A Misty Harbor Wedding (9 page)

“Mind? Of course I don't mind.” His heart would have been crushed if she had turned around and driven out of his life so soon after entering it. “Do you have a place to stay?”

“Not yet. I wasn't sure what I would find, so I didn't make any hotel reservations.” Juliet relaxed a bit. “I did pass a Motor Inn on the way into town.”

He made a rude sound. “You can't stay there. I can call a local bed-and-breakfast to see if they have a room, or you can stay here with me. I actually have a very small guest room upstairs in my apartment. My brother and his wife make use of it whenever they come to visit. The choice is up to you.” How desperate did that sound, offering his daughter the guest room?

“The bed-and-breakfast sounds nice.”

He tried not to let his feelings show. After all, he was a complete stranger to her. He headed for the phone. “I'll give Olivia a call and see if she has room.” Olivia Wycliffe was due any day now, but he knew she had someone helping her with the bed and breakfast she owned.

Two minutes later, Juliet had a room, and the bill was coming to him.

“Now it's only a couple streets away from here.” He drew a quick map on a piece of scrap paper. “You can't miss it.”

“I'm sure I can find it.” Juliet took the map and turned to the front door. “You really don't have to take me out to dinner. I'm sure you have something better to do with your time.”

“There is nothing on this earth that would give me greater joy than taking you to dinner tonight.” Hell, he didn't even want her to leave the shop. He was scared to death she would disappear from his life for another twenty-six years. At fifty-six years old, he wasn't sure if he had another twenty-six years left in him. “I'll pick you up a little before seven. The Catch of the Day is the best restaurant in town.”

“I'll be waiting.” Juliet gave him a sweet smile and walked out the door.

Matt had a feeling that the family cookout would head in this direction, and he would be powerless to stop it. At least his father and brothers looked as helpless as he felt. The women were sitting at one picnic table discussing Ned and Norah's upcoming wedding, while the men were supposed to be watching the kids and getting dinner on the table.

It was easier said than done.

Three-month-old Amanda was screaming her head off, and if the aroma coming from that direction was any indication, he didn't envy his brother Paul's job. His father was manning the grill while Ned and Norah's new stepfather, Karl James, were in the kitchen getting things together. He and John were supposed to be watching the older kids as they ran around the backyard.

Herding kittens would have been easier.

Tyler and Austin had joined forces with three-year-old Morgan and Hunter. Between chasing chipmunks under the shrubs, trying to ride Ned's big black Newfoundland, Flipper, or teasing Zsa Zsa, the Pomeranian with an attitude, it was impossible to keep track of them all. Three-year-old Morgan had been trying to get the pink bow out of the tiny dog's hair. Zsa Zsa wanted no part of Morgan and her sticky fingers. The four-pound Pomeranian had big brown eyes only for the 150-pound Newfoundland.

“Morgan, get away from Zsa Zsa before she snaps at you,” called John, who was dragging Tyler out from under a bush. “Your mother said not to get dirty.” John shook his head at his son. The entire front of Tyler was coated in dirt and dust. A twig was sticking out of his hair and half a back pocket on his shorts was hanging by a thread.

It was a typical Porter barbecue, only this time, he had two invited guests, and with Ned's future in-laws there, his father had to set up a folding table to handle the overflow. Sierra and Austin blended right in with the rowdy crowd. In fact, since they'd arrived, he hadn't been able to talk to his own date. He couldn't kid himself any longer—this was a date.

He was dating a tourist and her son. No wonder his brothers were looking at him with sympathy in their eyes. Everyone knew August was “heartbreak month” in Misty Harbor. The way things were going, his heart was going to at least get stepped on, if not crushed. Sierra was becoming very important to him, and he hadn't even kissed her yet. He watched as Sierra and Norah bent their heads over a pad of paper. Night and day. Norah had short, red, spiky hair and about twenty earrings glittering in her ears. Sierra's long blond hair was let down tonight in a classic style.

He knew the women were talking about Ned and Norah's upcoming wedding, but he didn't understand what all the jabbering was about. How difficult could it be to plan a wedding? The way the women were going on, someone would think the queen of England and the president were going to be invited.

“Hey, Matt, grab Austin before he hurts himself,” called his father.

He glanced over to where he'd last seen Austin and felt his heart plummet to his knees. Austin was hanging upside down from a tree limb. He sprinted across the yard and grabbed the little monkey. “Hey, how did you get up there?” Austin hadn't been too far off the ground, but someone had to help him reach the low limb.

Austin grinned but remained mute. Tyler and Hunter looked guilty.

He glanced over at Sierra to see if she'd noticed Austin's Tarzan imitation. She had one finely arched golden brow raised and she gave him a look that made him extremely thankful that nothing had harmed her son. He grimaced but smiled back.

Austin waved to his mother. “Mom, did you see me?” he shouted.

“Sure did, sweetie,” she said before turning her attention to Matt. Sierra gave him another long look and then winked.

“We're hungry, Uncle Matt,” complained Tyler.

“What else is new?” Matt wondered if the wink meant he was forgiven. “Let's go see what's holding up the food.” Surely once the food was brought out the women would cease their planning and he would be able to talk to his date. He headed for the house with Austin on his shoulders and Hunter and Tyler bringing up the rear. His brother John was busy chasing his daughter, Morgan, who was running after Zsa Zsa with an evil look upon her face and a butterfly net clutched in her fist.

The first thing he noticed as he entered the house was the smell. By his brother Paul's “goo-gooing” and “gaa-gaaing” he could tell that baby Amanda was being changed in the other room. His niece wasn't the cause of the stench. “What reeks?”

His brother Ned was standing in front of the open oven door and wearing huge red lobster pot holders. He was holding a casserole dish. “Mom's beans.”

All he could see was a thick layer of ash that was slowly bubbling. “What did you do to them?” His mother's baked beans were horrible, but they usually didn't resemble the city of Pompeii.

“I didn't do anything to them,” Ned said as he placed the dish onto the counter. “Mom set the timer, and I was supposed to take them out when it went off.”

Karl James tugged at his beard, trying to hide his grin from the boys, who were staring at the dish in complete fascination. “Joanna gave your mom her recipe for them.”

“Do your wife's baked beans look like this?” Ned picked up a fork and poked one of the bubbles. A small cloud of ash billowed into the air.

Karl took the fork from Ned's hand and poked at another globule of air. Another small explosion of ash rose above the casserole dish. “Can't say that I've ever seen anything like this.”

Tyler's eyes grew wide and he shuddered. “Do we have to eat that?”

“Yuck,” added Austin. From the boy's perch on Matt's shoulders, he had a clear view of destruction.

“Don't you guys worry about it. We'll figure out something.” He had no idea what, but there was no way anyone could eat that and be healthy enough to attend Ned's wedding in two weeks. They also couldn't hurt his mother's feelings. Peggy Porter had feelings beneath her tough facade. Of course she might knock a couple of her sons' heads together while expressing those tender feelings.

“How about we all help get this stuff outside?” The countertop and table were overflowing with food. He plucked Austin off his shoulders and set him on his feet. “You can carry the mustard and ketchup.” He handed Austin the plastic containers and then started handing out the other stuff for the youngsters to carry. Light and nonbreakable was the rule.

Karl and Ned each picked up a large bowl of salad and headed out back. Paul was still in their parents' room changing Amanda, and John was out back. Why was he always stuck with the dirty job?

With the kitchen empty, there was no time like the present. “Leave no witnesses” had always been the Porter boys' motto when they were young. He moved out of the splash zone and, using a long spatula, pushed the casserole dish off the counter and onto the floor. The loud crash was heard out back. He could hear “What was that?” coming from a couple people.

By the time his mother and brother Ned rushed into the kitchen he had the dustpan out and was gathering up the broken pieces of the dish and the congealed glob of beans.

“What happened?” asked his mother, looking at the mess on the floor.

“I'm sorry, Mom, it slipped.” He pretended not to hear Ned cough. “I'll buy you a new dish. I know how much you liked this one.” He kept his eyes on the mess. If he looked at his brother he was sure to laugh. At one time or another, all through their youth, various dishes had slipped. Even his father had been known to drop a few.

“Well, clean up the mess.” His mother stepped around him and grabbed the basket filled with rolls. “Krup's General Store carries the blue set of cookware that matches everything else your brothers or father buy to replace what they break.” Peggy Porter pushed opened the screen door and disappeared onto the back patio.

Matt cringed when he heard his mom say, “It's nothing. Matt, the klutz, dropped the baked beans, so we are going to have to do without them tonight. I swear, the men in this family have blubber on their fingers with the way things slip out of their hands all the time. How any of them manage to keep all their fingers and toes when they work around power tools is beyond me.”

Paul, who was standing in the bedroom doorway with a now-smiling Amanda in his arms, laughed. “I bought her a new Crock-Pot last month and I had to drive all the way into Sullivan to pick up a bucket of chicken to replace the tuna stew she had made.” Paul shuddered at the memory.

Ned got some paper towels and wet them. “I remember the tuna stew. Norah told me the wedding was off if I made her eat any of it.”

“So why didn't you drop the Crock-Pot?” groused Paul. “The new one she liked set me back fifty bucks and now Jill is complaining that my mother has a bigger Crock-Pot. She wants a new one too.”

“You got to it first.” Ned smiled and handed Matt the wet towels.

He took the towels. “Hey, a little help here.” The beans had splattered everywhere but thankfully none had landed on him. There were even beans dripping down the cabinet doors. He'd saved the family from having to choke down the beans, or finding ways to dispose of them off their plates without his mother seeing them. The least his brothers could do was help clean up the mess.

Paul and Ned both laughed, picked up the remaining food, and headed out the door. “Why should we help? We weren't the ones to drop it, klutz.”

He uttered a curse as the screen door slammed. Great, now Sierra was going to think he was a klutz. He cleaned up the major part of the spill and tossed everything into the garbage can.

Armed with the roll of towels and some orange spray cleaner, he started to wipe down the cabinet doors.

“Need any help?” Sierra had quietly sneaked up on him.

“Thanks, but I got it.” Now he felt like a real idiot. Thankfully most of the mess was history. “I'm usually not this clumsy.” It was a little hard to explain how broken baking dishes could prevent food poisoning. It would be stupid to even try.

“Norah just let me in on the secret.” Sierra leaned her hip against the counter and frowned at the few remaining cabinet doors he had yet to wipe down. “I've never seen baked beans that color before. Why are they gray?”

“No one knew, and no one was brave enough to taste them to see what secret ingredient my mother might have added to this batch.” His mother once had added sardines to spaghetti sauce.

“Why is it smearing like that?” Sierra bent down to study the gray smear left behind after the first wipe. She reached out a finger and touched the streak. A gray residue coated the tip of her finger. “It's powdery.”

“It's ash.” He sprayed the cabinet and wiped it clean. “Now you know why I accidentally dropped the dish.”

“Smart move.” Sierra stood up, walked over to the sink, and washed her hands. “So you're not only a nice guy and a great brother, but a hero too.”

“How do you figure that?” He cleaned the last cabinet door and tossed the used paper towel. He joined Sierra at the sink.

“You're nice because you didn't want to hurt your mom's feelings”—Sierra playfully bumped his hip with hers and reached for a towel to dry her hands—“and you're a hero for not making any of us eat whatever that was in the dish you broke.”

“ ‘Hero' is stretching it a bit.” He wasn't a hero. Just a simple coward who had eaten one too many meals his mother had fixed. The first allowance he had ever received had been spent on a bottle of Pepto-Bismol.

“I think it's cute.” Sierra handed him the towel.

For the first time he noticed he had Sierra alone and all to himself. No Austin, no brothers, and no other family members to distract her. “So you think I'm cute?” he teased as he dried his hands.

Sierra's laugh was low and seductive. “There is that, but that's not what I said.”

He loved her smile. It was reflected in her eyes. “So you do think I'm cute.” Hell, no man wanted to be known as “cute,” but he wasn't about to get choosy at this stage of the game. He'd take “cute.” They both were crowded into the corner of the kitchen. He could smell the light scent of her perfume. Sierra wore the fragrance of a fresh, cool summer breeze with just a hint of flowers. The perfume alone raised his blood pressure. He watched her eyes as he reached out a finger and slowly traced her lower lip.

Sierra's eyes flared opened with heat, and she seemed to have stopped breathing.

Whatever he was feeling, Sierra was feeling it too. He hadn't been imagining this connection between them.

“Hey,” called Ned as he opened the screen door, “everyone is looking for you two.” Ned grinned as he strolled into the kitchen.

Sierra blushed and quickly stepped away. Matt turned to his brother and wondered what he could chuck across the room to wipe that smile off his face. “Was there anything else you wanted, Ned?”

“Mom sent me in for the deviled eggs Jill brought.” Ned walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out a tray. Two dozen deviled eggs slipped and slid across the plastic tray but thankfully none landed on the floor. “She also said for you two to knock off whatever you're doing and get your butts on out there.”

He wanted to bury his face into his hands and howl. Sierra was going to think his whole family was crude and insensitive. “Tell her we'll be right there,” he muttered between clenched teeth.

“I have to go check on Austin.” Sierra hurried out the door without a backward glance.

“Oops.” Ned shrugged. “I guess I interrupted something.”

“You could say that.” He had no idea what Ned had interrupted, but whatever it was, the heat of the moment had been about to consume them both.