Page 5 of Kiss the Bride

“I doubt that!” The protest slipped out of her mouth before she could stop it. Planning the hundreds of weddings and events held at the Cottage each year required mad skills. “What if something goes wrong? What’ll we do without your expertise? What if—” The thought of disappointing even one bride brought her to the brink of tears. She sucked in a steadying breath.

“Hush,” Alicia soothed. “I’m not moving across the country. I’ll be close if you need me.”

The planner’s reassurance calmed the butterflies that had taken flight in her stomach. She sank into her chair and tried to come to grips with the idea that Alicia was moving on to the next stage in her life, while she was … What was she doing, exactly? Once Jason and Tara returned from their honeymoon, everyone would expect her to quietly return to her role behind the scenes. But what if that wasn’t what she wanted?

Unable to put her finger on what came next in her own life, she noted the two empty seats. “Who else are you expecting? What’s this meeting all about, anyway? Jenny didn’t say.”

“You’ll see.” Alicia’s smile was full of mystery. “If I’m not mistaken, here comes one of our other guests now.” The event planner propped her elbows on her desk and stared expectantly at the door.

Ryan mounted the wide steps. At the top, an impressive set of double doors opened into the three-story mansion known as the Captain’s Cottage. He suppressed a whistle. Restoring the Boat Works had given him a fresh appreciation for the effort required to maintain a place this size. At the turn of the century, the rich and famous had established a number of similar estates in nearby Newport. More often than not, those summer homes had been converted into apartments or razed to the ground when family fortunes had changed. But not this one.

In the foyer, he nodded to a life-size portrait of a swashbuckling seafarer, Captain Thaddeus Heart, merchant sailor and founder of the town that bore his name. The captain had plied the seas between London and New York for more than a dozen years, and by selling his cargo on both ends of the trip, he’d amassed a sizable fortune—enough to buy land and build a suitable home for his wife and twelve children. Through careful husbandry, the Hearts had maintained the cottage and the land surrounding it for more than a hundred years.

Nearly as familiar with the rambling estate as he was with his parents’ more modern home, Ryan headed deeper into the building. A smile tugged at his lips when he passed the spiral staircase that led to the family’s living quarters. He and Jason had raced down those stairs as kids, each trying to outdo the other. Passing the dining room, he chuckled softly. How many times had he snuck cookies from one of the trays meant for guests while his pal had stood guard? They’d been in their teens before they’d realized Jason’s dad had known all along what they’d been up to and had instructed the staff to let them be.

At the entrance to the Blue Room, he checked the soundness of the wood in the doorway out of habit, but he needn’t have bothered. He might not be able to build a house from scratch like his father or his brothers, but he could take something broken and make it good as new. Once, a pipe had burst and flooded the ballroom, and he’d repaired the damage to such a degree that not even the most discerning eye would ever see the difference.

Staff in black pants and white shirts bustled about the Green Room, straightening gold bows on the backs of the chairs and arranging centerpieces on the tables. Two women consulted seating charts and worked their careful way through the tables, leaving place cards at each setting. A soft clink drew his attention to Ashley and Alexis, the owners of Favors Galore. In the back of the room, they arranged a tantalizing array of sweets on pink-and-gold platters. One of the dark-haired twins—he’d never been able to tell them apart—caught sight of him and waved him over. He mouthed an apology while pointing to his watch.

Turning away from the preparations, he made his way down a long hall to the office of Alicia Thorn, Event Planner. The door stood ajar, and he recognized one of the voices coming from inside. He gulped.

Evelyn Heart. The one who’d gotten away.

Not really, he told himself, though his feet stuck to the floorboards, refusing to move. Evelyn and Jason—Ryan’s best friend—were more like brother and sister than cousins. That made Jason’s younger cousin off-limits. Sure, back when he’d been a foolish teen, he’d asked her out on a date. Once. He’d been half-relieved when she’d turned him down. Although, even after all these years, he had to admit her abrupt dismissal had stung a bit.

Not that he’d spent the intervening years pining after her. He’d been popular enough in high school. Captain of the baseball team. Vice-president of the student council. He didn’t like to brag, but he’d known some of the girls thought he was good-looking.

Not Evelyn.

He’d often wondered if she considered herself above him. He was, after all, destined to make his living with his hands. If that wasn’t good enough for her—if he wasn’t good enough for her—it was her loss, wasn’t it? Regardless, he’d taken the hint and kept his distance.

Even now, he avoided her company as much as possible. Considering the size of Heart’s Landing, that wasn’t always easy … like now, when it looked like they’d be in a meeting together. He risked a quick study while the conversation continued. Evelyn had always worn her hair long and still did. Today, she’d slicked the thick mass into a knot that highlighted her slim neck and fine features. As he watched, she leaned forward, one hand moving animatedly. He was too far away to hear her words, but from the way a bright intelligence gleamed in her green eyes, she was passionate about the topic. He grinned as, with the other hand, she gave an unconscious tug on the hem of her skirt.

As often as not, Evelyn had tagged along while he and Jason had battled imaginary pirates on the Cottage’s third-floor balcony or dug for mussels along the shore. She’d been more tomboy than girly-girl in those days. Now, though, there was no denying her softer, more feminine side.

At that thought, he swallowed hard. The woman moved in an entirely different sphere from his own. He didn’t even approach her level—a fact he needed to keep in mind.

While he was lost in thought, the conversation in the office must’ve drifted to another topic. Alicia’s gaze lifted. Evelyn’s head swiveled. Ryan started, barely managing to get his feet in motion before the two of them caught him gawking.

“Alicia. Evelyn.” Wondering what job they had in store for him, he nodded to both women.

Alicia’s office chair spun in his direction. “Good. You’re here. JeanMarie texted. She’ll join us in a minute. Can I get either of you anything?”

“I’m fine,” Evelyn murmured. She straightened, slipping her foot into the high heel that had dangled from her toes.

“Yeah. Me, too,” he said, though he wished he’d grabbed a bottle of water from the dining area. He swallowed dryly as he glanced around. Why was he here? For the life of him, he couldn’t think of any repairs at the Captain’s Cottage that’d require Evelyn’s input. He chose the chair farthest from her and lowered himself onto it.

Seconds later, muted footsteps sounded in the hall. They grew closer. Within seconds, a petite woman wearing a helmet of brown hair and a pair of well-broken-in work boots burst into the room. The tail of her khaki blouse hung loose over dark green slacks, giving her a slightly disheveled look. “Sorry I’m late.” Breathless, she smoothed her wrinkled shirt, straightening the Parks and Recreation logo over her pocket. “It’s been a crazy morning.”

“No problem.” Alicia pointed to her watch, reminding everyone she ran a tight ship. “We were just getting started.” Once JeanMarie had taken the vacant seat, the woman in charge cleared her throat. “I’m glad you all could make it. You’re probably wondering why I’ve asked you here. I’ll get right to it. We need to discuss the Wedding-in-a-Week event.”

Huh? Ryan crossed and recrossed his legs. If it’d been anyone else sitting behind the desk, he’d assume he’d been summoned by mistake. Alicia Thorn did not make mistakes. He fought an uncommon urge to squirm beneath her penetrating gaze.

Heart’s Landing played host to a number of events throughout the year. He’d participated in most. Once, he’d won an Honorable Mention during the spring chili cook-off. Each fall, he helped build the set and cheered from the wings during the annual reenactment of Captain Thaddeus’s famous battle with a hurricane. He shopped for Christmas presents among the booths at the winter craft fest. But the Wedding-in-a-Week festivities? He’d never had anything to do with that. And he didn’t plan to—not until he had the Boat Works solidly in the black. His curiosity rising, he folded his arms and sat back in his chair to listen.

“As you might remember, Weddings Today runs a Wedding-in-a-Week contest every year. Thousands of engaged couples from all over the world enter. Every one of them hopes to win an all-expense-paid wedding. The magazine chooses the couple they deem most deserving from the applicants. Because we’ve been named America’s Top Wedding Destination again this year, we’ll host the event.” She paused to let the significance of the honor sink in. “Business owners throughout Heart’s Landing participate by donating their goods and services. I’m sure you remember filling out your forms last fall.”

On his right, JeanMarie and Evelyn nodded, while Ryan tried hard not to scratch his head. He knew good and well he hadn’t dropped his name in the box. He’d considered it. In fact, he’d spent hours weighing the benefits of throwing his hat in the ring versus the risk of failure. But he’d barely finished demolition on the Boat Works by the deadline at the end of September. That had given him another ten months to transform the building into a wedding venue. A lot of people would consider that an adequate timeframe. He hadn’t. Like death and taxes, construction delays were inevitable. In the end, he’d decided the odds were too great that he’d hit a snag and let the town—and the bride and groom—down.

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