Page 3 of Dreaming of Dawson

“I can.” I pull the laptop closer again, typing the name ‘Cooper’ into the space. “What’s his second name?” I ask.

“White. He’s the town’s dentist.” She smiles. “To be honest, he’s not someone I used to associate with very much.”

“Oh? Is there something wrong with him?”

“Only that he’s the town’s dentist,” she says, and I have to laugh.

“Can I assume you’re scared of the dentist?”

“Who isn’t? But to be fair, now I’ve got to know him a little better, I realize he’s a lot less scary than I thought he was.”

“How have you got to know him?” I ask. “Have you been forced to use his professional services?”

“No, it was nothing like that. We met up more often when Brady and Laurel got married.” I frown and she smiles. “As youknow, Laurel is my best friend, and Cooper is Brady’s. It was a natural course of events.”

“I see, and now he’s getting married?”

“Yes. To his receptionist… and with just ten weeks until their big day, we’d better hope they wanna keep it simple, too.”

I chuckle, entering the details, and she picks up her phone, putting through a call to Cooper White, while I get on with searching for someone who can make us ninety-six pink candles… very particular pink candles.

Surprisingly, Rory’s still asleep, and during the last two hours, not only have I found someone in New York to supply the candles, and deliver them on time, but we’ve established that the gluten-intolerant guest doesn’t have celiac disease, and that Cooper White is over the moon that he and his receptionist are going to be married in just ten weeks.

Peony made an appointment for them to come over and see her after they’ve finished work, to go through their arrangements. Naturally, that means I won’t be involved, but I’ll catch up with everything tomorrow, and she’s promised not to involve anything too complicated.

“They’ll understand,” she says. “And to be honest, listening to Cooper, I think he’s just impatient to be married. If the ceremony had to take place in a field, he’d be happy.”

I can’t help laughing, although I stop when the door opens unexpectedly and Peony’s husband steps inside, bringing a blast of icy wind with him.

“Damn, it’s cold out there,” he says, taking off his coat and throwing it over the back of the couch before he wanders across to us.

“I didn’t hear your car,” Peony says as he tips her head back and kisses her. They celebrated their first wedding anniversary not long after I started working here, and I can’t help smilingat how in love she and Ryan are… and how they don’t mind showing it.

It’s a novelty for me.

“That’s because you were too busy enjoying yourselves,” he says, pulling back and smiling across at me. “How are you, Macy?”

“I’m fine, thanks.”

He smiles, nodding his head and looking back down at Peony. “And how’s my beautiful wife?”

“She’s okay,” Peony says.

“And my beautiful son?”

“He’s asleep… for once.”

Ryan chuckles. “I thought I’d come home for lunch.”

“This is becoming a habit,” Peony says, getting to her feet. He pulls her into his arms, looking down into her eyes, and while I know I should probably look away, or pretend to be busy, I can’t help watching them. They look good together. Ryan is a classic tall, dark, handsome man, who wears his handmade suit very well indeed. You might ask how I know it’s handmade, and the answer is I don’t. Not for sure. But Ryan is a millionaire. My aunt told me that when I announced I’d got a job here. And I can’t imagine millionaires wear off-the-peg suits. Besides, it fits too well.

“Are you complaining?” he asks, holding her close.

“Never.”

He chuckles and kisses her again… and this time I look away.

It’s that kind of kiss.

---