A Misty Harbor Wedding (17 page)

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Authors: Marcia Evanick

BOOK: A Misty Harbor Wedding
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Steve looked at Juliet as she got to her feet. The only reason she stood up was she felt stupid sitting on the floor. Both men were six feet or above, and Sierra was close to that mark. It was hurting her neck to look up that far. When she had been sitting, she had been a condensed mess and praying to blend into the chaos around her. Standing, she was a five-feet, nine-inch mess. With the tip of her finger, she pushed her glasses back up.
Gordon looked at her, then Steve. “Steven Blake, I would like you to meet Juliet Carlyle. Juliet, Steven.”
“Mr. Blake.” She brushed at the dust covering one side of her T-shirt.
“Please, call me Steve.”
“Juliet's the daughter of a dear, close friend of mine. She's visiting our town and helping me straighten up the shop, as you can see.” There was a calculated gleam in Gordon's gaze. “I'm trying to get her to explore the area—you know, sightsee and enjoy herself—but so far she's done nothing but work.”
“We can't have that.” Steve reached into the pocket of his jacket and handed Juliet a ticket. “A complimentary ticket for the whale-watching tour.”
She took the ticket. She wasn't sure if Steve went around handing out complimentary tickets all the time, or if there was something more behind the gesture. “Thank you.”
“You're welcome. I hope to see you on one of the tours soon.”
“I'll be there. It was one of the things I wanted to do while here.” She had been planning on it since seeing him down at the docks.
Steve gave her a smile. “Great.” He grinned down at Austin. “Gotta go, buddy. There's another tour leaving soon and the whales are waiting.”
“Wow,” Austin said.
“See you later, Gordon.” He nodded at Sierra. “Ma'am.” He gave Juliet a long look that seemed to study every angle of her face, before saying, “Juliet.” Steve turned without saying another word and walked out of the shop.
She stared down at the red ticket in her hand. “My goodness.” She wasn't in the habit of receiving complimentary anything from handsome strangers. “He didn't do any browsing?” Steven Blake hadn't even glanced at a book, pipe, or magazine.
Gordon grinned and teased. “I think he got exactly what he wanted.”
For the first time she could remember, an appropriate quote failed her.
Sierra helped three-year-old Morgan reel in her line. It was easy to tell which line in the crisscrossing fishing strings was Morgan's. Hers had the Snoopy in the inner-tube bobber. As the plastic bobber left the water, Sierra saw what the problem was with the line. The hook was attached to a small stick with some gross-looking algae hanging from it. The worm was nowhere in sight.
“Not a fishie.” Morgan poked her finger at the stick in disgust. The little girl had been hopping up and down hoping that she had caught a big fish.
She quickly caught the little girl's hand before the hook got her. “Don't touch, Morgan. Remember, the hook will stick you.”
Morgan made a face and sat down on the pebble shore. Disgusted with the whole fishing experience, she began to play with the small stones.
Sierra tried not to laugh. Morgan was definitely Tyler's sister. The two were identical in their expressions.
Hunter, seeing that his cousin had already abandoned the game, handed Matt his little blue pole. “I'm done.” Hunter joined Morgan on the ground, which was part dirt, part sand, and was covered with a lot of stones.
Ten minutes of fishing was obviously a three-year-old's limit. Now she understood why Kay had handed her a cardboard box filled with plastic shovels and pails to take along on their adventure. It was bad enough that they had to borrow Jill's SUV, which could hold four car seats and two adults, but it also held boxes of toys, half a dozen fishing poles and tackle boxes, a cooler filled with drinks, and a basket filled with lunch. There had also been Sunblock, a change of clothes for each child, and two blankets shoved into the mess.
She had traveled cross country with Austin and Rosemary packing less.
“Matt, I'm going to run up to the car and get the box of toys.” She gestured to the two three-year-olds fighting over a greenish rock. “Can you keep an eye on these two for a second?”
Matt looked up from where he was busy trying to untangle Austin's line from Tyler's. “I'll get it for you.”
“You have your hands full.” She would rather climb the slight slope up to the car than listen to the boys argue about whose line tangled up with whose first. “Austin, behave, please.”
“Oh, Mom,” Austin groused.
Tyler's chuckle earned him a stern look from his uncle. “I really don't need to say anything, do I?” questioned Matt.
“Naw.” Tyler looked at Austin and grinned. “Sorry.”
“Sorry,” Austin said back with a smile.
Matt rolled his eyes as Sierra turned to climb the slope. She had never seen Austin happier than he had been these past two weeks. It wasn't all because he was spending time with her, and they were on vacation, and she wasn't constantly being pulled away with work. Tyler and the other Porter children were the main reasons. Her son had made friends.
It was going to devastate Austin when they had to leave. She should be registering her son in a preschool next month. Instead she had no idea where she'd be staying come the end of September. One thing she did know, she'd be wherever her father felt her expertise was needed.
She opened up the back hatch of the SUV and pulled out the cardboard box and a heavy blanket. She was thirty-one, and her father still ran her life. The hatch slammed shut with a little more force than necessary. By running her life, her father was now running Austin's too.
It had been okay in the beginning. Austin was such a joy to take with her everywhere she went. He had been an expert traveler by the time he could walk, and besides, she had Rosemary to take care of him while she worked and handled business. Austin now needed a home—a real home, not a string of hotels where he was spoiled by every staff member in every Randall Hotel. Austin was, after all, Lucas Randall's only grandchild.
She carried the box down to the shoreline and saw the laughter and joy on Austin's face as Matt squatted next to him giving him tips and advice on how to catch the big one. Austin didn't get a lot of male attention. His father, Jake, was a workaholic. She had married and then had a child with a man just like her own father.
Although her own father loved her and would get her anything her heart desired, he never gave her what she had wanted the most: time, and acceptance for who she was and what she could do. Her father treated her like some fragile, emotional woman who would fall apart under the least bit of strain and pressure. She understood his reasons because her mother had been one of those physically delicate and emotional women.
She wasn't her mother, unless she looked into the mirror—then her mother's face stared back at her. Sierra had inherited her mother's looks, and her father's brains for business. For thirty-one years she had been determined to make her father see the difference between his daughter and his beloved deceased wife. No matter what she did, he still treated her with kid gloves.
Sierra placed the box on the ground. “Hunter and Morgan, there's all kinds of beach toys in here.” She was happy to see that whoever packed the box had done a great job. There were enough toys to go around.
Morgan snatched up a pink bucket. “That's mine.”
Hunter grabbed the biggest plastic shovel and the red sieve.
She found a dry spot to sit, spread the blanket, and enjoyed the family squabbling. This was what being a family was all about. This was what she never had being a child with no siblings or even cousins. She had never had anyone to fight with.
Matt joined her on the blanket. “This wasn't exactly what I had in mind when I invited you and Austin fishing.”
She glanced over to where Austin and Tyler were standing about six feet apart so their lines wouldn't tangle again. Both were staring intently at their bobbers. Hunter and Morgan were busy emptying every toy out of the box and getting dirty.
Matt, on the other hand, looked clean, handsome, and totally irresistible dressed in cargo shorts, a T-shirt, and sandals. She had missed him yesterday while she and Austin had explored parts of Mount Desert Island. Long into the night she had laid in bed thinking about what Matt had said to her Wednesday night: that he thought he was falling in love with her. Logic told her to back away from him. She was leaving in a couple weeks.
Logic had nothing to do with the wonder she had felt at those words.
“I really don't mind having Hunter and Morgan along.” When they had shown up at Matt's parents' house to pick up Tyler, the entire family had been there working on the yards. They would need both the Porters' backyard and Joanna's cottage backyard to hold the number of people coming to the wedding. “This gives their parents a chance to get some more work done on the yards and gardens. It's looking wonderful, by the way. You guys must have been at it pretty late last night.”
“When it became dark, Kay and Jill took the kids home, but Paul and John stayed. We rigged up some lights to see by. I guess we worked till about eleven.”
She had been impressed with the amount of work they had managed to do in one evening. “With the hedges ripped out and sod put down, the two yards combined will be plenty of room for the wedding.”
“My mom's thrilled that her yard is getting a garden or two put in.” Matt leaned back onto his elbows and stretched his legs out in front of him. “Joanna and Karl shopped for two full days to buy all those plants that now have to be planted, and the mulch is being delivered sometime today.”
Sierra stretched out her legs. They weren't nearly as long as Matt's. The sun felt wonderful, while not being too hot and oppressive. “So, honestly, what would you rather be doing, digging gardens or fishing here?” The two bigger poles that Matt had brought for them to use were still in the SUV.
“Here”—Matt looked at her—“with you, of course.”
She felt a tug of desire at his words. “So why were you fighting with Paul earlier?” She had seen the brothers exchanging words, but she couldn't tell if they had been teasing each other or not.
“We weren't fighting. He said that you and I were getting the easier part of the deal. I called his bluff ”—Matt smirked—“and said fine, that he and Jill should take all the kids fishing and you and I would play in the dirt.”
She chuckled. “I wouldn't have minded.” As long as someone gave her detailed directions on how to do what needed to be done. The only time she had ever planted anything was during the summer she had been about eight. She had followed the gardener around everywhere, and once in a while, probably to shut her up, he had allowed her to help.
“You're supposed to be on vacation, Sierra.” Matt shook his head. “You've done enough with the wedding. Norah and Ned were singing your praises all last night.”
“About?” She hoped Matt's sunglasses prevented him from seeing the blush sweeping up her cheeks. She didn't want kudos for enjoying herself. Besides, all the running around she was doing for the wedding was allowing her to see the surrounding area and towns, something she was supposed to be doing anyway.
“Everything. I hear you solved the catering problem.”
“The idea fell into my lap. I can't take credit for it.” She shook her head. “Your mom and sisters-in-law did a lot of the bargaining, and Joanna did the rest.”
“How did that idea fall into your lap?” Matt leaned closer and stole a quick kiss while the kids weren't looking.
She grinned, even though it wasn't nearly the kind of kiss she had been hoping for. “On the way out of town Thursday, there was a car wash being run by the cheerleaders from the local high school. The rental needed to be cleaned, so while Austin and I were standing there, I overheard them complaining about how they were never going to reach their goal. Seems their squad is good enough to go to Dallas, Texas, for the championships, but they need some major fund-raising to do it. The mothers who were supervising were tossing around some more ideas to get money for the girls when it hit me: hire the squad to act as caterers for the wedding.”
Matt laughed. “The Hancock High School cheerleaders are catering my brother's wedding? Please tell me they'll be in uniforms.”
She lightly punched him in the arm. “You're horrible. They will not be wearing their uniforms. Nor will they be doing the actual cooking. Their parents and they will be serving, making sure everything is running smoothly, and handling the cleaning-up. They also will be making up cheese, vegetable, and fruit trays. Joanna got together with a bunch of the girls and parents Thursday night and worked out the details.

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