Falling for Mr. Right: Still the One ; His Proposal, Their Forever

by Michelle Major

  She grinned wryly. “Your kisses aren’t too bad.”

  Justin thought that might be an invitation, but she moved to the other side of the viewing plaza. He followed her. “You can’t leave me hanging.”

  “Was just making a comment about your talents. Remember what we said.”

  “No kisses.”

  “How about a peck?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “Semantics.”

  He wrapped an arm around her back. “So you’ll let this amazing view go to waste.”

  “If we’re kissing, we can’t see the view.” She scooted away. “You don’t give up.”

  “Neither do you.”

  A thoughtful expression formed on her face. She stared at the horizon with a faraway look in her eyes. “Guess we have more in common than I realized.”

  “We’ll have even more after Buddy gets released.”

  She half laughed. “Better enjoy your final day of freedom, Dad.”

  “You, too, surrogate Mom.”

  “We’re almost a family.” Her eyes widened, as if she hadn’t meant to say the words aloud. “Well, a little like one.”

  “Yes. We will be.” For as long as he was here. The idea appealed to him on a gut level. “Until I came to Haley’s Bay and met you, I had no idea what family was all about. I’m glad I met you, Bailey, and a few of the other Coles.”

  “Let’s hope you feel the same way when you leave town.”

  He rubbed his face. “Still worried your brothers might mess up my face?”

  “No.” A wicked gleam lit her eyes. “That I will.”

  “Guess I’ll take a rain check on those kisses.”

  “Smart thinking.”

  “I try.” But he had to try harder when he was around her.

  Buddy, Bailey and him. A family. Justin had to admit, the idea appealed to him. Too bad the Broughton Inn had to get in the way. And her family.

  * * *

  Two days later, Justin sat on Bailey’s couch with Buddy at his feet. They’d come straight from the vet clinic that morning.

  Best. Dog. Ever.

  All dog owners probably thought that about their pet, but in Justin’s case the words were true. Buddy was amazing. Still recovering, but now clean and fresh-smelling, as well as flea-free.

  And most important, happy.

  Buddy seemed thrilled to be inside, have toys to play with, his own doggy bed, food and a kick-ass colorful collar that Bailey had picked out at the pet store in Astoria. A part of Justin wished he were staying here instead of the B and B. But that had as much to do with Bailey as Buddy.

  “You are such a good dog,” Justin said. “A lucky one, too.”

  Buddy stared at Justin with big brown eyes and a look of total adoration. The dog panted, wagged his tail. Not even the cone bothered him.

  “Sorry, boy. No more treats.” Justin had learned within five minutes of arriving at Bailey’s that Buddy could sit and lie down and shake. Food was the best motivator for the tricks, but the dog didn’t seem to have an off switch when it came to eating. “You’ll get a tummy ache.”

  The dog made a noise that resembled a whine.

  Smart dog, but spoiled already. “Cry all you want. I’m not changing my mind.”

  Buddy looked at him, then lay down on the throw rug, not quite defeated. It was more like that he wanted to rest up for his next round of treats and rubs.

  Yeah, one smart dog.

  Bailey stepped through the kitchen doorway, a cup of strawberry lemonade in her hand. “Thought you might be thirsty.

  She knew him well. Justin smiled. “I am.”

  “How’s Buddy doing?”

  “Great. Explored the living and dining room. Did a few tricks. Ate too many treats.”

  Bailey shot an accusing glance Justin’s way. “Whose fault is that?”

  He took the glass from her. “Just making sure he’s comfortable.”

  “Looks right at home.”

  “Yeah, he does.” Justin wanted to spend lots of time with Buddy so the dog was used to him before they went to Lincoln City. “Figured out in the first two minutes that he’s addicted to petting. Thought I should warn you, one or two rubs aren’t enough for my pup.”

  “If Buddy didn’t know that before, he knows it now.”

  Justin sipped the lemonade. Tasty. Was there anything Bailey couldn’t do well?

  Buddy’s ears perked up. He sat, looked at the front door, barked once.

  “What is it?” Justin asked the dog.

  The doorbell rang.

  Bailey gave him a pat, then walked toward the door. “Good, Buddy.”

  “Knew he was a great dog.” Justin was finding something new to love about Buddy every five minutes. “Expecting company?”

  “No, but that doesn’t mean someone won’t drop by.” She opened the door.

  “Surprise,” a group of people shouted.

  Buddy barked.

  Justin looked over his shoulder. A crowed gathered on the front porch. He recognized a few—Grady, Ellis, Risa, Lilah and Ida Mae. The others, including a couple of cute kids, resembled the people he knew. It looked as though the Cole family had come calling. They’d brought food and gifts.

  “What’s going on?” Bailey asked.

  Risa beamed. “When I had to take Skippy back to the vet the other day, one of the techs mentioned Justin was adopting the dog you’d found and the receptionist said the dog would be staying with you so I thought a doggy shower was in order. So here we are with gifts and food.”

  Bailey’s face paled. She clutched the doorknob. None of her family seemed to pay attention to her as they walked in, making themselves right at home.

  As usual.

  Justin held on to Buddy’s collar. The dog sniffed the air but seemed content to stay near him. No growling or barks, just watchful eyes.

  Two children, a boy and a girl, ran up. “Can we pet your dog?”

  He remembered what Bailey had done yesterday when they found Buddy. “Put your hand out and let him sniff you.”

  They did.

  Buddy licked each of their hands.

  The girl giggled.

  The boy pulled his hand back. “That tickles.”

  Buddy raised his paw so the little boy would shake.

  “Wow.” The boy’s eyes widened to the size of silver dollars. “That’s one smart dog.”

  “Can we play with him?” the little girl asked.

  Even Buddy seemed to be waiting for an answer.

  “Sure,” Justin said. “But no running. He’s got an injured paw.”

  The kids scrambled toward the kitchen with Buddy at their heels.

  Justin joined Bailey as her family continued to stream in with food and presents and beverages. Even cousins, including identical twins, a frowning Tyler and his smiling brother, J.T., a firefighter, were there.

  “I’m sorry,” Bailey mouthed to Justin.

  He helped her carry the presents to the fireplace hearth. “Wow. It’s like Christmas.”

  She nodded. “You’re going to have more dog supplies than you could ever imagine.”

  A tall, tanned fifty-something-year-old man entered the house. One look at Bailey in her yoga pants, old T-shirt and bare feet, and he grimaced. “Holy crap, Bailey. You’ve already got the whole artsy-fartsy thing against you. Please tell me you didn’t go out in public looking dressed like a hobo. Do you know what people are going to say?”

  She took a deep breath and another. “Love you, too, Dad.”

  So this was the patriarch of the Cole family. He looked like a fisherman, and someone you wouldn’t want to upset or bump into in a dark alley. Not that Haley’s Bay had any.

  Justin extended his arm. “I’m Justin McMillian. Nice to meet you, Mr. Cole.”

 
“Jack Cole.” He shook Justin’s hand. “Word of warning. That dog of yours better be the only thing sniffing around here.”

  “Understood. Feel the same way about my two sisters.”

  Justin wouldn’t be surprised if the fisherman father had driven away more than one potential boyfriend.

  Bailey sighed with twenty-seven years’ worth of exasperation. “On that note, I’m going to crawl into a hole and die.”

  “Don’t be overdramatic,” her father said.

  She winked at Justin, as if she weren’t too upset, but playing along. “Fine. I’ll go change into something too artsy-fartsy so you’ll have at least one more thing to complain about, Dad.” She kissed his cheek. “Remember the number one rule in my house...no fighting.”

  She walked to her bedroom.

  Her father’s frown deepened. Her brother Declan looked disappointed. Apparently battles were part of the family fun.

  Justin bit back a smile. He’d wanted to know what a Cole family gathering would be like. Looked as though he was getting his chance. For better or worse.

  Though this wasn’t what he expected.

  Tyler looked unhappy, and Declan looked ready to punch a wall. Justin hoped the Cole males remembered the no-fighting rule. For Bailey’s sake. And his.

  * * *

  Bailey stood at the back door, staring out at her yard. Food covered the picnic table. Her family members and Justin occupied folding chairs setup on the lawn. They ate, drank and laughed. Buddy, the guest of honor, went from person to person getting pets.

  Warmth balled in the center of her chest. She had to give her family credit. When the Coles threw a party, including an impromptu dog shower, aka an excuse to check out Justin, they went all out. Buddy had enough toys, supplies, treats and clothing to make him the most stylish pup on the West Coast.

  She carried another pitcher of strawberry lemonade to the drinks table, a folding card table with various sizes of plastic cups and a permanent marker to write someone’s name on their drink. Three ice chests full of soda, juice boxes and beer were underneath.

  Tyler grabbed a bottle of amber ale from one of the coolers. The serious expression he wore when he’d walked into her house remained. He was dressed like a surfer, but he still looked like a lawyer. “Buddy’s staying here. Is McMillian?”

  “No.” She lowered her voice. “He’s over at Aunt Ida Mae’s.”

  “I texted AJ.”

  “About?”

  “Justin trying to charm the inn away from you.”

  “He’s not.”

  Tyler sipped his beer. “Looks that way to me. Ask anyone else here, and they’ll agree.”

  Her cousin’s words hurt. “You’re wrong, and so are they. I’m not stupid or naive, Ty. I’ve been around the block a couple of times. I’m not going to give away the inn to some handsome sweet talker.”

  “It’s been a while since you’ve dated.”

  “Not that long. Remember Oliver.” Just saying his name left a bad taste in Bailey’s mouth. “And just so you know, I’m not dating Justin.”

  Kissing and dating were two entirely different things. She looked over to see him surrounded by the Cole women—her grandmother, great aunt, mother, sister, sister-in-law and niece. They’d have a précis on him within the hour.

  “We found Buddy at the Potter place,” Bailey said. “Keeping Justin’s dog has nothing to do with the inn. You know I like animals. I’m just trying to help.”

  “Knowing the McMillian reputation, chances are he’ll want to buy the Potter property, too.”

  “What reputation?”

  “The company is cutthroat when buying real estate.”

  “Justin isn’t like that.”

  Tyler raised a brow. “You know him that well?”

  “No.” Nothing she’d seen so far gave her such an impression, though what she’d heard about his sister Paige made her wonder if she was the source of rumors.

  “It’s a moot point anyway.” Tyler wiped off the condensation dripping from his beer. “Phil Potter has shown no interest in selling in the past. He won’t now.”

  “Maybe they’ll make Phil an offer he can’t refuse,” she countered. “He hasn’t been back to Haley’s Bay in forever. The place is a hazard. There’s no reason for him to hold on to the property.”

  “What about sentimental reasons?” Ty’s gaze narrowed. “That was something you understood before spending time with Justin McMillian.”

  “I still understand that. Why do you think I want the inn? But if McMillian Resorts buys another property, they might not want the inn. Then it’s mine.”

  He lifted his bottle. “Still dreaming of saying ‘I do’ there, cuz?”

  Justin joined them. He refilled his cup with strawberry lemonade. “What’s this about ‘I do’?”

  Oh, no. Please no. Her gaze implored Tyler not to say anything, but the devilish smile on her cousin’s face made one thing clear—he was going to spill.

  Her stomach churned with a potent mixture of dread and embarrassment. “Ty—”

  “For as long as I can remember, Bailey has wanted to get married at the Broughton Inn,” Ty said.

  “Like your grandmother?” Justin asked.

  Bailey nodded, heat rushing up her neck. Declan approached, eating a brownie. Oh, no, she didn’t want him to get in on this conversation, too.

  If a big earthquake were going to strike the Pacific Northwest, this would be the perfect time for the fault lines to shift. Everyone was outside. Nothing to fall on them. No one would remember the topic of discussion.

  Except Justin was waiting for an answer.

  She took a breath. “Most girls dream about weddings.”

  Declan grabbed a beer from a red ice chest. “Not all eight-year-olds put on a wedding and make their brothers and cousins attend.”

  “That was a dress rehearsal, not a wedding,” she clarified, praying the ground would start rocking and rolling any second now.

  “She made us wear paper bow ties,” Tyler said.

  Declan laughed. “And black hats. I’d forgotten about those.”

  Ty grinned. “We must have looked like idiots standing on the gazebo in funny hats with a boom box playing the ‘Wedding March.’”

  So much for an earthquake. Might as well go all in. She squared her shoulders. “You were wearing top hats. And the music was Bach’s ‘Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring’ and Pachelbel’s ‘Canon’ in D.”

  Justin’s eyes twinkled. “A formal affair.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Tyler said, seeming to enjoy her discomfort. He and J.T. had no other siblings, but both treated her and Camden like sisters. “Bailey wore a white nightgown and borrowed a friend’s First Communion veil.”

  “She had on white gloves and shoes, too,” Declan added. “Mom was so pissed she scuffed up those shoes before Camden could grow into them.”

  Bailey remembered that. “I was grounded for a week and was assigned extra chores when they found out I cut Aunt Ida Mae’s white roses for my bouquet.”

  “I thought Camden did that.”

  “She did, but she was my maid of honor and younger. I couldn’t let her be punished when this was my idea.” Bailey smiled at the memories, both good and bad. “I don’t think I wore white shoes for the longest time after that. But I got to play bride, so the punishment was worth the crime.”

  “Sounds like an elaborate rehearsal,” Justin said.

  She nodded. “Important stuff when you’re little.”

  Declan looked from Justin to her, an odd expression in her brother’s green eyes. “All Bailey needed was a groom to make the wedding complete.”

  That hadn’t changed. There was still no groom.

  She forced herself not to glance Justin’s way. “I asked one of you to stand in, but had zero takers.”

 
“I was too short,” Declan said.

  “You were lucky we showed up at all.” Tyler walked away. Declan followed him.

  Justin stared over the lip of his cup. “Do you still want to get married at the Broughton Inn?”

  Buddy nudged her leg. She bent over and rubbed his back, trying to avoid the cone secured around his neck as well as Justin’s questioning gaze. “He’s doing great with all these people around. Did you see him playing with the kids?”

  “Answer the question.”

  The firmness in his voice made her look up. He stared intently at her. She swallowed around the lump in her throat. “Yes. That’s what I meant about making new memories.”

  “I see.”

  He did? Maybe he would consider sharing what he saw. “Any other questions?”

  “No, but the gazebo could stay.”

  “Huh?”

  “The gazebo wouldn’t have to be torn down. The structure could be repaired and strengthened. Painted, too.”

  Bailey thought about what Tyler had said about the inn being charmed out from under her. “Hypothetically?”

  “I’m trying to make sure you get what you want.”

  Her pulse skittered, matching her erratic heartbeat. No one had ever done that for her. Oh, AJ tried. His way to make up for staying away for ten years, perhaps? She’d been the middle child with three older brothers and three younger siblings. The forgotten one. Her older brothers were always giving her—not to mention their parents—a hard time. The twins and Grady had needed constant supervision. No one had time to think about Bailey’s desires, just her basic needs.

  She struggled to find the right words. “Thanks, but I can take care of that myself.”

  He glanced around the backyard at her family until his gaze reached hers. That connection she’d felt was stronger now.

  “I know you can,” he said. “But you shouldn’t have to. Not all the time.”

  Tingles poured down her spine and she knew then what she’d been denying all along. Justin McMillian might be the wrong man, but she was falling for him anyway. Falling hard.

  And if the Broughton Inn was coming between them, she might have to choose. The question was...which one would she pick?

  The first answer that came to mind surprised her. Justin couldn’t be the right one...or could he?