True North

by Amy Knupp

  “She asked me to come check on you and apologize for her not coming out to say hello. Those girls…” Mr. Lowell shook his head. “They look breathtaking to me, every last one of them, but they’re in there adjusting their makeup, checking out their hair for the tenth time, fussing over every last thing. As women do.”

  “As women do,” Cole said, not that he’d know personally. His mom had always been practical about her appearance, taking care of it but never fussy. He had no sisters, only one female cousin, and when it came to the women he spent time with, he never let it get that intimate that he’d know how they lived.

  “I understand you agreed to come last minute,” Mr. Lowell said. “Appreciate you helping her out.” Cole listened for some kind of judgment or disapproval in the man’s voice but didn’t detect any.

  “No problem,” Cole said, then reached deep for his rusty conversation skills. “How long are you in town for?”

  “We fly back to Arizona on Monday. We’ve been here for a week and I’m going to need a month’s vacation to recover from all the wedding prep.”

  “Seems like a lot of work,” Cole said, thinking how stressed out Sierra had been all week. She’d taken the day off yesterday, as well, which she didn’t do often, if ever. It seemed to him, if you wanted to get married, elopement was the way to go.

  They discussed the October weather and the elaborate historical features of the sanctuary, Cole wondering to himself what the chances were of it bursting into spontaneous flames when he walked in to be seated. Sierra’s dad seemed like a decent enough guy who’d made Cole relax a degree or two in the five-minute conversation—that was, until he shook hands again, preparing to find his older daughter to walk her down the aisle, and threw out there, “I trust you’ll keep it business with Sierra tonight. Nice meeting you.”

  Mr. Lowell walked off, summoned by his wife, before Cole could reply. There wasn’t much to say to that anyway. Of course he’d keep it as business as he could. He wasn’t stupid. But the message was clear and hard to ignore anyway—Wayne Lowell had determined, accurately, within minutes what Cole already knew. Cole would never be right for Sierra, even if he wanted to be.

  Chapter Four

  “That’s a wrap, folks,” the photographer said to the rowdy, happy wedding party after finishing the last of the formal post-wedding shots. “See you at the reception.”

  “Head directly to the Wentworth,” Sierra said to the group, conveying what the wedding coordinator had asked her to before heading off to the hotel ballroom to make sure everything was as it should be. “The party’s already started, so don’t waste any time.”

  “Need help with anything, hon?” Sierra’s mom asked, her dad hovering next to her, all smiles.

  “Just get to the party and make sure everything’s good.”

  Her mom nodded as she retrieved her bag from the front pew. “I’m sure Burke’s people have it under control—”

  “They better,” her dad said good-naturedly of the owner of the Wentworth Hotel—and one of Hunter’s groomsmen—with a hint of for what we’re paying them in his voice.

  “We’re on it,” her mom said, her cocoa-colored eyes radiating happiness as she linked her arm with her husband’s. “We’ll leave right away.”

  Behind Sierra, Kennedy swore softly, and Sierra whirled around to see her fiddling with the clasp of her necklace at her nape.

  “Language,” Ivy sang out from halfway down the aisle at her fiancé Burke’s side, on their way out. “You’re in a church.”

  “Oops,” Kennedy said. She dropped her arms to her sides and appealed to Sierra. “My damn necklace is caught in my hair.”

  “I’ve got this,” Sierra said to Asia and Violet, the other two bridesmaids, who’d swooped in to help. “You guys go ahead.” To Kennedy, she said, “Turn around.”

  “Good luck,” her sister said as she turned as ordered. “There’s so much spray my hair is concrete. Do you still have those scissors somewhere?”

  “I’m not cutting your hair,” Sierra said calmly. She stretched up to get a good look and had the hair loose within seconds. “There.” She guided Kennedy back around to face her, met her sister’s hazel eyes, her makeup still perfect and more pronounced than usual. “You’re gorgeous. Still. The limo is outside waiting for you and Hunter. Your bag is in the limo. Everything is taken care of.”

  “You, sister-in-law,” Hunter said as he sidled up behind his wife, both his hands winding around Kennedy’s waist, “are a godsend for keeping my beautiful wife mostly calm. Thanks for all you’ve done.”

  “This is calm? I don’t feel calm,” Kennedy said, her pitch rising.

  “Did you see Violet two months ago at her wedding?” Hunter asked. “This is calm.”

  “I heard that,” Violet called as she and her new husband, Nick, headed out.

  Sierra nodded, having been a guest at Violet’s wedding. “He has a point. Between sister duty and maid-of-honor duty, I’ve got you covered.”

  “Thank you.” Kennedy pulled Sierra into a hug. As they held on, Hunter pressed a kiss to the top of Sierra’s head and moved away. “Someday I’ll return the favor,” Kennedy said.

  “It’ll be a while,” Sierra said dryly. “Like, decades.”

  “Whenever.” Kennedy backed away and discreetly swiped at her eye. “These damn tears…”

  “You’re still in a church,” Sierra said, laughing. “Let’s get out of here before your mouth gets you struck down. I need to find Cole.”

  “I’ll meet you in the narthex,” Hunter told his wife as he hurried out the side door. “Two minutes.”

  Sierra grabbed her bag and her purse from the pew, which the wedding coordinator had brought out after the ceremony, and as she and Kennedy made their way back down the aisle, they could see—and hear—the rest of the wedding party gathered near the outside doors, getting ready to leave.

  “Everyone looks amazing,” Kennedy said, gazing at her group of friends from afar. “I’m lucky to have these people in my life.”

  “They’re good ones. What’d you think of the ceremony?”

  “I barely remember it,” Kennedy said.

  “They got video, right?”

  “Hope so. It’s the only chance I have of experiencing the details.” Kennedy wove her arm through Sierra’s.

  “The vows were awesome. You definitely need to hold Hunter to the no-dirty-socks-on-the-floor thing.”

  “I’d try to get it in writing, but saying it in a church has even more power, right?”

  As they hit the doorway from the sanctuary to the outer room, Sierra darted a glance around, searching for Cole. When she spotted him to the right, leaning against the wall, reading something on his phone, oblivious to their entry, her step faltered and her eyes popped wide open.

  Kennedy, still holding on to her, paused as well and followed Sierra’s line of sight. In a voice that only Sierra could hear, she said, “He cleans up well.”

  That was an understatement.

  “Who knew?” Sierra muttered. Yes, she’d spotted him briefly right before the ceremony, but she’d been sidetracked and certainly hadn’t had a chance to linger over him and appreciate the pretty picture he made.

  “You should. Don’t you work with him every day?” her sister said.

  “He wears a T-shirt and old jeans.” And as a rule, she didn’t allow herself to think about his appearance beyond that. He was her employee, and she didn’t consider the men she worked with to be dating prospects, period. While she and her BFF, Hayden, did plenty of looking and sizing up and even sampling when they went out, Sierra’s agenda at work was altogether different, her mind-set that of the day’s goals, to-do lists, and challenges.

  Now she took a moment to really look at him. Cole wore a black suit with a white shirt and a gray and black tie, one shoulder supporting his weight on the wall, his gaze zeroed in on his phone. He was good-looking in a rough, hard-living way, with dark hair he kept cut military short, caramel-colored eyes t
hat had an edge to them most days, and a seriousness it was sometimes hard to break through. From here, she thought she spotted a cut above his eye, not fresh, but he hadn’t had it Thursday at work.

  His body was chiseled and solid, the kind earned from a physically demanding job instead of a gym. The suit smoothed out some of the rough edges, but even though Sierra had registered his appeal on some superficial level in the past, this was the first time she’d seen him in this context—as the guy who’d be at her side all night, the guy whose arms she’d be in for dancing.

  He looked up and met her gaze, his normally scruffy jaw clean-shaven, and when his lips slid into a slight grin, she felt it in her chest.

  He straightened, slid his phone into his pocket, and Sierra stood there not moving, not taking her gaze off him, momentarily stunned stupid, like a bird that flew into a window and found itself on the ground, trying to figure out what had happened.

  “Are you ready to go, Mrs. Clayborne?” Hunter’s question to Kennedy as he approached them pulled Sierra out of her stupor, and she held her sister’s arm out to him as if hand-delivering his bride.

  “Kennedy Clayborne,” Sierra said, thinking it sounded just right, as Hunter swept in and took Kennedy’s hand. “I’ll see you two lovebirds at the Wentworth.”

  When she turned toward Cole again, he was only steps away.

  “Hey,” he said, walking toward her, and again, that half grin flirted with his lips—lips that she’d never really noticed but that now she couldn’t help wondering how they’d feel…

  Sierra shook the thought away. “Hi, Cole.” She tried extra-hard to put some business-as-usual into her tone.

  “You look stunning,” he said, and business-as-usual took a hard falter.

  “Thank you. You look good yourself. Are you ready to go?”

  “You’re the boss.” He paused, blew out a short, amused breath. “In more ways than one.”

  That was something she definitely needed to keep in mind, but then, as they turned toward the door, he pressed his hand to her lower back, trailed it lightly to the outside of her waist, and she was hyperconscious of the feel of him through the thin material of her dress. Her body reacted deep within, her hormones clicking into the yes, please position, and then, as they walked, he was so close that she caught his scent—clean, masculine, with a hint of spice to it.

  Cole was turning her inside out without even trying, and that was a big, fat problem.

  “You made it through the ceremony,” she said, and she was pretty sure it was the lamest thing she could’ve come up with.

  “Nothing to it. Pretty short and sweet.”

  He opened the heavy outer door and held it for her, his hand still on her waist, and they went out into the cool fall evening.

  “My truck’s over there.” He pointed to a coveted spot along the curb, halfway down the block, unnecessary since she knew his bright blue Ram extended-cab pickup well.

  Sierra gathered her long dress in one hand so she didn’t trip—she didn’t often wear heels and was much happier in her sturdy work boots—and as they made their way down the front steps, she held on to his arm with her other hand. She couldn’t miss the strength of his corded forearm, even through the material of his suit and shirt, and she silently scolded herself for noticing.

  Cole was off-limits. She did not fraternize with the men on her crew. Black-and-white issue. It was hard enough to be taken seriously as a woman in the construction field without opening herself up to any kind of romantic ties with someone who worked for her. Her grandpa, who’d mentored her from the time she hit double digits and was allowed on jobsites, had drilled that into her head even before she’d had the slightest interest in the opposite sex. Not once had she veered from the advice, either back when she worked for his company or after his death, when he’d left the business in her hands.

  Tonight, of course, was the single exception to her rule, and it had been a frantic decision made without enough thought at the end of the stressful pre-wedding week, when she’d worked so hard to shoulder a lot of her sister’s burden. She was grateful Cole had stepped in after Kevin let her down, and she’d lain awake last night pondering the ramifications of going out with one of her employees but had told herself she could handle it just fine. Maybe she’d been wrong.

  They didn’t speak on the walk to the truck. When they arrived, he helped her up into the passenger seat, and she almost succeeded in not noticing his strong, calloused, capable hands.

  Once he closed her in, she took a deep, shaky breath and got things straight in her head. They weren’t a couple. This was a one-time thing that would end up with her going home alone. Cole was merely doing her a favor. She shut her eyes for a moment and summoned her construction boss self, forgetting about the long column of silky material that said otherwise.

  The driver’s door opened, Cole climbed up, and the space shrunk, but Sierra was determined now. Determined not to act awkward and determined not to make Cole uneasy. They had several more hours together, and it would be rough enough for Cole, having to meet extended family and longtime friends. She strived to act normal, as if they were working together on a project.

  “Did you check out the architecture in there?” she asked, eyeing the majestic bell tower as he started the engine and pulled out.

  “It was impressive.” He gave a half laugh. “I wondered if you had time to eyeball it. Bet you were itching to run your hands over those rails around the altar.”

  “The details were incredible. And the columns…”

  He nodded. “Did you notice the detail on the main doors?”

  “The ones that must have weighed a hundred pounds each?”

  “Had to be original. Mortise-and-tenon construction.”

  “Agree,” she said as her phone dinged from inside her purse, signaling a text message. She dug it out as Cole turned into the parking garage at the Wentworth, a five-minute drive from the church.

  The message was from Hayden, who’d been invited to the wedding but was out of town for a trade show on the East Coast.

  Know you’re busy but I need a full report on the wedding when you can.

  Sierra typed out a reply. You caught me between the ceremony and reception. Kennedy is officially a missus!

  Hayden replied with a bride and groom emoji and Tell her congrats from me and I hate that I’m missing it.

  I will, even though she won’t remember it.

  More importantly, how’s your date?

  Sierra texted, Fake date. Next to me.

  Send me a pic please. And drink champagne for me too.

  Demanding wench! But okay times two.

  As she pushed send, Cole parked the truck and killed the engine. “Ready?” he asked.

  “I’ll leave my big bag here.”

  Cole got out and came around to her side. She was stuffing her bag behind the seat when he opened her door. He held out his hand to help her down, and Sierra took it, trying not to think too hard about it, forcing her mind to reception details.

  “As soon as we get inside,” she said, “I need to take a selfie of you and me for Hayden. Remind me or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

  “I’ll take a photo of you.”

  “Nice try but nope.”

  They entered the historical hotel and made their way across the marble-floored lobby toward the ballroom. She waved at Mariana, the night manager, who was behind the check-in desk helping another employee. As they approached the ballroom door, the din grew louder.

  Sierra paused just outside the closed door. “You ready for this?”

  “Scared shitless,” he said with that semi-grin again.

  “Smart man.” She grabbed the handle and opened the door and the sound of a couple hundred people all talking at once washed over them.

  They stepped inside and Sierra stopped to take everything in. Even though she’d been here earlier this afternoon and seen it when it was nearly ready, it still took her breath away.

  The sp
rawling ballroom looked almost unrecognizable and had become a lot smaller and more intimate with so many people inside. It had been transformed into a midnight-blue and silver wonderland, with dim, blue-tinted lighting and strings of white fairy lights everywhere. White floral centerpieces surrounded by multiple silver votives contrasted with the dark blue tablecloths on the round dinner tables, where some guests were already seated. The dessert and gift tables to the left of where they stood were skirted with dark blue velvet and tasteful decorations in silver and white, and though she couldn’t see the two bars because of the hordes of people, she knew they matched. The whole thing was romantic, understated, classy yet unpretentious. It fit Kennedy and Hunter perfectly.

  She scanned the room for the bride, and there, across the way with Hunter, near the bridal party table, Sierra spotted her, thanks to her own towering shoes. Shoes that were likely to kill her before the end of the night. She exhaled in relief that her sister was here and things were underway just as they should be. As she stepped forward to head into the crowd, Cole grasped her arm and stopped her.

  “You wanted a photo?” he said into her ear so she could hear him, and something about his deep voice that close sent a shiver through her.

  She ignored it and pulled out her phone, relieved he’d reminded her before she found a place to put her tiny sequined purse, out of sight and out of her way.

  “How are you at selfies?” she asked him.

  “Never done one.”

  “What?” She looked to see if he was serious, and it appeared he was. Cole was usually serious, and he never mentioned any kind of social life, though surely he had one. She figured he just wasn’t the type to share personal details.

  “Novice,” he confirmed. “Sure you don’t want me to just take your picture?”

  “Nice try again.” She opened the camera app and turned it to selfie mode, then handed it to him. “It’s easier to use the side button.”