A Misty Harbor Wedding (18 page)

“Your mom, Kay, and Jill went to work on the Women's Guild at the Methodist church. They'll be doing the ham and roast beef, plus all the tables, chairs, and dishes are being rented from them. Ned used his pull and got the Catch of the Day to supply potatoes au gratin and hors d'oeuvres, and Norah threw herself on the mercy of a caterer in Ellsworth who has agreed to do up two kinds of salad. So, as you can see, I really didn't do much.”

Matt looked at her in amazement. “All this came about because your rental car needed to be washed?”

She glanced at the kids, who were all too busy having fun to be paying her and Matt much attention. She leaned forward and brushed his mouth with a soft kiss that lasted longer than a peck but left her frustrated for more, just the same. “It was really dirty.”

Matt groaned and tried to reach for her.

She moved out of arm's reach. “We have company.”

“We
always
have company.” Matt's smile softened his words. “Tell me the best part of your day yesterday. Did you enjoy Bar Harbor?”

“The town was packed with tourists. I did get to take Austin out on a lobster boat and he helped haul in a couple of big ones with Captain Bob.”

“Captain Bob?” Matt smirked. “Sounds exciting.”

“Only if you're four.” She leaned back, kicked off her sandals, and playfully skimmed her toes up his calf. “My favorite part was the popovers at Jordan's Pond.”

“In Acadia National Park?”

“Is there another Jordan's Pond restaurant?”

“Afraid not, there's only one.” Matt kicked off his sandals. “So you like their popovers?”

“‘Like' isn't a strong enough word for my admiration of them.” She grinned. “Lunch wasn't bad either. I definitely have to go back before I leave.”

“I'll take you to dinner there one night.”

“It's a date.” She didn't want to think about leaving yet.

“Good. Speaking of dinner, I have an idea.”

“Which is?” She had lots of ideas to appease her growing appetite. None had to do with restaurants or food.

“My brother John and Kay have invited Austin to their place tonight for dinner and a kids' movie. They feel they owe us something for all the times we've taken Tyler with us. I said I'd leave that up to you, since I'm not sure how you'd feel about leaving Austin with them for a couple hours.”

“What will we be doing while Austin's there?” Her mind conjured up all kinds of possibilities.

“I know a fantastic restaurant in Winter Harbor. It's an old mansion perched high on a cliff overlooking the ocean.” Matt's toe trailed up her calf in retaliation for her teasing him. “Dinner is served by candlelight and there's usually dancing on the patio.”

She didn't know what upset her more, that he hadn't suggested dinner in bed or that she hadn't packed anything slinky and sexy to wear during her vacation. She wanted to knock Matt's socks off, along with quite a few other articles of clothing. “Sounds wonderful.”

Her mind was trying to calculate how much time she would need to run into town to that cute little boutique, Claire's, and still be ready in time. “If Austin agrees, I see no problem with him going over to Tyler's for dinner and a movie.”

“Mom! Mom!” shouted Austin. “I got one! I got one!” Her son was holding onto his pole for dear life and screaming at the top of his lungs.

“Hold on tighter, Austin,” shouted Tyler, who then dropped his own pole to go help his friend.

Matt jumped to his feet and sprinted to her son. So much for their conversation. She couldn't compete with a bobbing bobber and a tight fishing line.

Men.

She stood up and laughed as Morgan shrieked with glee and started to run in circles, kicking up water everywhere. Hunter made a beeline for the mighty fisherman, shouting that he wanted to see.

Everyone was shouting and Matt was leaning over Austin, trying to instruct him on reeling in the line. Birds were chirping with their displeasure from being disturbed on a beautiful, quiet Saturday morning. Somewhere close by, a dog started to howl.

She loved her son dearly and was thrilled he had caught a fish. But tonight couldn't come soon enough.

Matt tried not to swallow his tongue as he held out the chair for Sierra. She wasn't just beautiful this evening, she was knockout gorgeous. Forks had literally frozen in midair when she had walked into the room. Every man in the room had followed her with his gaze as she walked across the room. The amazing part was Sierra didn't seem to notice. She was too busy checking out the architectural details of Cliffside Manor.

“This is wonderful, Matt.” Sierra took her seat and smiled at the maître d' who had shown them to their table.

“I thought you would appreciate it.” Matt took his seat and was thankful that their table was at least semiprivate. He didn't want strangers gawking at Sierra all through their meal. “Cliffside Manor dates back from the mid to late 1800s. The Parker's, who were heavy into steel, had it built for their summer home.”

Sierra gave a soft whistle. “Someone had money. What happened to the Parkers?” She smiled politely at the waiter who stopped at their table and asked if they would care for a drink. “A glass of your house white wine would be fine.”

“The same,” Matt said as he handed back the wine list. “I don't know for certain, but the story goes that there was some type of tragedy that happened to the family around the time of the Depression.”

“Lots of families lost all their wealth during that time.”

“True, but the house never went on the market. It stood empty and abandoned till the mid-seventies. I think it has changed hands about ten times since then. Each owner poured a fortune into repairs and renovations, but it never seemed to work out. The first couple owners had it as an inn, then in the early nineties it was made into a restaurant.”

Sierra glanced around the large, open room filled with fine antiques and lots of greenery that acted as a privacy screen.

He could see in her gaze the appreciation of the refined beauty. He knew what she was seeing: twelve-foot-high plastered ceilings, silk wallpaper, detailed molding, and eight-foot-tall windows with a commanding view of the ocean and the night sky beyond. The current owners had outdone themselves and had spared no expense. He should know—he had worked on the inn himself.

“Whoever did this,” Sierra said, “is amazing.”

“Thank you.” He meant it. Sierra had no idea he had done most of the work in this particular room.

“You did this?” Sierra waved her arm and nearly upset the tray their waiter was carrying to their table. “Oh, I'm so sorry.”

Matt chuckled. The young waiter actually blushed as he set their wine before them. “Thank you.” Matt felt sorry for the tongue-tied waiter, but he knew that feeling. He had experienced it earlier himself when he went to pick up Sierra.

“There is no way you bought that outfit in Misty Harbor.” He had lived in the town his whole life and never once had he seen a woman remotely dressed like Sierra. The silky light blue pants and sleeveless top shimmered and reflected the candlelight. It almost looked as if it changed color when she moved. Sierra had piled her hair on top of her head in a sexy twisting style and had paired the outfit with silver—glittery silver sandals, a silver bag, and waterfalls of silver dangling from each ear.

When they had dropped off Austin at his brother's, John and Kay had asked Sierra where she had gotten the outfit. Sierra had surprised both Kay and him by saying she had just picked it up at Claire's in town. His brother John had stood there with his mouth hanging open catching flies, until his wife rammed her elbow into his gut.

Sierra took a sip of wine and smiled at him across the rim of the glass. “Haven't you ever been in Claire's?”

“I walk past it a couple times a week.” He'd seen the mannequins in the window wearing different outfits. None of them ever looked like Sierra did tonight. He would have noticed.

“In other words, you've never been inside.” Sierra shook her head and opened her menu. “It's a wonderful shop, quite surprising in many ways.”

He opened his menu and was happy to see they still carried a great selection of steaks. “Will you be wearing it to Norah's wedding?” He could foresee a truly miserable day if she was. Every male above the age of puberty would be drooling after her. Ned was going to be a bit upset when his best man started punching out some of the wedding guests.

Sierra looked up from the menu. “I'm not going to the wedding, Matt.”

“Why not?” He snapped the menu closed. He already knew what he wanted.

“Ummm . . .” Sierra looked hesitant. “I wasn't invited.”

“Of course you're invited.” Why would she think she wasn't invited? Hell, if it weren't for Sierra, Norah and Ned would be saying their vows by a half-dead shrub, and the guests would be slicing off chunks of six-foot-long hoagies bought at Roy's in Bangor and drinking beer from a cooler.

Sierra shook her head. “I didn't receive an invitation.”

Matt stared at her for a moment and then started to laugh.

“What's so funny?” Sierra glanced around to see if they were attracting any attention.

“Sierra, no one received an actual invitation. There wasn't time to have them made and then mailed.”

“So what did Norah and Ned do, call everyone?”

“The out-of-town relatives and friends, yes.” He didn't see what the problem was. “Word of mouth spread it to everyone in town.”

“So the three hundred guests everyone has been telling me about is, what, an estimate? No one RSVPed?” she asked, horrified.

“There was nothing to RSVP to, and three hundred is a pretty good estimate, in my opinion. Ned's a very likable guy. Everyone will want to be there.” He reached across the table and covered one of her hands with his. “I would very much like to officially invite you and Austin to come to the wedding, as my date and guest.”

Sierra looked at him. “First off, what's wrong with Norah? Isn't she likable?”

“Norah's very likable.” He chuckled. “But she and her mother just moved here in June. I know a few of her coworkers at the newspaper are coming.” He trailed a fingertip across Sierra's wrist.

“What happens if more than three hundred people show up? Or less?” Sierra turned over her hand and lightly teased the palm of his hand with one of her fingers.

“We'll make room for them somehow, and if there's food left over, the Methodist church knows which families in town could use it the most and will make sure it's delivered.”

“It's that simple?” Sierra looked unconvinced.

“It's that simple. I've been to other spur-of-the-moment weddings, Sierra. It all works out.” He captured her wayward finger because it was driving him nuts. “Relax, and tell me Austin and you will be coming with me.” That way if someone tried hitting on her, he'd be in the right to bash some heads. The outfit she was wearing was going to cause a heart attack, and it just might be his.

“I would love to come with you, Matt.” Her eyes glittered with secrets. “But Austin won't be here.”

“Why not? Where's he going?” Sierra and Austin were inseparable. This was the first time Matt and Sierra had been out alone together.

“Jake is flying into Boston for business on Wednesday morning. Jake's sister lives in Boston, so he invited us down so he could spend a few days with his son. I think it's important that Jake and Austin spend the time together, but they don't need me. So I'm staying right here in Misty Harbor.”

“How's Austin getting there?”

“I'm meeting Jake halfway, along Interstate 95 on Wednesday afternoon. Then I'll meet him there again Sunday afternoon to pick Austin back up.” There were secrets in Sierra's eyes that were teasing him, tempting him.

“It's all worked out?” Four nights Sierra would be alone in the Alberts' home. Somewhere outside on the patio a band started to play a slow, soft melody, perfect for dancing under the stars. It was a real shame his hormones had already started to dance to some fiery Latin beat.

Sierra looked at Matt and knew exactly what he was thinking. The same thing she was: Wednesday couldn't get here soon enough. “Oh, just so you know, I won't be wearing this to Ned and Norah's wedding.” She had no idea why he had asked, but it had seemed important to him.

“Why not? It's gorgeous and you look fantastic in it.”

“Matt”—she tried not to roll her eyes—“I'm wearing it tonight.”

“So?”

She did roll her eyes this time. “Forget it. It's a woman thing,” she said as their waiter approached their table. Men were so clueless about certain things.

After the waiter left with their order, she glanced around the room in wonder. She had seen shabbier five-star hotels. From what she had been able to see of Cliffside Manor, it had been painstakingly restored. “I thought you said you were a carpenter.”

“I am.” Matt looked amused.

“Carpenters build houses and bookcases, things like that.” She had seen and met many carpenters over the years. They had come in many shapes and sizes, but not a one of them had looked like Matt. She would have remembered.

“I can build a house, and I have built my fair share of bookcases.” Matt smiled. “I specialize in restoration. It matches my love of history and my obsession for detail.”

“Brain with the brawn?” She liked that in a guy. She'd never dated a carpenter before or any other guy who made his living with his hands. Her dates tended to be businessmen, smart, savvy men who got their brawn from a gym. She doubted very much that was where Matt got his.

Matt chuckled. “I'll take that as a compliment.”

“It was meant as one.” She glanced around the room. “Exactly how much of this room did you do?”

“The entire window wall. A previous owner had lined the whole wall with patio doors but was smart enough to save the original windows in the carriage house. I restored the old windows and replaced them exactly how they were originally.” Matt nodded across the room where a massive fireplace took up half the wall. “The interior of the fireplace had to be completely redone, but thankfully the marble mantle was in great shape. I replaced a couple of rotten floorboards, and sanded and revarnished this room and three others.”

“What about the crown molding?” Sierra stared up at the ceiling. The intricate molding had to be ten inches wide and hand carved.

“I only had to duplicate an eight-foot section. From the rest I stripped off eight layers of paint before giving it a fresh white coat.”

She twisted and turned in her seat as she studied every foot of the crown molding. She couldn't spot the new piece. “I'm impressed.” The red and gold silk wall covering looked elegant and old. “Tell me you hung the wallpaper.” If he said yes, she'd offer him a job with the Randall Corporation and pay him a fortune. It would be worth every penny.

“Afraid I can't take credit for that one. There's a company in Bangor that specializes in walls. They did the plastering and hung the silk. I prefer to work with wood, and sometimes stone, brick, or slate.”

“With all this talent”—her arm swept the room—“why stay here in Misty Harbor? Why not move to a big city? I have a feeling work this good is in great demand and you would be able to practically name your price.” She didn't have a feeling about it; she knew. She had negotiated with
craftsmen
before. A good
craftsman
was worth his weight in gold. Matthew Porter wasn't a carpenter, he was a
craftsman.

“Misty Harbor is my home, Sierra. It's where my heart is.” Matt's gaze held sincerity. “It's where my dream is.”

“What's your dream, Matt?” What did a man like Matt dream about? She had a feeling his dream didn't concern making money or retiring at fifty.

“Living in Misty Harbor's lighthouse.” Matt watched her closely, waiting for a reaction.

She blinked. “Where?”

“The lighthouse where I saw you and Austin that first morning. It's been my dream since I was eight years old to live in it.”

“You want to live in a lighthouse? There's not enough room inside, is there?” She was confused. Didn't a woman named Millicent Wyndham own the lighthouse?

Matt chuckled. “When I was eight, it didn't matter. Now that I'm older, I agree. That's why I want to build a replica of the original lighthouse keeper's house that at one time was right next to it. It was struck by lightning and burned to the ground before it could be saved.”

“When was this?” She hadn't even known there had been a house at one time.

“In 1940. For my twenty-fifth birthday my brothers and parents went around town and got every old picture of the place they could lay their hands on. It turned out to be only three old black and whites. Between them and what passed for blueprints back when it was originally built, which Ned had found for me, I can build a replica with all the modern conveniences—like indoor plumbing.”

“Indoor plumbing is good.” Her heart sank. Matt wanted the lighthouse. The same lighthouse that the Randall Corporation would be incorporating into its newest hotel, set right on the coast of Maine. Twenty acres of prime real estate was about to go onto the market, and her father was seriously thinking about buying it. That was why she was in Misty Harbor.

She and Austin had been sent here by her father to scope out the town and the surrounding area. Millicent Wyndham, the woman who owned the property now, wasn't too sure that a hundred-room, high-end hotel would be in the town's best interest. From what her father told her, Ms. Wyndham was the town's matriarch, and what she said went. One of Sierra's jobs was to find out if Ms. Wyndham was telling the truth about the town or she was trying to jack up the price by playing hardball.