know that he’d earned the partnership on his own merit.
Taking the job would be taking a step backward—back to the man he’d been before he and Monica separated, back to the man he’d been before the accident, back to the man he’d been before Rory.
He didn’t want to go back. He wanted to go forward, to step toward a future that a few weeks ago, he wouldn’t have dreamed was possible.
* * *
Jamison paced his office impatiently, his hand tightly gripping the phone as he counted out the rings. “Come on, pick up.”
The masculine space with its solid furniture and shelves lined with law books used to be his sanctuary. But now he saw it for what it was. His hidey-hole.
He’d had to wait until Hannah went down for a nap after their impromptu daddy-daughter day to make this call, and he didn’t want to wait anymore. Just like he didn’t want to hide from his emotions anymore.
“Hi! Hello,” he almost shouted out a greeting when he heard the voice on the other end of the line. “It’s Jamison Porter, and I need your help.”
Silence answered his desperate plea before Evie McClaren asked, “Why exactly would I want to help you, Mr. Porter? You broke my cousin’s heart.”
His own heart gave a painful jerk at the thought of hurting Rory. “I know. I made a mistake. When my mother-in-law told me what happened—”
“You thought Rory was guilty.”
“No! Not really. Not once I had a chance to think about it. But Louisa sprang the information on me, and I was—I was blindsided by it.”
The same way he’d been blindsided by Monica. By coming home to find the house empty. To find Monica had left without a word and taken Hannah with her.
“It totally caught me off guard, Evie, and I didn’t handle it well. I know I was no better than her ass of an ex, who didn’t stand by her—”
“Stand by?” Sharp laughter pierced Jamison’s eardrum. “Is that what you think happened? You think Peter didn’t come to Rory’s defense when she needed him?”
Jamison swallowed, suddenly fearing whatever happened might have been so much worse. “Isn’t it?”
“Peter didn’t let Rory down. He set her up.”
“You mean he—you mean the boss’s son is the one who stole from their clients? And he framed Rory for it?”
“I don’t know if he was framing her or simply covering his tracks. But all of the proof—the online auctions, the storage shed, the emails—all of it traced back to Rory’s computer.”
Jamison swore under his breath. “How could he do that to her? When she trusted him—”
Like she trusted you? Like she counted on you to be there for her, to believe in her the way she believed in you from the very beginning?
Sick to his stomach, Jamison sank back into his chair.
“Guys are jerks,” Evie said succinctly. “Unfortunately, Rory was so shocked by the accusations, by the evidence planted against her, she didn’t realize until later Peter was the only one with that kind of access. And by then, it was too late. Anything she said would have seemed like she was simply trying to throw blame on someone else.
“Rory came here for a fresh start. Instead the stupid rumors followed her, and if that wasn’t bad enough, your mother-in-law had to show up—”
Jamison closed his eyes. “I have even more to make up for. So I’ll ask again, Evie. Will you help me?”
“What do you need me to do?” she asked, suspicion still underlining her words.
Even so, he felt the first kernel of hope start to sprout. “I’m looking for my very own fairy godmother.”
Evie let out a short scoff. “And you called me? Mr. Porter, you must be even more desperate than I thought.”
“You have no idea.”
* * *
“Oh, there you are, Rory.” Evie breathed out as she reached Rory’s side in the middle of the lobby. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
“Why? What’s going on?” Rory had tried to take her cousin’s words to heart, to believe her unshakable faith in people and her belief in happily-ever-after were her greatest strengths. But some days she felt like the only news was bad news.
It wasn’t easy dealing with so-in-love couples, with helping them make their wedding dreams come true, when her own heart was broken. She knew it wasn’t their fault. That they hadn’t somehow stolen her happiness and taken it for themselves. But she couldn’t help wondering how their relationships seemed to be smooth sailing when falling in love had left her beaten and broken, stranded on the ragged shoals.
Evie rolled her eyes but wouldn’t meet her gaze, her attention focused across the lobby. “Oh, you know. The usual. We’ve got some crazy-in-love guy who wants to plan an over-the-top, surprise proposal for his girlfriend. He’s waiting to meet with you at the gazebo to go over all the details.”
“A surprise engagement. Well, that could end badly...”
That statement caught Evie’s attention, and her cousin turned to meet her gaze. “Stop being so cynical. That’s my job. And something tells me this guy has nothing to worry about. So go!”
Great. Just what she didn’t want to deal with. A crazy-in-love fiancé-to-be gushing over the woman he loved.
Don’t make comparisons, she sternly warned herself. What you and Jamison had wasn’t love. Not really. Not on his part. Which is why you’re going to get over him...someday.
Catching sight of Trisha and her friends huddled near the concierge desk, Rory straightened her shoulders. First things first.
Surprise lit the other woman’s eyes when Rory walked toward the clique instead of hurrying by with her head ducked down as if she were invisible. No, worse...as if she were guilty.
Tell me it isn’t true, Rory. Tell me!
She’d been so sure he wouldn’t believe her. So afraid Jamison saw what
they had as some kind of escape from the real world. That his feelings for her weren’t strong enough to survive the challenges of everyday life. But the truth was, it wasn’t Jamison she hadn’t trusted.
“Trisha, I’d like a word with you.”
The redhead raised her sculpted eyebrows before glancing at her friends with a smug smile. “I’m kind of on break here.”
Rory met their laughter with a smile of her own. “Break’s over.”
The three other women exchanged startled glances before murmuring their goodbyes and heading off in opposite directions—hopefully to get back to doing their jobs.
Trisha huffed out a breath before demanding, “So what do you want?”
“There have been some rumors going around, rumors that might have been intended to hurt me, but that could end up hurting Hillcrest.”
Trisha blanched slightly, as if she hadn’t considered the more far-reaching consequences.
“This hotel has been in my family for decades, and I’m not going to let anyone damage its reputation. So if you—” The threat stalled in Rory’s throat as Evie’s words played through her memory. Her cousin was right. She did still have faith in people. “If you hear anyone spreading those rumors, I’m counting on you to help put a stop to them. You’ve worked here for years, and the staff looks up to you. I’m sure we won’t have any of these problems going forward, will we?”
Trisha blinked. “I, uh—no, no trouble,” she agreed, clearly startled by the turn of the conversation. “I’ll make sure none of those rumors get spread around.”
“Good.” Rory sighed with relief. “I’m glad to hear that.”
As Trisha hurried away, Rory straightened her shoulders and turned toward the lobby doors. One confrontation over, one more to go.
She’d avoided the gazebo in the week since Jamison left, but she couldn’t stay away any longer. Lindsay and Ryder’s wedding had brought even more attention to Hillcrest House, and Rory was fielding call after call from couples looking to plan their ceremonies there. More brides would say their vows framed by the elegantly scrolled woodwork.
But not Rory. Not when she couldn’t look at the graceful structure without thinking of Jamison... Picturing his sexy smile as he teased her about his abilities. Remembering the thoughtful way he’d included Hannah in the work... Torturing herself with the memory of making love in the moonlight...
Evie was right. Rory wasn’t going to give up. She still had faith that she would fall in love again, have a family of her own. But while her cousin admired her ability to get over Peter as quickly as she had, Rory didn’t think getting over Jamison would be nearly as easy.
The sun was sinking behind the horizon, painting the sky with a gorgeous pink-and-purple haze and casting a golden glow over the gazebo. The groom-to-be stood with his back to her, one foot on the first step and a hand braced on the railing. His tailored dark suit was a stark, masculine contrast to the delicately carved white spindles.
Rory’s heart seized at the sight. How long would it be before she stopped imagining Jamison in every tall, broad-shouldered man she saw?
“Good evening, I’m—” The introduction stuck in her throat as the man turned and the faint rays highlighted his face. “Not imagining things...”
“Hello, Rory.”
“What—what are you doing here?” she asked, still unable to believe he was real.
“Didn’t Evie tell you?” he asked.
“Yes! I’m meeting a man who’s planning to propose to his girlfriend at the gazebo. Which is why I can’t do this with you right now. He’ll probably be here any minute and—”
A small smile played around Jamison’s lips. “What?” Rory demanded.
“He’s here.”
Throwing her arms up in the air in frustration, she demanded, “Who’s here?”
“I’m here, Rory,” he told her.
“You—you’re—”
“I’m the guy who was an idiot not to trust you, not to fight for you. I’m the guy who couldn’t let go of the darkness of the past long enough to see the bright future right in front of him. I’m the guy who never should have left and the guy who will do anything it takes to convince you to forgive him.”
Tears flooded her eyes, but Rory quickly brushed them aside. After seven days, she was too starved for the sight of him to let anything get in the way. “Oh,” she said softly. “That guy.”
“That guy,” Jamison agreed. “The one who loves you. I love you, Rory. I love your openness, your faith in people, your willingness to see the best in them. In me, even when I probably didn’t deserve it.”
Rory blinked again, but nothing could keep the tears from spilling down her cheeks.
“I said it all wrong before, and you were right to turn me down. I don’t want a holiday or a weekend. I don’t want to reach for a phone when I want to talk to you at night. I want to reach for you.
“Evie told me what happened at your last job, but I didn’t need her to tell me the whole story. I know you wouldn’t have stolen from a client. I know you.” He shook his head. “I’ve been miserable since I left, Rory. Even after the partners at the firm offered me the promotion, I wasn’t happy.”
“You turned the partnership down?”
“Turned the partnership down and turned my resignation in.”
Rory’s jaw dropped in shock. “You...resigned?”
“The job wasn’t right for me, not anymore, and it was never what was best for Hannah.”
If Rory had ever had any doubt Jamison deserved all the faith and belief she’d had in him, his words brushed them away as easily—as tenderly—as he brushed away her tears.
“I can’t believe you quit.”
“Well, fortunately I won’t be unemployed for long. Turns out a lawyer over in Redfield is getting ready to retire and is looking to take on a partner.”
Rory wasn’t sure how much more her heart could take. “You mean you’d move here? To Clearville?”
Jamison shrugged a shoulder as if giving up his life in San Francisco to live in the small town was no big deal. “I’d move wherever you are. I missed you, Rory. Hannah missed you, too.” He smiled, but a hint of vulnerability reflected in his sterling gaze. “I realize I’ve sprung all this on you suddenly, but I’m hoping at least some of it has come as a good surprise.”
Realizing she’d been too shocked to do much more than echo what he’d told her, Rory reached up to cup his face in her hands. “Well, there is one problem.”
“Yeah, what’s that?”
“I came out here because Evie told me a man was looking to propose to the woman he loves...”
Turning his head, Jamison pressed a kiss to her palm before lowering to one knee. Despite what her cousin had told her, Rory still gasped when he pulled a small blue box from his suit pocket. “Rory McClaren, you might not be a princess, and I know you’re not a fairy godmother, but Hannah and I think you would make a wonderful stepmother.
“I love you, Rory. In such a short time, you’ve brought light and laughter back to both of our lives, and if I can spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you’ve made me over the past few weeks, I’ll be the luckiest man alive.”
Her heart ready to burst from her chest, Rory sank down in front of him and threw her arms around his neck. “I love you, Jamison Porter, and I can’t think of anything that would make me happier than to be your wife and Hannah’s stepmother. I’ve spent my whole life imagining the perfect wedding, but you’re the one who’s made my dreams come true. You’re the best man, the only man, for me.”
Epilogue
One year later
“That’s the fifth time you’ve looked at your watch in the last ten minutes,” Ryder murmured as he adjusted the cuff link on his tuxedo. “Is this my turn to remind you that it’s not too late?”
Jamison met his friend
’s cocky grin with a wry look. “Very funny.” And no less than he deserved now that their roles had been reversed. Now that Ryder was the best man and Jamison—
He sucked in a deep breath and ran a finger beneath the starched collar and bow tie. He was the groom.
“So no cold feet?”
No cold anything.
The summer day was perfect for a wedding. The sun shone down on the gleaming white gazebo with only a hint of clouds above, and the scent of roses carried from the garden on the warm breeze. Dozens of chairs lined either side of a lace runner as their friends and family had gathered to celebrate his marriage to Hillcrest House’s very own wedding coordinator.
Rory’s parents sat in the front row. So, too, somewhat surprisingly, did his parents. And Monica’s.
A lot could change in a year.
“I’m not nervous,” he insisted. Despite the way the second hand on his watch seemed to move in slow motion and the bow tie threatened to cut off all the air to his lungs, the words were true.
He’d been waiting for this moment—for this woman, for Rory—his entire life. He didn’t want to wait anymore.
His heart jumped in his chest as the familiar music began to play, and his wait was over. Oohs and aahs rose from their guests as they caught sight of Hannah, looking like an angel in her lacy white dress, and a huge grin split Jamison’s face at the overwhelming rush of emotion he felt for his daughter.
She met his grin with a dimpled smile of her own. A flowered crown perched on her riot of curls was already slightly askew, and a white wicker basket swung from side to side as she skipped down the aisle, remembering to drop a rose petal or two on the way.
The music swelled, and Jamison’s breath caught as the guests all rose to their feet. But then at his very first glimpse of Rory in wedding white, the rest of the world fell away.
He’d told her once that he didn’t believe in fairy tales, and in a way, that was still true. Because this was no fantasy, no game of pretend, no story that would come to an end on the final page. The emotions pouring through him as Rory climbed the gazebo steps and placed her hand in his were as solid and as real and as lasting as anything he could ever hope to build.
The Best Man Takes a Bride Page 19
