by Lee McKenzie
Of course he did. If there was one thing she knew about Paul, it was that he would do anything for his friends.
CJ straggled into the kitchen, yawning, and waved at the coffeemaker. “Too early. Need coffee. Is this the real thing?”
“Decaf,” Emily said.
“There’s regular coffee in the carafe. Have a seat and I’ll get it.”
CJ ignored her, took a mug from the cupboard and filled it. “You’re very sweet, but I can pour my own coffee.”
“You can pour mine, too. I don’t feel like getting up,” Emily said, and then turned to CJ as she settled onto the stool beside her. “I was telling Annie that Paul’s coming this morning to help with setup.”
“Such a great guy.” CJ paused to gulp coffee. “Hard to believe he’s still single.”
And let the matchmaking begin, Annie thought. Out loud she said, “Since you’re so taken with him, I’ll let you oversee the setup while I organize the centerpieces.”
“Can’t,” CJ said. “I have to get to the stable and check on the horses. That’ll keep me busy until it’s time to get our hair done.”
“Don’t look at me,” Emily said. “I’ll be too busy being queen for the day.”
Their schemes to put her and Paul together were blatantly transparent and she should feel annoyed with them, but her traitorous heart was suddenly aflutter and her low spirits lifted. She set a skillet on the stove, took out eggs, milk and bread for French toast. She wouldn’t give her meddling sisters the satisfaction by telling them this, but if she got breakfast out of the way now, she would have time to change her clothes and fix her makeup before Paul arrived.
* * *
PAUL EXCHANGED A look and a nod with Jack as they stood with the minister in the Finnegans’ gazebo, facing the group of family and friends seated on the sweep of lawn along the riverbank. Ordinarily they would’ve given one another a one-armed hug and a back pat, but the occasion felt too formal for that. He didn’t think he’d ever been happier for his buddy, or more envious. As always, Jack appeared calm and self-assured, and Paul knew it wasn’t an act. Riverton’s chief of police was as solid as they came. And he was marrying one of the Finnegan sisters, which also made him one of the luckiest guys alive.
At the stroke of four o’clock, Fred pressed Play on the portable music system set up behind the gazebo. The strains of Pachelbel’s Canon in D filled the air, its melody soothing to the spirit and just a little haunting to the soul. The wedding party appeared as if out of nowhere. CJ and Rose walked, with Isaac between them, along a narrow carpet forming an aisle between the chairs. Annie followed them, wearing the most incredible dress he’d ever seen. Or maybe it wasn’t the dress. Maybe it was simply her. She could make anything look incredible.
And then the bride and her father appeared. Happiness radiated from her as she pushed his chair along the carpeted aisle. Among those gathered, Paul noticed more than a few of them reaching for tissues. As the bridesmaids and ring bearer climbed the steps, Emily wheeled her father into place in the front row next to Libby, then bent to kiss his cheek. Jack went down the steps, shook hands with Thomas, then tucked his bride’s hand into the crook of his arm and led her into the gazebo to face the minster.
Paul glanced at Annie. Their gazes met and held for several heart-stopping seconds, and then she looked away as she reached for her sister’s bouquet.
Later, from what he could remember of the ceremony, it was traditional and, happily, quite short. Several of the minister’s quips created ripples of laughter, others brought on a few tears. The bride and groom had written their own vows, and it was somewhat surprising that Jack’s words generated the strongest reaction. As he spoke about finding a life and catching a wife here in Riverton, Paul even found himself tearing up.
What he remembered most, though, was Annie, standing next to the bride, her deep blue, knee-length dress emphasizing an hour-glass figure, the square neckline forming a frame for a sapphire pendant that lay against a backdrop of ivory skin. He prided himself in being a practical man, yet as these images of Annie registered in his mind and transformed into thoughts, he was startled to find they were almost poetic.
He couldn’t take his eyes off her, and he liked that she kept glancing his way. Sometimes hastily before looking away with a flutter of long lashes, but other times their gazes held for long seconds at a time. He couldn’t wait to sit with her at dinner, to dance with her once the music started. For now, as the happy couple were pronounced husband and wife and the rousing notes of Mendelssohn’s “Wedding March” filled the air, he offered his arm to Annie. She accepted with a slim hand and a ready smile, and as they followed Emily and Jack down the stairs, he was content with the knowledge that the evening was just getting started.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
ANNIE HAD GIVEN her toast to the bride before dinner and now she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so relaxed and—yes, she could say it—so happy. The food was wonderful. She had offered to do the catering herself but Emily and Jack graciously declined, insisting they wanted her to enjoy the wedding, not work at it. She was more than grateful they had.
The tables had been draped with white linen and set with silver-rimmed white china and silver flatware and elegant stemware provided by the caterers. Emily wanted some fall color so Annie had helped her make the centerpieces—shallow white vases filled with bunches of yellow and orange and gold chrysanthemums, and decorated with blue satin ribbon that matched the bridesmaids’ dresses.
She and Paul were seated next to one another at the head table, and she now appreciated CJ for stepping aside as maid of honor and insisting Annie take on the role instead. Her meddlesome sisters were being matchmakers, no question about it. This morning they had come up with reasons to excuse themselves from setup, which had left her to work with Paul and Fred. Given that Fred had kept making himself scarce, he had obviously been in on the plan. If Paul noticed, he was either too polite or too mortified to say anything.
Tonight, he was being attentive, charming, polite. “More water?”
“I’d love some.”
He tipped the pitcher and filled her glass. “I’ve been following your Ask Annie posts on Emily’s blog. They’re good. Really good.”
“So you expect me to believe Paul Woodward, the dedicated doctor, is interested in chickens?” she asked. “And eggs?”
His smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “I am now. If I wasn’t being a best man this weekend, I’d be home building a chicken coop.”
“Now you’re making fun of me.”
“The dedicated doctor is guilty as charged.”
“Touché. Seriously, though, I know how busy you are at the clinic and at home with your dad, so I’m surprised you’d find time to read Ask Annie.”
He gave her a long, thoughtful look. “Apparently I’m not alone. There were forty-seven comments on your story about the chickens.”
“I know.” She couldn’t keep the excitement out of her voice. “It’s unbelievable. People I don’t even know, people from places I’ve never been, like Eugene and Sarasota, were saying how much they liked my photographs and the stories about my silly chickens.”
“The photographs are good, Annie. Really professional.”
“That’s not possible. I’m not a photographer. I’ve never owned a camera until Emily gave me hers.”
“Then you’re a natural with an eye for color and composition.”
She felt herself blushing. “I don’t know about that, and I have no idea what I’m going to do for this week’s column. I’ve been so busy with the wedding.”
“I think you just found your answer. You were taking pictures while we were setting up this morning. I bet you’ll find a few gems in there.”
“From chickens to weddings?” she asked. “Won’t that seem strange?”
&nb
sp; “Small-town living is the theme of Emily’s blog, right? That covers a lot of territory.”
He was right. That’s exactly what she would do, and of course Emily’s fans would love to see photographs of her wedding. With that settled, she should probably take a few photographs now that the reception was in full swing. “Excuse me for a few minutes?” she asked. “I’m going to dash inside and get my camera.”
He stood, always the gentleman, and helped her to her feet, holding her hand a beat longer than necessary. “I’ll be right here when you get back.”
She hurried into the house, brushing the tips of her fingers over the back of the hand he had held, hoping dinner would be over soon. Traditionally, the maid of honor’s first dance was with the best man. She couldn’t wait for the music to start.
In the kitchen, she pulled the camera from the desk drawer where she kept her laptop, address book and calendar for the B&B. She turned on the camera and quickly scrolled through the photographs she’d taken while she and Paul and Fred had arranged tables and chairs inside the tent. She had captured some nice close-up images of the flowers and the elegant place settings but, to her chagrin, Paul was in most—no, make that all of the wide-angle photographs. Fred had made it into only one.
Her face felt flushed. Was she really so focused on her husband’s best friend that she had unconsciously pointed the camera at him every time she’d snapped a picture? The truth was...she didn’t know what the truth was. She still loved Eric. Yes, she was angry with him for not taking better care of himself, for leaving her alone, but she missed him like crazy.
Paul had been his friend, but he was rapidly becoming her best friend, too. A closer friend than they’d been during and after high school. She enjoyed his company. He made it okay for her to share stories about Eric, to admit to being overprotective with Isaac. He made it okay to laugh again. But if she was being honest with herself, she loved the way he made her feel cared for, admired and capable of accomplishing things she never would have tried on her own. Emily had her own reasons for wanting her to write the Ask Annie column on her blog, but Paul simply believed in her.
She turned off the camera and returned to the reception as the emcee, Logan Kane, stood and welcomed everyone. He was a friend of the groom’s, a detective with the Chicago PD as Jack himself had once been. He was every bit as tall and good-looking as the groom, with the same confident stance all police officers seemed to possess.
“Good evening. Emily and Jack hope you enjoyed the meal—I know I certainly did—but now they think it’s time to get this party started. Before we do, the bride and groom are going to cut the cake, but I think there’s another matter we need to attend to.” He picked up his dinner knife and tapped the edge of his glass several times. Most of the guests enthusiastically joined in.
Annie watched her sister and her new brother-in-law share an intimate smile, then Jack stood, drew Emily to her feet, put his arms around her waist. She wound hers around his neck, and then he gave her a long, deliberate kiss.
Annie’s gaze involuntarily swept the space and found Paul. He was watching her, his gaze so intense that even from a distance, her skin warmed and her heart fluttered. Amid the applause for the bride and groom, she made her way to her seat next to Paul. There would be no kissing in her foreseeable future but tonight she would dance.
* * *
THE BRIDE AND groom waltzed across the small dance floor to the melody of an Etta James classic. And while Jack’s lonely days were over, Paul wasn’t so sure that would ever be the case for him. He also sensed Annie was expecting him to invite her onto the dance floor. He had a different idea.
He stood and offered his hand. “Take a walk with me?”
“Oh.” If she was disappointed, she quickly recovered. “Sure. I’d like that. A stroll by the river is always nice on an evening like this.”
Perfect. The river walk ended at the gazebo, which was the destination he’d had in mind all along. He could see it from the sweeping lawn in front of the house, where the huge tent and makeshift dance floor had been set up, its outline strung with tiny white lights, beckoning.
Annie accepted his hand and he helped her to her feet. The air had cooled after the sun had set, so he pulled her shawl off the back of her chair and wrapped it around her shoulders.
“The bridesmaids’ dresses are an amazing color,” he said. “The three of you look great.”
“Thanks. Emily picked out the dresses for us and I love that she chose a different style for each of us. I wasn’t sure about this shade of blue, but she insisted. She wanted something that would stand out against the fall foliage, and Jack’s favorite color is blue.”
“Blue is every guy’s favorite color,” he said.
“Noted,” she said, laughing.
Noted. He wondered what she meant, but didn’t ask. “The ceremony was nice,” he said instead. “Simple, traditional, not too long.”
“And this was the perfect place for it, here in the gazebo. So many memories.”
He wondered if she was thinking about the night her husband had proposed to her here, but her thoughts seemed to have taken a different track.
“My sisters and I used to play down here. We’d pretend the gazebo was a fort, a castle, a church, even a spaceship, and we would spend afternoons playacting one dramatic scene or another. Emily was usually the one to dream them up—she always had such a wild imagination. When Fred was old enough to ride his bike out from town, we co-opted him into being the groom for our wedding skits. At one time or another he was married to all three of us.”
Lucky guy, Paul thought. He’d settle for one Finnegan sister. “And now Fred seems to have a thing for Rose,” he said.
“I’ve noticed. I’m not sure she has, though.”
“I spoke with her earlier,” he said. “Asked her how she’s settling into life in Riverton. She had just stopped at the bar to have her gin and tonic refilled. She seemed a little tipsy.”
“CJ mentioned that as well. I hadn’t noticed.”
“Did she drive out here?” he asked.
“She did. If she doesn’t want to spend the night with us, I’ll make sure she gets a ride back into town.”
“I’ll be happy to take her.”
“That’s sweet of you. I’ll check with her when we get back to the party and let you know.”
Right now Paul was in no hurry to get back to the reception.
As they approached the gazebo, Annie stopped and looked up at it. “It’s so pretty with all these lights. With the ceremony being in the afternoon, I wasn’t sure why Emily wanted them. Now I know.” She reached for his hand. “Let’s go inside and sit.”
He hadn’t anticipated her touch and it literally took his breath away. He walked with her up the steps and they sat together on the circular bench lining the perimeter, facing the farmhouse on the hill. Light filtered through its curtained windows. The big white tent on the lawn was aglow with soft lights and laughter. The dance floor was alive with swirling couples. They could hear the music from here—Frank Sinatra’s “Fly Me to the Moon,” the song he had asked the DJ to add to his playlist. Paul stood and reached for her. “Dance with me?”
Annie drifted into his arms, placed one hand in his, the other on his shoulder. “I thought maybe you didn’t want to dance with me.”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because when the music started, you asked me to go for a walk instead.”
“And yet here we are,” he said softly against her hair. Here we are.
For the first few steps, she felt stiff and uncomfortable and he held her awkwardly. Gradually, they both relaxed and found an easy rhythm that didn’t involve anyone’s toes being stepped on. Part way through the song he heard her sigh, sensed she might even have closed her eyes. He eased her a little closer and she didn’t resis
t. By the closing chorus, her cheek had touched his shoulder and his rested on the top of her head. He held her even after the song ended, and she let him. Neither of them spoke and, for once, he felt words were not necessary. After that first awkward, accidental kiss, she had said she needed a friend but she wasn’t ready for anything more. He had accepted that and agreed it would be best for things to stay as they were. He would have agreed to anything if meant he could keep seeing her. But standing here with her in his arms, this was more than friends. This was a turning point in their relationship. He needed to move carefully, he knew that, but he also knew he needed to make a move. It was now or never.
He shifted his weight and she responded by leaning away a little and looking up at him.
“We should probably get back before we’re missed,” she said.
“There’s just one thing,” he replied.
“What’s that?”
“This.”
He took his time lowering his mouth to hers. The accidental kiss a few weeks ago had caught them both off guard and come dangerously close to interfering with their friendship. This time he didn’t want there to be any question that he wanted to be more than a friend. Her lashes fluttered but she didn’t back away.
The instant their lips met and held, and when she slipped her arms around his neck, he decided she’d been worth waiting for. Finally kissing Annie for real and on purpose was heaven. Having her kiss him in return was a miracle. He knew this—whatever this was—wasn’t going to go any further tonight, and probably not for many nights to come. For this night, though, it was enough and he didn’t want it to end.
Annie had other ideas.
“Paul,” she said, part gasping for breath and part whisper. “What is this?”
“This...” He touched his lips to hers, lightly, one last time. “This is what I’d call an incredible first kiss.”
She gave him a quizzical look.
“In fact...” He smiled down at her. “As first kisses go, on a scale of one to ten, that was an eleven.”
