Best Laid Wedding Plans (26 page)

He reached across the table for her hand, laced their fingers.

“Thing is, Jenni Beth, my feelings for you…” He stopped. Huffed out a breath, then gave a half-laugh. “You've got me nervous as hell.”

“Cole—”

“No, let me finish. It's like I've got this anchor tied to my leg, holding me back.”

The slate blue of her eyes deepened. “Don't go all dark and heavy on me. I've enjoyed tonight, and I want to keep it that way.”

“But—”

“No. Tonight has been the best.”

“It can be better.”

She patted her heart. “I'm not sure I can survive better.”

“Oh, yeah, you can. Come here. Let me show you. Again.”

And he did.

Jenni Beth hummed as she tugged on the old University of Georgia T-shirt. It had been a week since dinner at Cole's house. He'd called, but it wasn't the same as having him here.

As great as the night had been, though, a huge weight still rested on her shoulders.

He'd been right. They should have had the Savannah discussion. Sooner or later, they had to stop dancing around it and admit he'd been a jerk. That, maybe, she'd expected too much.

She was working on that.

Yes, she and Cole fit together perfectly—in bed. Out of it? She wasn't sure they meshed. They had different goals.

No matter how many times she denied wanting it all, she did. The husband, the kids, the white picket fence.

Cole didn't want any of that.

Which meant he'd walk again.

Downstairs, she and Charlotte got into a tussle over breakfast. She didn't want any; Charlotte insisted she eat. Finally, to restore peace, she ate a piece of toast standing at the counter. When the housekeeper handed her a banana, she sighed and ate it, too.

“We good now?”

“Yes, we are,” Charlotte said. “You can go outside and play.”

Jenni Beth tried to glower, but the chuckle spoiled it. Stepping onto the porch, a cup of coffee in hand, she spotted Beck cutting lumber.

“You're here early.”

“I am.”

“Can I borrow Charlie?” she asked.

“You bet. Charlie! You're workin' with the boss today.”

“The boss.” She snorted. “As if.”

“Mornin', Jenni Beth.” Coming around the corner of the house, Charlie, one of the best finish carpenters in the business, tipped his Falcons cap. “Let me gather my tools and we can get started on whatever it is you're wantin' done.”

“The carriage house.”

She practically danced, couldn't wait to tackle it. While she still planned to use her attic workspace for the real nitty-gritty of the business, the small outbuilding would be her showroom, her official greet-prospective-clients space. There, she'd set her secret decorator's heart free in the carriage house. Romance. Candles. Champagne and crystal flutes. A bridal gown displayed on a bouquet-carrying mannequin.

Everything she'd ever wanted.

No.

Everything a
bride,
a Magnolia House bride, could ever want.

Not her.

Except in her secret heart of hearts.

Charlie ran to his truck to grab a few tools, and she sank to the building's stoop to finish her coffee.

Resting her chin in her palm, she closed her eyes and let the sun warm her. She pushed aside negative thoughts and filled her head with visions of fairies and sugarplums instead.

What in the heck was a sugarplum anyway? It had to be something to eat. Maybe they could list them on the menu.

Somewhere in this big old house there had to be another pretty little chandelier dripping in crystals for the bridal suite's powder room. She'd scour the house later. In the meantime, she couldn't wait to hang the cherub chandelier, with its pink medallion. She'd unpacked it a dozen times just to look at it. Cole had hit a home run.

A couple of the guys had dragged the occasional chairs she'd found on the second floor up to her bedroom. She'd reupholster them in a fun, flowery print that picked up the pink in the medallion.

Hopefully she could order the fabric from Darlene and start pumping money into the town. That it was her dollars seemed almost inconsequential because eventually the cash would return from outsiders.

She couldn't go too far overboard, too feminine, or the grooms wouldn't darken her door. Still, the emphasis had to be on the bride. When it came right down to it, it was her day.

Charlie headed toward her toting a small, heavy-looking metal box. “Got what I need. Let's get to work.”

And work they did.

Jenni Beth had made another trip to Dinky Tubbs's salvage yard and unearthed the perfect old pedestal sink with a handcrafted mermaid faucet and handles. After more than a little time and a whole bunch of elbow grease, they shone like new—but better. Charlie, with a hand from Jeeters, installed it, along with a toilet she'd found. A small chair completed the room.

The carriage house's dark wood walls soaked up the natural light from the large bay window. Since she wanted the illusion of airy and bright, she and Charlie sanded the walls and put an ivory white finish on them. Again with Jeeters's help, they changed out the front door with a pair of French doors she'd found in a shed out back. Charlie added a wide chair rail so she could display items and the brochures she planned to have printed.

Her pièce de résistance? The cherub chandelier, dripping with crystals.

When Charlie finished hanging it, she flipped the switch. “Oh my gosh,” she whispered. “It's totally perfect.”

“A little girlie for my taste.” He tucked his pliers in his back pocket. “But I've got a feeling that's exactly what you want in here. Give those brides of yours that touch of romance, huh?”

“Exactly.”

When he stepped off his small ladder, she threw her arms around him. “Thank you, Charlie.”

He blushed. “Just doin' my job.”

“You're doing more than that. You're bringing new life to this place.”

His blush deepened.

“And I've embarrassed you.”

“I can live with that.” He laughed. “It's not every day a pretty little thing like you gives me a hug. Can't take it too seriously, though, seein' as how you're about the same age as my granddaughter.”

* * *

Every muscle in Jenni Beth's body ached. She and Charlie had worked their butts off yesterday, but, oh, was it worth it. Today, though, she'd find a few less strenuous jobs.

Tucked inside a bureau drawer, she uncovered a pair of pewter candlesticks. Her gut insisted they'd be perfect on the small table by the side window. Eager to see how they'd look, she headed for her office.

She'd barely opened the French doors and stepped inside when the phone rang. For an instant, she hesitated. Gathering her wits, she answered, “Magnolia Brides. Let us plan the perfect wedding for you.”

She grinned. What the heck. Might as well try it out.

To her surprise, the woman on the other end gave a little squeal of delight. “Is this Jenni Beth Beaumont?”

“Yes, it is.”

“My name's Stella Reinhardt, and I am so excited to talk to you.”

Jenni Beth dropped onto the window seat, the candlesticks cradled in her lap. “How can I help you, Stella?”

“Lorrie Davis—You know Lorrie Davis, right?”

“I sure do. We went to school together.”

Lorrie had, in fact, been a year ahead of Jenni Beth and hell on wheels. Lorrie and Cole might have had something going on for a bit. Actually, Jenni Beth suspected a fairly large percentage of Misty Bottoms High School boys had had something going on with Lorrie.

“She told me you were opening your home as a wedding venue, so I went online and checked out your website. Magnolia House is so beautiful! I have to have my wedding there, Ms. Beaumont!”

Jenni Beth nearly jumped out of her skin. A client! A real, honest-to-goodness client.

She fanned herself, took a few seconds. “When is your wedding?”

“That's the kicker,” Stella said. “Two weeks from last Saturday. You're booked, aren't you?”

“Two weeks?”
Yikes
. Jenni Beth wanted to cry. Her very first client, and she had to turn her down. Nothing for it but to tell the truth.

“Actually, Stella, I'm afraid this is that good news, bad news scenario. We're not booked.”

She heard a little cry of joy and hurried on. “But…we're not ready for a wedding yet. We're in the middle of a major renovation.”

“No!”

“Believe me, I'm so sorry. I feel as badly as you do.”

“But I've always dreamed of getting married at a Southern plantation. Is there any way?”

“I don't—”

“How about the rose garden? I saw it on your site, and that's actually where Bear and I want to get married. Outside, with Magnolia House in the background.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. We're bikers, my fiancé and I. Harley riders. We'd prefer outdoors.”

“Bikers?”

“Yep. But we're not rowdy or anything,” she added quickly. “I mean, we're not gonna make a mess at your house. Bear and I—” She laughed. “Bear. That's what I call Steve. We just want to get married.” Jenni Beth heard the love. The wistfulness. “And I want somewhere gorgeous. I want your rose garden.”

Her mind kicked into gear. The garden was still a little rough, but it could be ready.

“If we can have our cake in the garden,” Stella said, “maybe our first dance, we'd like to have the reception at Duffy's Pub.”

Jenni Beth could have reached through the line and kissed her. “You've been to Misty Bottoms before?”

“Lots of times. We ride through on our way to bike week in Ft. Lauderdale.”

“Hmmm. Duffy's Pub. I'm not sure how many—”

“It's a small group. Including us, there'll probably be twelve to fifteen, give or take a couple.”

They discussed dressing rooms, what kind of cake she wanted, flowers. Stella would get dressed right here in Jenni Beth's office, then her maid of honor would drive her out to the rose garden on the back of a Harley. The groom would change in the downstairs study.

By the time they hung up, Jenni Beth had pages of scribbled notes. She and Stella could handle the remaining details by email. All the bride had to do was show up. Jenni Beth would see to the details.

Her first booking!

White roses, tulle, and lace. Beaded gowns and champagne. And for this first wedding? Harleys! She wanted to spend the rest of her life up to her neck in this.

A celebration was in order.

* * *

Cole stomped the dirt off his boots and knocked on Magnolia House's front door. It looked like some good stuff happening here. Lots had been accomplished in a very short period of time. Beck had himself a good team of men.

When Mrs. Beaumont answered the door, Cole snatched off his Atlanta Braves ball cap and raked his fingers through his hat hair. “Evenin', ma'am.”

“Oh, Cole.” She took him by the hand and led him inside. “Isn't this lovely?” She ran the tip of her shoe over the newly sanded floor. “Beck tells me they'll stain them tomorrow. Thank you for all your help, sweetheart.”

He took her proffered kiss and returned it with one on her petal-soft cheek. She smelled of lilacs. Always had. Wes's mom was a lady through and through, born to the Southern way.

His mom was a lady, too, but Emma Bryson didn't go in for quite as much pampering. They'd had livestock when he was younger, and the barn had been a working one. Taking care of cattle was a seven-day-a-week, dawn-to-dusk job. So his mom and dad had labored hard. The Beaumonts and the Brysons didn't run in the same social circles, except on poker night. But that hadn't made a bit of difference to him and Wes, brothers by all but birth.

“Is Jenni Beth here?”

“Oh, she's around somewhere. Honestly, she was down on this floor like a common laborer a couple days ago. After that, she and Charlie Pearce worked all yesterday in the carriage house.” Mrs. Beaumont shook her head. “Todd tells me not to stew about it, that things have changed, and our daughter is doing what needs to be done.”

She looked up at him with those same slate-blue eyes Jenni Beth saw in the mirror every day. Those eyes that drove him wild. That saw too much, knew too much. Too often hurt too much.

“That's where she is now. Out in the carriage house.” Todd stepped into the hallway, a glass of iced tea in hand. He held it up. “Want a cold drink?”

“No, thanks. I need to run a couple things past your daughter.”

Mr. Beaumont slapped Cole on the back. “I want to add my thanks. You and Beck have really pitched in to help Jenni Beth with this crazy idea of hers.” He hesitated. “To be perfectly truthful, it's important to all of us. We're taking on water here at Magnolia House. Sue Ellen and I have pretty much made a muddle of things. And shame on us for that.”

He reached for his wife's hand, took it in his, and lightly rubbed his thumb over the back of it. “Things weren't great before, but after Wes…” He stopped, cleared his throat.

“I understand,” Cole said. “Believe me, I miss your son every morning and every night and a dozen times in between.”

Mrs. Beaumont swiped at tears. “You're such a blessing.”

“Jenni Beth loves you both.”

“We know that,” Mr. Beaumont said. “I'm afraid we've let her down, too. We've really screwed up.”

“No.” Cole shook his head. “You haven't. You simply staggered a little under the weight of it all. This plan of Jenni Beth's? It'll be good for the entire family.”

Mr. Beaumont met his gaze. “She thinks she can save the whole town.”

Cole chuckled. “And knowin' your daughter? She just might do that.”

Todd laughed. “You're right.”

Cole reached for the doorknob. “I'm gonna go see if I can find her.”

“You'll be surprised at what she's done out there. Looks like a different space all together.”

“It's so romantic,” Mrs. Beaumont added. “So—weddingish. I helped her choose the wall color.”

With a smile, Cole excused himself and headed along the brick path to the carriage house. Jenni Beth had already accomplished one mammoth goal. Her parents were interested in something other than their own grief.

“Well done, sweetheart,” he murmured.