Best Laid Wedding Plans (13 page)

If he explained his own plans, she might start to second-guess her decision. She'd wonder if she should let him have his way. At this particular point in time, he didn't think that was the answer. Like her parents, she needed something positive to concentrate on, something to divert her mind from her family's loss. This wedding venue would give all of them exactly that. This was what she wanted, and he'd do what he could to help.

He'd always felt—what? A soft spot for Jenni Beth? More, much more. She'd called him a liar, and he'd denied it. But if he denied his feelings for her? Then he was lying to himself.

Bottom line, she was Wes's baby sister, and as much as he had fun flirting, there was a line there.

Or was there?

If Wes was still alive, would he feel he needed to keep his hands off her?

For one night, he hadn't. One glorious night—that had led to him running like a scared rabbit. The biggest screwup of his life.

He wished it had never happened.

He thanked God it had.

Cole wiped the sweat from his brow.

Those eyes, that pouty mouth. All that beautiful silky blond hair. His fingers itched to loosen that elastic band and bury themselves in it.

And that body. Remembering that tiny little excuse for a pair of shorts, that damn pink tank top, he bit back a groan.

Right now, she didn't have on much more, and he couldn't blame her. This was hot work. Still, he'd eat a skunk if there was a single man among Beck's crew, married or not, who hadn't checked her out up there on her ladder in those skimpy red shorts and that little white tee.

Jenni Beth didn't need designer clothes and a wheelbarrow full of makeup to look good. Nope. It didn't much matter what she wore. She was a natural beauty with the body of a siren.

A brain, too, he admitted. And he loved that about her.

Magnolia House as a B&B would have brought some much needed help to Misty Bottoms. Jenni Beth's wedding venue would bring far more.

* * *

By the time Beck's crew called it quits and cleaned up for the day, Jenni Beth's arms felt like rubber. She doubted she'd even be able to pick up a glass of sweet iced tea.

Leaning against the old oak tree in the front yard, she watched the trail of dust swallow up the last of the men's pickups.

She turned to the house and grinned. Oh, it was still pretty much a disaster, but the difference one day, ten guys, and a whole lot of hard work and determination had made was phenomenal. She could hardly believe the changes.

The porch floor was whole again. The new, unpainted siding stood out like a harlequin pattern on the house, but it was being repaired.

On the porch steps, Beck and Cole sprawled, a bottle of water in each of their hands. Only the three of them were left, survivors in the midst of what had practically been a battle. They'd won today's skirmish.

Walking over, she wiggled down between the men. Her brother's friends. Her friends.

Nothing smelled quite like a man who'd worked hard all day. Both radiated heat. Jenni Beth found it sexy on a very elemental level.

She had two men, one on either side of her. One slightly urban, at home whether in the city or the country. The other? Country all the way. Both handsome, rugged males. Yet Beck, with all his good looks, didn't affect her sexually. Didn't make her want to drag him upstairs to her bed. Cole? Whew. Different story altogether. She practically had to sit on her hands to keep them from touching him, from running over his body. And she hated that. Hadn't she learned her lesson?

“Why don't you stay for dinner?”

“With your family? Smellin' like this?” Beck asked.

“If you want, you can take a quick shower.”

“We'd have to jump right back into these sweaty clothes, Jenni Beth.”

“Fine. Just wash up. Mama and Daddy won't care, and I'm sure I don't smell any better than you guys.”

The look Cole sent her told her she smelled just fine. For a split second, she wondered if he'd been sharing her thoughts about taking that shower—together. She groaned mentally.
Get real, Jenni Beth. You're not his type.

But dang it all to purgatory and back, she knew exactly what Cole Bryson hid beneath that sweaty T-shirt, those worn, torn jeans. It didn't matter, she reminded herself. What he did or didn't have beneath those clothes no longer had anything to do with her.

“Charlotte made potato salad today and one of her blue-ribbon, county-fair-winning chocolate sheet cakes.”

“And I'll grill some burgers.” Her dad stepped out onto the porch. “It's the least we can do for you boys after what you did here today. We've missed havin' you here.” He cleared his throat. “Sue Ellen made me promise you'd stay. Don't make me look bad.”

The two exchanged a look, and within no time, they were out on the back patio with her dad at the grill, cold drinks in hand. Jenni Beth, her mom, and Charlotte set the outside table.

“Like old times, ain't it?” Charlotte asked.

Her mother nodded, a sheen to her eyes.

Jenni Beth gave her a hug.

“I'm okay, sweetie. Just, well…” She shook her head, changed the subject. “There seems to be an awful lot of smoke.” Napkins in hand, Sue Ellen turned to her husband. “Are you sure you know what you're doing?”

“The burgers keep catching on fire.” Her dad slapped at the grill as another flame shot skyward.

“Why don't you let me do that, Mr. Beaumont?” Cole jumped up from the hammock he'd been sprawled in.

Her dad handed over the spatula without any argument.

* * *

“Thank you,” Jenni Beth mouthed to Cole. He grinned and nodded, bided his time till she went inside to help Charlotte.

“I walked through the house yesterday with Jenni Beth,” he said. “I see you've got Wes's college picture in the stairway.”

Grief clouded Todd Beaumont's face, and he nodded. “Nice picture, isn't it?”

“It is.” Cole hesitated. Probably not his business, but if not his, then whose? He decided to go for it. “That really wasn't my point, though, sir.”

Todd's expression turned quizzical. “Your point? I don't understand.”

“No, I don't guess you do. Thing is, Mr. Beaumont, you've got two children but I only saw one portrait.”

“I don't think—”

As if Todd hadn't even spoken, Cole pointed the spatula in his hand toward Jenni Beth, who stepped through the back door, a large plate in hand, and lowered his voice. “And that one's workin' her ass off—pardon my French—to save this place.”

Todd stared at his daughter then glanced at his wife, who sat at the patio table, sipping tea and chatting with Beck.

Ashen-faced, he looked back at Cole. “Point taken.”

After she deposited her appetizer tray on the table, Jenni Beth walked over to them.

“Charlotte put some of your favorite cheese on there, Dad.” She tipped her head toward the platter.

“I'd better have some, hadn't I? Don't want to get on her bad side.”

A look passed between him and Cole.

After he walked away, Jenni Beth asked, “What's going on? Dad looked—funny.”

“Just guys talkin' sports over a grill.”

Her expression cried
liar
again.

“You and my dad planning something I should know about?”

“Nope.”

“Richard still hasn't called.”

“He will.”

“From your lips to God's ears.” She sighed.

Worry hazed those incredible blue eyes, and Cole wanted to punch Richard's lights out for putting it there.

“He'll call.”

“You can't know that.”

Unease settled in Cole's belly. “Yeah. I do know.”

“Hmmph.”

He felt like a heel. He felt…untruthful. Like that liar she'd called him. Yet he couldn't tell her about Richard's implied threat or his trip to the banker's office. Not yet. He'd missed his chance earlier. Now, it would have to wait. It weighed him down.

* * *

Jenni Beth dropped onto an old Adirondack chair. Why did Cole sound so certain? And yet, at the same time he prowled, uneasy.

She studied her nails, wondering if there was even the slightest chance of resurrecting them. Helen at Frenchie's Beauty Parlor would probably kick her out if she dared darken her door with this mess.

She smiled. It had been too long since she'd visited pink-haired Helen and her
Grease
-themed shop. Maybe she'd call tomorrow, if only to talk for a minute. If she intended to live in Misty Bottoms, she needed to reestablish herself. And who knew? She and Helen might be able to work up a package for brides and their attendants. They'd need someone to make them beautiful for their special day. Why not Helen and her staff?

She'd need to contact the two local hotels, too, to see if she could finagle some kind of discount rate or group package for overnight wedding guests. Guests who would spend money in town.

Her cell rang. Surprised, she nearly spilled the soft drink in her hand.

Caller ID showed it was Richard. Her stomach fluttered. He quite literally held her—and her family's—future in his hands.

“Hello?”

She glanced up, saw Cole's full attention trained on her. Shifting in her chair, she turned her back on him. She could handle this. Cole had started Traditions, his own business. Now it was time for her to start hers.

“Sorry for calling so late,” Richard said, “but I wanted to clear a few things off my desk before I head home.”

“No problem.” A lie she prayed would be forgiven. Inwardly, she could gladly have wrung his neck for stringing her along these past couple days on what was a sound business proposal. He was a bully—a small-minded, arrogant bully. She felt sorry for his wife.

“Will you be in town tomorrow?”

“I can be.”

“Good, good. Listen, why don't you stop in and we can finish that paperwork. I'll have everything ready for you to sign.”

Jenni Beth closed her eyes in a quick prayer of thanks.

“Any special time?” she asked.

“Whenever you get here is good. Gloria will have everything drawn up.”

She hesitated, almost afraid to ask, but needing to know. One deep breath and she plowed in. “Were you able to give me the full amount?”

“Almost. We'll talk about it tomorrow.”

She turned off her cell, understanding what he hadn't said.

Well, she'd deal with that later. Right now, she intended to enjoy dinner with her family and friends. Lightness and life. The old house needed this. Her parents needed this. Beck and Cole had brought a much-needed shot of energy to Magnolia House.

She glanced at her mother, saw a smile on her face. A matching one sat on her father's. Warmth spread through her. The burgers, thanks to Cole, were wonderful—juicy and perfectly cooked. The conversation flew from one to the other, and there was laughter at the table. All in all, the evening was perfect.

While Charlotte and her mother cleared, Jenni Beth walked with Beck to the front yard.

“I know you're the guy with all the connections,” she said. “And I understand your own men are already booked up with projects you have scheduled. But I'll need workmen to plaster, to sheetrock, to do some plumbing and electrical work. Are there people in town who can do this, or will I need to bring in some outside help? I'd really like to put Misty Bottoms people to work if at all possible.”

“Give me a couple days to do some checkin', and I'll get back to you. I'm sure we can handle this job with local people. Things have been slow here, and the guys will be glad for the work.”

“That's what I was hoping. Thanks, Beck, for everything.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek, wondering again why she couldn't feel anything but brotherly love for him. Maybe because Tansy had loved him. Jenni Beth had never understood how her best friend could have married someone else. Could have hurt Beck so badly.

As he walked to his truck, she stood, her arms wrapped around her waist. Everything was starting to fall into place. She waved as he disappeared down the drive.

When she turned, Cole stood behind her.

No noise, no chatter came from the back of the house. Her parents had gone inside. Beck was on his way home. Charlotte was in the kitchen cleaning up. Only Cole remained. In the dim summer light she stared at him, a nervous laugh playing through her mind.

He looked like a dark angel. But his eyes? A rogue's eyes, full of mischief and devilment. How did a woman resist that combination?

No brotherly feelings here. Nope. But feelings? Emotions churned inside her, every bit as chaotic and dangerous as the running of the bulls at Pamplona. Why couldn't she get this man out of her system? He'd let her down too many times. Had broken her heart.

And still, she wanted him.

He took a step toward her, the pale moonlight shining on him, silvering the light streaks in his dark hair. Her pulse kicked up a few notches, and she couldn't help but wonder if he heard the thunder of her heart.

“I have no right to ask, but I'm gonna,” he said quietly. “Will you grant me one favor, Jenni Beth?”

“Grant you a favor? You make me sound like a princess or a queen.” She laughed. “We both know I'm neither of those.”

“No. Thank God, you're a flesh-and-blood woman.”

Her breath caught, and she steeled herself for what might be coming.

“Now that your porch is rebuilt and is no longer in danger of fallin' in, will you sit with me on the swing?”

“What?”

“For a few minutes. I need to go to Savannah in the morning, had planned to go back today. I'm only askin' for a couple minutes of your time. No complications, I promise. No kissin', no hand-holdin'. I just want to sit with you.”

“Cole Bryson, I swear you're a brick shy of a full load.”

“Probably.” He stuffed his hands in his back pockets. “So will you?”