Читать онлайн книгу «Healed with a Kiss» автора GINA WILKINS

Healed with a Kiss
GINA WILKINS
One night is never enough!There are many words people use to describe Logan Carmichael, but romantic is not one of them. Even he can see the irony that he has become co-owner of the Bride Mountain Inn! Until he falls – hard – for the one woman who is determined to stay just out of his reach…Alexis Mosley might be the only wedding planner in the world who doesn’t believe in happily-ever-after. She believes she and Logan can just ‘keep things casual’ – nothing more. But as she surrenders herself to him each night, Alexis begins to wonder if they might have a fairytale ending after all…


From the Desk of Alexis Mosley,
Wedding Planner
Today’s To-Do List
1. Feed the cat.
2. Confirm floral delivery for tomorrow’s wedding.
3. Check with Kinley Carmichael re: seating arrangements for reception. Look surprised when her brother Logan appears.
4. Check with Logan re: lighting for garden ceremony. Act as if we barely know each other.
5. Make sure house is clean before Logan comes over tonight.
6. Have an evening of amour with Logan. Pretend it doesn’t mean anything.
7. Do not, under any circumstances, fall in love!
BRIDE MOUNTAIN:
Where a walk down the aisle is never far away…
Healed With a Kiss
Gina Wilkins


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
GINA WILKINS is a bestselling and award-winning author who has written more than seventy novels. She credits her successful career in romance to her long, happy marriage and her three “extraordinary” children.
A lifelong resident of central Arkansas, Ms Wilkins sold her first book to Mills & Boon in 1987 and has been writing full-time since. She has appeared on the Waldenbooks, B. Dalton and USA TODAY bestseller lists. She is a three-time recipient of a Maggie Award for Excellence, sponsored by Georgia Romance Writers, and has won several awards from the reviewers of RT Book Reviews.
For my Izzie, who is always curled beside me
to keep me company while I write.
Contents
Chapter One (#u55a50db6-dc2d-549f-af01-d60e8e657628)
Chapter Two (#u45fc79ad-0322-54ed-b5d8-54e205adab4c)
Chapter Three (#u1f72ce32-8a7b-51a9-934c-42f3965406b1)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
Alexis Mosley stood toe to toe with innkeeper Logan Carmichael, not at all intimidated by his dark scowl. “I don’t think my client is asking that much of you, really,” she said coolly. “Can you provide the services she wants or not?”
“Your client,” he retorted with a deep line carved between his straight, dark eyebrows, “needs to get a grip on reality. This is Southwest Virginia, not Montego Bay. If she wants a Jamaican beach wedding, she should hold it there. Or at the least make the five-hour drive to Virginia Beach and get married where there’s an actual ocean.”
Alexis sighed gustily. “As I’ve already explained to you, she needs to have the wedding here because she has elderly family members in very poor health who can’t travel easily but want to see her married. She’s dreamed of a Montego Bay wedding because that’s where her fiancé proposed two years ago. That isn’t possible for them this year, so she wants to move up her wedding date to July and re-create the feel here.”
On this Monday morning in early March, Alexis was consulting with Logan and his two sisters, Kinley and Bonnie, co-owners of Bride Mountain Inn, to determine whether her client’s very specific and somewhat unconventional requests were within reason. According to Logan, they were not.
With a sardonic expression on his sternly attractive face, he made a slow turn, motioning with one hand to draw her attention to the tidy garden in which they stood, the Queen Anne–style bed-and-breakfast behind them, the white gazebo at the end of a pebbled path. A tall, three-tiered fountain reigned in the center of the still-winter-dormant garden, providing the rhythmic splash of falling water for a soothing sound track. Against the horizon, the majestic Blue Ridge Mountains rose proudly against the pale blue sky. He had a point about the setting looking very little like a Jamaican beach.
Kinley, predictably enough, jumped into the discussion to state differently. “Of course we can make your client happy! It won’t be the first tropical-themed wedding we’ve held here. We’ll just have to figure out a way to set up to her personal specifications. I’m sure among all of us, we can come up with something.”
While Logan’s reaction to over-the-top bridal desires was often negative, inveterate saleswoman Kinley’s was just the opposite. To book an event at the inn, she seemed willing to promise just about anything—and yet, surprisingly, she always came through, proving she agreed only to what she knew they could accomplish.
In almost a year of working with the Carmichael siblings through her event-planning business, Alexis had never registered a complaint after an event at Bride Mountain Inn. She recommended the inn frequently as a venue for the weddings and other special occasions she coordinated. And nearly every time, she ended up wrangling with Logan at some point over the outdoor setups, more than once being told her requests were impossible even though they both knew that somehow he would make it work.
“Have your client consult with you on a very detailed list of her ideas, then we’ll all get together and discuss them,” Kinley instructed. “Make sure she knows all her decisions have to be made in time for us to make arrangements, and she can’t have last-minute changes with a theme this specific. We’ll do our best to make her happy.”
Alexis understood Kinley’s need to have everything spelled out in advance to avoid complications later. She operated her own business on exactly the same philosophy. “I’ll explain it to her, of course.”
“I’ll research some Jamaican recipes in case she wants us to provide special breakfasts or snacks for her guests,” Bonnie contributed, looking intrigued by the challenge. “I’m sure there are many more original ideas than jerk chicken.”
The siblings didn’t look particularly alike. Kinley had a slender, fit body, brown hair streaked with honey highlights and grayish-blue eyes. Bonnie was petite, with golden-blond curls and big blue eyes. Older brother Logan was hard-carved, medium tall and muscular, with dark hair and hazel eyes. Alexis wouldn’t call him handsome, exactly, but definitely the type of man any red-blooded woman would notice. She’d definitely noticed the first time she’d met him.
Logan blew out a resigned breath that hung just visible in the crisp morning air. The fleece-lined gray jacket he wore with a T-shirt, jeans and boots was his only concession to the chilly temperature. He would ditch the jacket when the days warmed, but the rest of his outfit remained the same year-round, at least from Alexis’s observation.
“Just give me and the crew time to work whatever miracle you think I can pull off. You find the stuff she wants, I’ll set it up. But you’re not hauling in sand,” he added with a warning scowl. He shot a dark look at Kinley before continuing, “Last time someone had the clever idea of setting up sandboxes for the kids at a tropical theme party, I had a hell of a time cleaning up afterward.”
“No sand,” Alexis promised.
He held her gaze for a moment, then nodded, turned and walked away with a mumble about needing to get back to work. His gait was marked by a very slight limp on the left side, which was more intriguing than detracting. As he disappeared around the side of the inn, Alexis made herself stop looking after him and spoke to his sisters. “I’ll try to keep the bride realistic with her expectations.”
“I know you will,” Kinley said with a smile. “Don’t mind Logan, he’s just grouchy today. He and his crew are working long hours to get the grounds ready for spring plantings.”
Alexis couldn’t help laughing. “He’s grouchy today?”
Kinley smiled a bit sheepishly, while Bonnie grinned in acknowledgment that their brother wasn’t the jolliest soul even on the best of days. Logan wasn’t a jerk, Alexis mused. He was just bluntly candid and impatient with most social niceties. And yet during the past year she had seen him interacting kindly with children and senior citizens, politely if somewhat distantly with stressed-out brides and nervous grooms, and relaxed and easy with his small, hardworking, fiercely loyal grounds crew. She wouldn’t say he was all bark and no bite, exactly—he wasn’t quite that innocuous—but she’d worked with worse.
As different as the Carmichael siblings were, they meshed amazingly well. They worked together every day at the inn they’d inherited from a great-uncle and had restored and reopened for business. Bonnie and Logan even lived full-time on the grounds; Bonnie in a two-bedroom, half-basement apartment; Logan in a cozy caretaker’s cottage downhill from the wedding gazebo. Alexis figured she would have long since strangled her younger brother, Sean, if they tried to go into business together.
Kinley and Bonnie had both married during the past winter, since Alexis had first started working with them. Yet bringing new members into the fold had not seemed to affect the family dynamics, at least when it came to the interactions she had witnessed. She enjoyed watching the sisters and brother work together, putting their individual strengths into results that were always impressive.
She was quite sure it would be interesting, as usual, to work with them on this newest project. She even looked forward to more spirited skirmishes with Logan, which always added a nice bit of spice to her workdays.
* * *
Darkness had fallen that evening when Alexis brewed a cup of hot tea in her cozy kitchen, only a few miles from Bride Mountain Inn. The days were getting a little longer as spring drew nearer. Already her work hours were increasingly busy with preparations for May and June, the craziest time of year in the wedding business. She wasn’t complaining about the workload. Having acquired Blue Ridge Celebrations just over a year ago, she was pleased to have seen a marked increase in bookings during the past months. She’d invested wisely in advertising, and had worked hard to make sure word-of-mouth endorsements from her clients were nothing but positive.
For some reason, she found herself thinking back over the past as she carried her tea into the living room with her affectionate gray cat, Fiona, padding along beside her. Though she’d trained for a career in music and theater, she had worked in her mom’s Roanoke, Virginia, florist shop during her school years and later in shops in Maryland and New York, so she’d been quite familiar with weddings and other fancy events. She had always displayed a talent for event planning, enjoying that part of her jobs with florists. She’d spent quite a bit of time developing that skill during what had been supposed to be only supplemental work.
A few months after her twenty-seventh birthday she’d acknowledged that she lacked the all-consuming passion required to become a major star on stage. She’d loved performing, and she’d worked very hard at perfecting her skills, but the lack of control over her own future had become more and more difficult to accept. After being passed over for an important role she’d come so close to obtaining—and coming to the abrupt realization that she wasn’t devastated by the rejection—she had found the courage to change her life course and go into business for herself.
It hadn’t been easy to turn her back on the goal she’d had for so long. She’d walked away from her friends, her tiny but adorable city apartment and a tumultuous relationship that had left her ego bruised and her heart barricaded. It had been a terrifying, but ultimately liberating, move.
Drawn back to her home state, she had purchased this established enterprise almost an hour’s drive from her mother’s still-thriving florist shop. Her natural talent for organization and creative thinking had come in handy in her new career, and she’d had considerable help from the previous owner and from a couple of employees who’d stayed with the company after the transfer.
There had been a few glitches initially, a few minor missteps, but all in all Alexis was satisfied she’d made the right decision, despite her enthusiastic stage mother’s disappointment and concern. Now twenty-nine, she was independent and self-sufficient; she had established functional and strictly enforced boundaries with her family; she had a nice rented house she was considering buying, and several good friends. She even enjoyed a nondemanding, drama-free but physically exciting connection with a fascinating man who was no more interested than she was in the challenges of long-term romantic commitments. What more could a modern-day woman want?
As if to accompany that thought, a brisk tap on the front door got her attention just as she set her steaming cup of tea on the low table in front of the couch. Along with the knock came a scrabbling sound on the front porch that she recognized easily enough.
“Sounds as though we both have company,” she said to her cat, who stared at the door with eagerly perked ears. “They’re a little early. Think they were impatient to see us?”
She smoothed her hands over the pink knit top and faded jeans she’d changed into after arriving home from work only an hour earlier. Her dark hair hung loose around her shoulders, but she merely shook it back rather than fussing with it. She was barefoot, but didn’t bother donning shoes as she moved across the room. It was nice to know she could be entirely herself with this particular visitor, whom she had been expecting tonight. Already her pulse had increased in pleasurable anticipation as she reached to open the door.
Logan Carmichael stood on her doorstep, his characteristically stern face illuminated by the yellow bulb in her porch light fixture. Beside him, a massive black-and-brown dog made a husky, deep-chested sound that some might have interpreted as a growl.
Logan jerked his chin toward the rottweiler-mix dog. “He begged to come with me tonight. He sulked that I left him home the last couple of times. Hope it’s okay.”
Smiling, Alexis moved back out of the doorway. She knew quite well the dog’s grumbly rumble was merely his unique way of greeting people he liked, his own version of a cat’s purr. “Ninja is always welcome here,” she said, motioning for them to come inside. “Fiona, you have a visitor.”
Ninja headed straight for the gray cat, who leaped onto the couch to better greet the big dog. Alexis was no longer even bemused when her pet rubbed affectionately against Ninja’s head, triggering a new spate of rumbling from the dog’s broad chest and a frantic wagging of his tail. Someone had forgotten to tell the silly creatures that they were supposed to be sworn enemies. They had become great pals instead over the past five months. Odd, yes, but Alexis figured it was no more surprising than her own very private friendship with Logan.
Logan closed the door, shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it over a chair. He reached out then to wrap his hand around the back of her head and tug her closer, his hazel eyes glinting with a rare, slow smile. “Is Ninja the only one welcome here?”
She rested her right hand on his solid chest, feeling his heart beating a bit rapidly beneath her palm and relishing the knowledge that she elicited that response from him. Slipping off her glasses with her left hand, she smiled up at him through her lashes, openly flirting, comfortable with touching him and yet highly stimulated by the contact. “I suppose it’s okay if you accompany him occasionally.”
He chuckled, his warm breath brushing her lips as he lowered his head. “I appreciate that gracious invitation,” he said, just before taking her mouth in a hungry kiss that effectively changed their banter into passion.
She didn’t bother to ask him to take a seat, or to politely offer refreshments. Instead, when the long, thorough kiss finally broke off, she moved a step back and took his hand. Turning, she led him to her bedroom, a path he knew well already, having visited there an average of three times a month since late October.
She didn’t turn on the overhead light. The stained-glass lamp beside her antique four-poster bed was on, the dimmed light filtered through red, purple and gold tinted glass. The white duvet was already turned back to reveal white sheets and soft, fluffy pillows. She had considered lighting one or more of the thick white candles scattered around the room, but she’d decided not to. She and Logan had a mutually satisfying relationship uncluttered by the traditional and potentially painful trappings of “romance.” They were friends. Good friends. Friends with benefits, in somewhat dated slang. But neither had expectations for a permanent commitment.
Which didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy every minute with him while it lasted, she thought, melting into his work-toned arms.
Their lovemaking began slowly, both taking their time as they shed clothing and caressed the skin revealed. Alexis never tired of tracing his impressive abs and biceps with her fingertips and lips. Despite the old scars on his left leg that he had attributed without elaboration to an old college injury, Logan was in the best physical condition of anyone she knew. Solid, strong, tanned and fit, a combination of hard work and healthy living. And, oh, did he know how to put that amazing body to good use.
They communicated with appreciative murmurs and throaty sighs, with soft laughter and quiet moans. As had happened each time before, the kisses and embraces rapidly escalated into a desperate need that made it impossible for them to take their time and savor. The tidy bedclothes were tangled, shoved aside, pillows tossed to the floor.
Logan donned protection swiftly, then returned to her. Clearing her mind of any thoughts but that moment, she welcomed him eagerly.
* * *
It took quite a while for Logan to decide that his limbs would support him if he tried to rise. Some ten minutes after he and Alexis had reached explosive orgasms, he lay on his back in her tumbled bed, his breathing still a little ragged, his heart rate just returning to a somewhat steady rhythm. How could it keep getting better with her, when each time he was convinced he’d never felt that good before?
Alexis lay against his side, so still and quiet he wasn’t even certain she was awake. He slanted a glance down at her, but her hair fell over her face, hiding her eyes. He would tuck it back for her, but he wasn’t sure he could move his arm yet.
She sighed then and raised her head. The diffused glow from the stained-glass lamp glinted in her dark brown hair when she shoved it back with a slightly unsteady hand. Her smoke-gray eyes reflected the multicolored light. Her cheeks were a little flushed, and her full lips were still darkened from his kisses. She looked as though she had just had a round of hot, energetic, very satisfying lovemaking. Sex, he corrected himself quickly. Great sex.
He liked seeing her like this, all tousled and sleepy-eyed, so different from the tidy, tailored appearance she presented when on the job. Of course, he liked looking at her then, too, knowing what lay beneath her tastefully modest professional wardrobe, picturing her with her usually pinned-up dark hair tangled around her bare shoulders and remembering the taste of her soft mouth beneath his.
“Wow,” she said.
He chuckled. “Seconded.”
That was something else he liked about her. She wasn’t shy or coy about her enjoyment of sex, though he was aware that she was very selective about satisfying her needs. The first night they were together, she’d admitted that she hadn’t been with anyone else recently. He’d replied just as candidly that he’d been in the midst of a dry spell himself, though he hadn’t elaborated. It wasn’t lack of opportunity that had made him live a rather monklike existence for the past couple of years. He’d simply been very careful not to get involved in any potentially messy entanglements, and he wasn’t the type to particularly enjoy a series of one-night stands with strangers.
Alexis had been the first woman in quite a while who’d drawn him out of his self-imposed solitude. In addition to being strongly attracted to her physically, he genuinely liked her. He admired her intelligence, her competence, her quick wit, her directness. She’d told him flat-out that weddings were her business, not her aspiration, and on that they could fervently agree. He had his reasons for being commitment-shy—good reasons, in his opinion. Obviously, Alexis had her own. They didn’t discuss their past relationships, but they had a lot in common when it came to what they wanted for now.
No one else knew they were seeing each other. They had agreed there was no need to complicate their easy friendship with outside expectations from friends and family. It was no one else’s business, in Logan’s opinion. He wasn’t seeing anyone else, and neither was Alexis, but they were both free to do so. He simply wasn’t interested in dating others at the moment. And he rather hoped she felt the same way. At least for now.
Rising to her elbow, she propped her head on her hand and gazed down at him. “Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way—”
He laughed softly, amused by her wording.
“—can I get you anything? I made tea for myself, but I suspect it’s cold now. I could brew fresh for both of us.”
“Sounds good, but I can’t stay much longer. Have to get an early start tomorrow working on a raised herb bed Bonnie wants me to put in this year. She had a little garden last year, but she’s decided it’s too small. Curtis and I are going to start on the bigger one in the morning.”
Though he and Alexis didn’t talk much about their pasts, they chatted quite a bit about work. She shared funny, just-between-them anecdotes about some of her events, probably because she knew he’d keep her confidences. He told her about the plans his sisters concocted for the inn and its grounds, most of which they expected him to handle, of course. During the past winter, he’d overseen construction of two easily accessible restroom/dressing room facilities beneath the inn’s back deck for use by wedding parties and their guests. Kinley and Bonnie had a sizable list of other improvements they wanted to make as time and finances allowed.
It would take several years to complete everything on their list—assuming, of course, they didn’t add to it, which they surely would—but he wasn’t complaining. All part of the job he’d taken on when he’d agreed to go into business with them. And that didn’t even include the part-time software consultation he performed on the side. Kinley maintained her real estate sales license and showed homes to prospective buyers during quite a few of her evenings away from the inn. Neither of them would completely give up their side jobs until they were certain the inn was entirely solvent.
Alexis didn’t bother dressing after climbing out of the bed, but wrapped herself in a soft red robe that set off her dark hair and gray eyes quite nicely. While she went to the kitchen to put on the kettle for tea, he washed and dressed again in the jeans and T-shirt he’d worn for this casual visit. He took a moment to straighten the bed before joining her. Even so soon after being thoroughly sated, he felt his blood heat in response to the images that flooded his mind when he smoothed the sheets.
She had the tea ready when he joined her. The earthy scent of chamomile wafted through her kitchen, all stainless steel and white with a few splashes of red as accents. Alexis had decorated primarily with white fabrics, light woods and clear glass, very clean, streamlined and non-fussy. Typical of her, he mused, taking a white-cushioned seat at the glass-topped table.
Ninja wandered into the room and sat at Logan’s feet, looking at Alexis expectantly. With a laugh, she pulled out a doggy treat from her pantry and tossed it to him. Not to be ignored, Fiona wound around Alexis’s ankles, meowing until Alexis gave in and slipped her a tuna-flavored kitty snack. It made Logan frown to realize that she had gotten into the habit of having both cat and dog treats on hand, but he brushed off that thought, telling himself it didn’t mean anything. He didn’t want to ruin the evening by overthinking things.
Setting the tea in front of him, she smiled. “What about you, Logan? Should I toss you a treat? I think I have some cookies.”
He shook his head. “I’m good with the tea, thanks.”
She took the chair closest to him and lifted her cup to her lips, smiling at him over the rim. Her robe parted a bit with the movement, giving him a fleeting glimpse of creamy breast. He gulped tea fast enough to scald his mouth, then chided himself for acting like a randy teenager around her, even though they had just climbed out of her bed. How did she keep doing that to him, despite his best efforts to remain in complete control around her?
To distract himself, he stuck with the one topic always guaranteed to keep their conversations flowing comfortably. Their work.
“You haven’t mentioned how your big wedding went this past weekend,” he said, trying to hide the fact that his tongue felt as though he’d burned off a layer.
She groaned heartily at the mention of one of the biggest events she’d coordinated since taking over her business. “It was exhausting. If all my brides were as difficult as that one, I’d get out of the business tomorrow.”
He knew the wedding had been held at one of the biggest churches in Southwest Virginia and had been one of the social events of the late-winter season for that particular crowd. There had been a carriage and white horses, doves and chamber musicians, with an obscenely expensive dinner and reception afterward at a nearby country club. Bride Mountain Inn had never even been in the running as a venue for that fancy event, but it sounded to him as though he should be grateful for that. “Did you manage to meet all her demands?”
“She even promised to recommend me to her friends,” Alexis replied with a weary but satisfied smile. “And by the way? I give the marriage a year. Maybe two, though that’s stretching it.”
Logan winced. “Problems getting along?”
“The groom hit on me half an hour before the wedding.”
Logan’s teacup hit the table with a thump. “He what?”
Ninja sat beside Alexis’s chair and rested his head on her knee. She rubbed his ears affectionately. Fiona jumped into Logan’s lap, as if to prove that she, too, could claim human attention if she desired. Still scowling, Logan absently stroked the cat’s back, eliciting a butt-up response that begged for more. “How did he hit on you? Are you sure that’s what it was?”
“He caught me in a corner, stood entirely too close and said maybe he and I could get together sometime—to plan an event, he added with a wink. What does that sound like to you?”
“Like he was hitting on you,” Logan muttered.
“Thank you.”
“You, uh, didn’t mention it to the bride, I assume?”
“Of course not. Not only would he have accused me of totally misinterpreting it, making me look like an idiot, but it really wasn’t any of my business. Besides, the bride was busy flirting with the cellist in the chamber quartet. Like I said, I give them a year.”
Logan shook his head in distaste. “We’ve had a few of those at the inn—you know, weddings that seem doomed to failure almost from the start. Kind of leaves you with a bad taste in your mouth, doesn’t it?”
She nodded. “I much prefer completing a job with at least a modicum of hope that the couple will somehow make it work despite the odds against them.”
“High odds,” he agreed.
“Very high odds.”
Figuring they’d made their point, he let it go at that.
“Did I ever mention my parents were divorced?” she asked nonchalantly, looking down at Ninja. “Twice for my dad. He was married briefly after he and Mom split. He was engaged again when he died of a blood infection two years ago. Mom’s third marriage has lasted almost a decade so far, though she and my stepfather sort of go their own ways.”
He wasn’t quite sure what to say. He’d known her father was dead and her mother remarried, but not the rest. He and Alexis didn’t talk about their family lives, though, because she worked often with his sisters, she was somewhat more aware of his. She knew, for example, that his parents had split up when he was just a kid, that he and his sisters had been raised by their single mom in Tennessee, that his mother had died almost five years ago and that his dad was a footloose world traveler who had rarely seen his son and daughters since the divorce. Alexis had even met his father in passing when she’d visited the inn one winter morning for a meeting with Kinley about an upcoming event.
Making the long trip from his latest temporary home in New Zealand, Robert Carmichael had come to Virginia in December to see his daughters married. Arranging their plans around their father’s rare visit, Kinley and Bonnie had shared an intimate double wedding in front of the fireplace in the inn parlor with only close family members in attendance.
Logan had told Alexis a little about the wedding when he’d slipped off to visit her the next night, but he’d been careful to avoid any discussion about his emotions at seeing his father for the first time in two years, or any analysis of his feelings about growing up with an absentee dad. Nor had she asked any such personal questions. That wasn’t the sort of relationship he had with her, by mutual unspoken agreement.
“My brother’s been married twice, too,” she said, breaking into his wandering thoughts. “Neither one lasted. He’s only twenty-seven.”
He was getting a clearer understanding of Alexis’s distrust of marriage vows. With her family history, she had good reason to be cynical about those “till death do us part” promises. Had she been met with disappointments of her own that had only reinforced her early, disillusioning experiences? “Started young, didn’t he?”
She shrugged. “He’s the impulsive type.”
“Kinley’s first marriage didn’t take, but I think she and Dan have the potential to make it work,” he commented, scratching her cat’s ears when she head-butted his hand in a less-than-subtle hint. “And Bonnie and Paul have as good a chance as anyone, I think. My sisters are nothing if not determined.”
Though his parents had divorced, he’d seen examples of successful lifelong unions—his maternal grandparents, and his great-uncle Leo and great-aunt Helen, who’d been committed to each other until her untimely death. Leo had been faithful to those vows even for the eighteen years he outlived his beloved wife. So Logan knew it was possible for others—he just didn’t know if it was for him. His own record of betrayals and disappointments had left him with a romantic cynicism he wasn’t sure he could ever overcome, or even wanted to, at this point.
“Your brothers-in-law seem very nice. You like them, don’t you?”
“Yeah, they’re great guys. We’re becoming friends as well as family.”
Propping her chin on her hand, she studied him with a faint smile, her tone lightening the mood. “Any concerns about their butting into your business at the inn?”
Even to him, his answering smile felt a little arrogant, which he hadn’t exactly intended. But still, he said, “That’s not going to happen. For one thing, we made sure both guys signed prenups, making it clear they have no claims on the inn in case the marriages break up.”
He’d said “we,” but the truth was that he alone had made sure of that precaution. His experience with a less-than-ethical business partner had left him wary of putting his trust in anyone other than his sisters when it came to business, even the likable, upstanding citizens they had married.
“Wise move. But maybe your sisters will make their marriages last. Some people do. And the fact that eternal optimists keep trying means more business for us, huh?” Alexis added with a wink.
He smiled, pleased to be back on comfortable footing, conversationwise. “You’ve got that right.”
It was the most they’d talked about their families in the almost five months since they’d crossed paths at a local coffee shop late one restless autumn evening. They hadn’t known each other very well at that point, having met only a few times through their work, but there’d been a strong attraction. They’d struck up a casual, surprisingly enjoyable conversation that had gone on for more than an hour, and he’d ended up following her home after her refreshingly straightforward invitation. Twenty minutes after they’d walked through her front door they’d been in her bed. And it had been the best experience of his life. Until the next time they’d gotten together, anyway. And then the time after that...
He set the cat on the floor, stood and carried his empty teacup to the sink. “I’d better head home. I’ve got a report to write tonight for a software client.”
With one last pat for Ninja, Alexis rose, too. “I’m bringing two clients by the inn later this week to look over the place as a potential venue for events—a wedding next year and a vows renewal ceremony being held in July. The vows couple are celebrating their fortieth wedding anniversary—another pair who’ve beaten the odds—and they are lucky the inn is available for a booking that soon if they approve of the setting, which I’m sure they will.”
“They’re not going to want sand or palm trees, are they?” he asked with a frown.
Sighing, she shook her head. “I haven’t talked specific details with either client yet, but I got the impression the older couple, in particular, wants something simple and sweet for the recommitment ceremony.”
“Good. Wish you’d talk more of your clients into that theme. Simple and sweet, I mean.”
She grinned and reached up to pat his cheek. “And miss seeing your expressions when I make outrageous demands of you? You’d be taking away half the fun of my job.”
He grumbled, but couldn’t resist brushing a quick kiss over her smile. “See you around.”
“Sure. See ya, Logan.”
Very casual. Very civil. Very open-ended. Exactly the way he liked it, he thought as he and Ninja headed out to his truck. He held open the driver’s-side door and the dog leaped in gracefully, settling into position in the passenger’s seat, ready to enjoy the ride home.
It didn’t take much to make his dog happy. A ride in the truck. A crunchy treat. A friendly rub from a pretty lady. All things Logan enjoyed himself. Ninja didn’t dwell on the past or worry about the future. He just...lived.
After reaching out to pat his buddy’s broad head, Logan fastened his seat belt and started the truck. He could do a lot worse than to emulate his dog.
Chapter Two
Alexis arrived at Bride Mountain Inn on Thursday afternoon ten minutes earlier than she’d agreed to meet her clients. She parked in the lot in front of the building, noting that few other cars were there. It was off-season in the bed-and-breakfast business in the Blue Ridge Highlands—a little past the peak snow sports time and just a few weeks early for the popular spring and summer outdoor activities. From conversations they’d had during their collaborations, she knew Kinley had been working on ideas for boosting business for next year’s off-season. Still, the inn stayed quite busy during peak season and seemed to be performing to the Carmichael siblings’ satisfaction thus far.
The gray-sided, white-trimmed inn really was lovely, wearing its years well thanks to the loving care it had received. Multiple gables and windows and roof peaks combined with white gingerbread trim provided traditional Queen Anne charm, while the bright red double entry doors served as a warm, cheery welcome. The wraparound porch that merged onto the back deck was finished with a white post-and-spindle banister and lined with rockers from which to admire the spectacular views of the mountains against the horizon. One middle-aged couple, dressed warmly for the cool afternoon, sat in rockers on the side porch sipping something out of big mugs and engaged in a lively conversation, clearly relishing a day of relaxation.
During the past months, Alexis had learned some of the history of this place from Kinley and Bonnie, who took great pride in their establishment. Built in the 1930s by their great-grandfather, the inn had then been passed down to Leo Finley, great-uncle to Logan and his sisters, who’d operated it with his beloved wife, Helen, until her death. After Helen died, Leo closed the inn to guests and lived alone in the downstairs apartment for the remaining eighteen years of his life. Upon his death, he left the inn to the great-nephew and great-nieces who had visited him often from Tennessee and whom he had loved very much. It had taken them almost a year to have the inn ready for guests again, and they’d invested everything they’d had to do so. Just this past November, they had celebrated their two-year reopening anniversary with a reception for local travel agents, events planners, caterers and other business collaborators. Alexis had attended, and it had been very nice.
She and Logan had barely spoken to each other during that event. He had participated with almost visible reluctance peeking through his deeply ingrained Southern manners. She suspected his sisters had coerced him into being there. Alexis hadn’t stayed long, but she’d enjoyed the reception and had left confident that, though she and Logan had been lovers for almost a month by then, no one else in attendance had suspected they were anything more than cordial business associates. Four months later, no one was any the wiser. She saw no need to discuss their affair with anyone, either now or after its inevitable ending.
Only one person knew about her trysts with Logan—her best friend, Paloma Villarreal. Despite living in different states since Alexis had returned from New York to Virginia to start her new career, she and Paloma had remained in close contact, still sharing secrets during long, candid phone conversations. Paloma had been intrigued to hear that Alexis was seeing someone. Being somewhat of a commitment-phobe herself, she totally understood why her friend was so leery of getting too emotionally involved. She didn’t ask too many questions, leaving it up to Alexis to decide how much to share. They respected each other’s privacy, a trait Alexis valued highly after growing up with a mother who wasn’t big on boundaries.
Alexis’s mother, who had no clue about Logan, had spent the past year and a half throwing one single doctor or lawyer after another in her only daughter’s direction, pointing out in frustration that Alexis was rapidly approaching thirty without a respectable marriage prospect in sight. No matter how many times Alexis asked her mother to butt out of her social life, her mom still managed to work in a few nags each time they were together.
She loved her maddening mother, and truly believed all the pushing and stage-mothering had been well-intended. Paula Healey loved her children—maybe a little too much—and wanted only the best for them, even if it meant stepping in to handle their affairs herself if she thought it necessary. She was the very definition of a “helicopter parent.” Alexis tried to remind herself of those things whenever her mom drove her crazy. She supposed her exasperation was normal, considering. Their family had always been complicated, to say the least.
She locked her car door by habit after taking out the leather tote that held her computer tablet and other business items. The afternoon was cool but sunny, requiring no more than a light jacket over her thin sweater and slacks. The first green shoots of spring had appeared here and there in the gardens, and she spotted a few very early daffodils in the beds.
A bright yellow sports coupe drove into the parking lot and stopped in front of her. Paul Drennan, Bonnie’s new husband, opened the driver’s door, climbed out and leaned back against the car with his arms crossed over his chest, smiling down at her from his six-foot-four height. He looked more like a rangy cowboy than the high school math teacher she knew him to be. She would bet he was the subject of more than a few teen fantasies, she thought with a faint smile, remembering a harmless crush she’d once had on a high school history teacher. “Hello.”
“Hi, Alexis.” He glanced around the otherwise empty parking lot. “Are you looking for Kinley and Bonnie?”
“I’m expecting clients to arrive shortly, and then we have a meeting with Kinley.”
He nodded. “She’s probably inside. Bonnie’s at the hospital with her brother, but she should be back soon if you need to see her, too.”
Alexis felt her diaphragm give a little jerk. “Hospital?”
“Yes. Zach, a college student who works part-time for Logan, had to have an emergency appendectomy today. He was working here this morning when he doubled over. Logan rushed him to the hospital in Zach’s car, then stayed with him while contacting the kid’s family. Bonnie went to pick up Logan and check on Zach, who’s going to be fine, by the way. She called to let me know what was going on.”
She busied herself for a moment by unnecessarily adjusting her glasses on her nose, speaking with what she thought was credibly casual concern. “That must have been scary for all of them. I’m glad Zach is going to be okay.”
She didn’t want to think too hard about her instinctive reaction at hearing that Logan was at the hospital. Something about the way Paul had worded the comment made her believe initially that Logan was the patient, and her mind had immediately filled with scenarios of accidents he could have suffered while working around the grounds. She reminded herself that she and Logan had only a casual relationship, so she had, perhaps, overreacted a bit—but then she reassured herself that it was only natural for her to be concerned for a friend’s well-being. Everything was still comfortably under control. She didn’t have to worry that she was letting herself care too much for Logan.
“Here are my clients now,” she said as a dark sedan with a familiar driver pulled into the space next to her own.
Paul opened his car door again. “Kinley should be waiting inside. Have a good meeting.”
“Thank you.” She waved as he drove around the side of the building toward the downstairs apartment he now shared with Bonnie. Then she turned to greet Sharon Banfield and her newly engaged daughter, Liberty, who were here for a tour of the wedding facilities.
Kinley was her usual enthusiastic, briskly professional self, welcoming the Banfields and Alexis to the inn, giving a quick overview of the services offered to potential clients and their out-of-town guests, then taking them on a complete and informative tour of the inn and the grounds. She greeted the few guests they passed with a warmth that seemed quite genuine while showing Liberty and her mother all their inn’s amenities without a high-pressure sales pitch.
After a walk through the gardens, where Kinley described the flowers that would be in bloom in early June of the following year, the date Liberty wanted to reserve for her wedding, she led them into the newly constructed ladies’ dressing room and restroom beneath the wide back deck. Kinley’s visible pride in the new facilities made Alexis smile, especially since she knew just how much work Logan had put into pleasing his sisters with those recent additions.
And speaking of Logan...
She looked around with everyone else when he came from the side of the inn, wearing his work clothes of jeans, boots, T-shirt and gray jacket, his dark hair looking disheveled. She had become an expert at hiding the punch of reaction she always felt when she saw him in front of other people, and she was confident no one knew that beneath the tailored jacket she wore with her spring-green sweater and charcoal slacks, her heart was beating a happy tap dance.
He nodded, not a hint of special interest on his face when he included Alexis in his greeting to the group. “Ladies.”
Kinley introduced Logan to Liberty and her mother, then added with a wave toward Alexis, “And of course you already know Alexis.”
“Yeah, sure. How’s it going, Alexis?”
“Very well, thank you. I heard you had some excitement around here today.”
“One of my crew took ill, had to be rushed to the hospital. He’ll be okay, though.”
“I’m happy to hear it.”
“My brother is the one who supervises outdoor setup for the weddings,” Kinley explained to their visitors. “He and his crew decorate the gazebo and gardens as requested, place the rows of folding chairs for guests, basically anything having to do with the outdoor part of events that isn’t hired out to outside contractors.”
Liberty smiled eagerly. “My friend Mandy had her wedding here last spring—she had the Tuscan theme? Very Italian, and it looked amazing.”
Both Kinley and Logan nodded in recognition of the reference. “It was a pretty wedding,” Kinley said to Alexis. “Mandy wanted lots of grape clusters and wine bottles and brick-red and olive-green buntings. She even managed to find a few oak wine casks for decoration. Logan set them in place where she wanted them and then we arranged groupings of candles and wine bottles on them with artificial grapes draped over the sides.”
“Sounds lovely.”
“It was,” Sharon agreed drily. “Too bad the bride moved home to her mother two months later.”
Liberty waved a hand dismissively. “Adjustment issues,” she said lightly. “She and Blake are back together now. Mostly.”
Alexis had to make an effort not to look at Logan. Because she didn’t, she wondered if he was deliberately not looking at her, either. But still she sensed he shared her admittedly cynical reaction to the update.
“Anyway,” Liberty continued, “I had an idea for my wedding theme...”
Logan made a low sound that Alexis interpreted as a swallowed groan. Kinley shot him a quick, stern look before saying encouragingly to the bride-to-be, “What’s your idea, Liberty?”
“Well, my fiancé...” She giggled at the word, proving how new it still was to her, and flashed her ring in the late-afternoon sun. “My fiancé went to school in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, and now he’s this huge New Orleans Saints fan. You know, football?”
Kinley nodded. Alexis swallowed, as this was the first she’d heard of a possible theme for the wedding she’d been hired only a couple days earlier to organize. Already she suspected what theme Liberty was considering, and she was proved right when the young woman blurted, “Mardi Gras! We can have beads and masks and lots of streamers and colored lights and balloons and stuff. Maybe some green and yellow and purple curtains hanging on the gazebo. And you know what would be really cool? Some of those big papier-mâché heads scattered around the gardens. Ooh, and maybe Steve and I could arrive on a Mardi Gras float that really moves, like pulled by a tractor or horses or something.”
This time Alexis couldn’t resist looking at Logan. He gazed back at her with a scowl that made it clear he expected her to rein in her client before she started asking for wrought-iron balconies and a steamboat.
Before Alexis could speak, Liberty’s mother gave a laugh and patted her daughter’s shoulder. “Take it down a notch there, sweetie. You’re getting carried away.”
Sharon shook her head indulgently as she looked at the others. “Liberty tends to go overboard when she lets her enthusiasm get away with her. She’s just so bright and creative, it’s hard to contain it sometimes.”
“New Orleans and Mardi Gras are both very workable themes,” Kinley told them gently. “I’m sure Alexis can help you come up with some beautiful and feasible ideas.”
“Of course,” Alexis assured them all. “I’ve organized Mardi Gras parties before. This would be my first Mardi Gras wedding, but we can definitely work with the theme.”
“We’ll have to think about this a bit more,” Sharon said. “Just yesterday she was talking about a Japanese theme. We’ll consult with her fiancé and come up with a final choice and then we’ll call you for another appointment, Alexis.”
“Yes, of course.”
Sharon looked at her watch. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we really must be going. We’re having dinner with her fiancé’s parents this evening and we need to change. No need to walk us to our car. Thank you for the lovely tour, Kinley. It’s going to be the perfect spot for my daughter’s wedding, no matter what theme she chooses. Nice to meet you, Logan.”
Mother and daughter hurried away, climbing the terraced steps to the side lawn and disappearing around the building. Liberty was still babbling about oversize decorations as her voice faded into the distance.
Logan barely waited until the pair was out of earshot. Hands on his hips beneath his jacket, he glared at both Kinley and Alexis. “Mardi Gras floats? Are you freaking kidding me? Or maybe she’ll go back to her original Japanese idea and expect me to cut all the trees down to bonsai size and convert the gazebo into a pagoda. What the hell is wrong with just having a Blue Ridge Mountain theme, since that’s where they’re having their damn wedding?”
“Most of the weddings I organize are simple and elegant, highlighting the natural surroundings and simply using color combinations as theme,” Alexis retorted coolly. What was wrong with her, anyway? Even as she was a bit annoyed by his attitude, she still found him incredibly appealing standing there all windblown and grouchy.
“Hmph.” He turned his attention to Kinley. “And you. You just keep encouraging them, telling them we can pull off any cockamamy idea they come up with. I know you want to close the deals, but seriously, Kinley, you’ve got to cut back on some of these big-theme affairs before you bite off more than I can chew.”
Kinley drew herself up stiffly, making an almost visible effort to speak in a professional tone when probably she would have liked to snap back at her brother, and very likely would have had Alexis not been standing there. She spoke pointedly to Alexis. “My brother doesn’t mean we aren’t interested in your future business, even for your more imaginative clients. We’re happy to work with them as much as we can, aren’t we, Logan?”
He merely grunted. Alexis bit her lip against a smile, avoiding his gaze.
“I have work to do,” he said. “Alexis, nice to see you, as always.”
“You, too, Logan,” she replied politely. She made herself turn without watching him walk away, even though she loved watching him move in his sauntering, sexy way.
Kinley laughed ruefully and shook her head. “Sorry about that. My brother is in another one of his moods today.”
“Yes, I noticed.” And then, because that sounded perhaps as if she knew Logan a bit too well, she added quickly, “I have a brother, too. I recognize the signs.”
“Older or younger?”
“Younger.”
“Are you close?”
“No, not particularly,” Alexis replied candidly.
Kinley didn’t seem to know quite what to say to that, so she merely nodded. Alexis changed the subject to the couple who were considering the inn for their vows renewal ceremony. They would be arriving shortly to look around, and Alexis had no doubt Kinley would charm them with her usual skill.
She and Kinley talked mostly about business during their meetings, though they had strayed into somewhat more personal topics occasionally, usually when chatting about the history of Bride Mountain Inn. Through those casual conversations, Alexis knew a bit of Logan’s family circumstances, but she didn’t know how he felt about them. Facts, but no deep feelings, as suited a breezy affair. She and his sisters were on a very friendly basis, but she wouldn’t call them her friends, exactly. Not the sharing-confidences-over-drinks or shopping-for-shoes-together type of friendship she had with Paloma, anyway. She thought they could be, but she was the one who’d maintained a slight distance between them.
She suspected Logan was the reason for her reticence. It was difficult enough carrying on a secret affair with him while working fairly often with his sisters; it would be much harder if she and Kinley and Bonnie spent even more time together away from their professional interactions. Not to mention that the more connected she became to his sisters, the stronger the ties between her and Logan became—and the more awkward it would be when it inevitably ended.
She and Logan had agreed that whatever happened between them, their work and their personal lives would remain entirely separate. On the job, they would be civil—his idea of civil, anyway—focused on optimal end results for both of them, even after they mutually agreed that the off-the-job affair had run its course. Completely rational and sensible.
Mentally crossing her fingers that the whole thing wouldn’t crash down around them despite their efforts not to become too emotionally attached, she forced herself to put Logan out of her mind and concentrate on her meeting with his sister.
* * *
Pebbles shifted beneath her snugly laced boot when Alexis placed her foot carefully into a depression on the steep hill rising in front of her on the following Tuesday. She adjusted her weight easily to find more stable footing. Pausing a few feet above her, Logan looked back over his shoulder, where he was carrying a small day-pack. “Okay?”
Settling the padded straps of her own pack a bit more comfortably on her shoulders, she grinned up at him. “All good.”
He reached out a hand, and though she didn’t really need the assistance, she placed hers in it, letting him haul her up beside him. His fingers tightened briefly around hers before he released her. “Need a water break?”
“Soon. It’s a perfect day for a hike, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it’s nice.”
“Nice” was an understatement, in Alexis’s opinion. The morning sky was a cloudless blue, the air crisp and fresh. A steady breeze tossed her low ponytail and kept them cool despite the exertion of the somewhat strenuous hike. Still winter-nude but showing the first buds of spring, deciduous trees towered around them, interspersed with fragrant evergreens. Through the bare branches, she caught glimpses of the stunning Catawba Valley view they would admire more fully from the apex of the well-worn path.
Five days after their last encounter at the inn, she and Logan had driven separately to the hiking trail some forty minutes from Bride Mountain, meeting in the parking lot at the trailhead. They generally didn’t go out together—this was the first time—but when she’d mentioned to him recently that she’d been thinking of taking a day off for a hike, he’d impulsively suggested this trek. He needed a few hours away himself, he’d added casually. He could be back at work by late afternoon to catch up on anything that required his attention. Because she had no appointments until six that evening, there was no reason for them to rush through this rare outing.
There was some risk, of course, that they’d run into someone who knew one or both of them, but the chance was slight. Though a popular destination, the trail wasn’t crowded on this chilly weekday morning when most people were at work or school. In fact, they’d encountered only a handful of other hikers, none of whom they’d recognized.
When they’d first discussed taking the hike, Logan had pointed out that it wouldn’t exactly be a tragedy if they did encounter someone they knew, though the chances were slim. There was no particular reason for secrecy about their friendship, other than the comfortable freedom from outside expectations. She wasn’t quite as blasé about it as he’d sounded, uncomfortable with the thought of professional awkwardness if word got out they were seeing each other. Still, it was nice to be out together, to ignore everyone else and concentrate on each other and the lovely day.
They’d crossed several wooden bridges and passed a couple of primitive campsites in the almost four miles they’d hiked thus far. She stepped over a gnarled root that bisected the foot-flattened path, then glanced up at Logan again. Though the trail was rated as moderately strenuous, he handled it almost as easily as if they were walking on flat pavement. His slight limp proved no impediment to him, though it was somewhat more noticeable on the uneven ground. She wondered if it bothered him with this much exertion, but she knew better than to ask. His masculine ego would be dented at any suggestion he wasn’t in peak condition—which, of course, he was, she thought, admiring the view of him from behind.
They paused beside a rushing stream still somewhat swollen from recent spring rains. Logan leaned against a tree trunk and drew a water bottle from his pack. He wore his usual jeans and T-shirt, though he’d switched out his work boots for sturdy hiking boots. He’d shed the windbreaker he’d worn earlier as he warmed from the exercise, stuffing the thin jacket into his pack.
Alexis found a relatively flat and reasonably clean boulder to use as a seat while she dug into her own pack. She wore lightweight gray hiking pants with a yellow scoop-neck T-shirt and a yellow-and-white windbreaker. She’d pushed up the sleeves of her windbreaker, but didn’t remove it. The brisk breeze was a bit cool to her for short sleeves, though Logan seemed unaffected. She removed a square of microfiber cloth from her pack and cleaned her glasses, watching from beneath her lashes as Logan lifted his water bottle to his lips. Just seeing the way his strong throat worked with his swallows was enough to make her consider taking off her jacket, after all. Had the temperature just risen a few degrees, or was it simply her usual response to Logan’s easy, innate sexiness that made her feel suddenly warmer?
She pushed her glasses back onto her nose, bringing him into even clearer, sharper view, then made herself look away long enough to dig out her own water bottle. Several long swallows helped her reinforce her temporarily shaky composure, though it wavered again when she lowered the bottle to find Logan studying her with an expression she well recognized—and which would have led straight to her bedroom had they been at her house.
He cleared his throat before speaking. “It’s been a long time since I’ve made this hike. I used to come out here with Great-Uncle Leo when I was a kid. He was in his late sixties then, and could still run circles around me. I’ve heard it’s usually crowded with tourists these days, but I figured it would be less so this morning.”
She winked saucily at him. “I’m glad you were right. I rather like having you all to myself.”
She took another sip of her water, then capped the bottle and stowed it again. Standing, she brushed a hand absently across the seat of her pants, though she wasn’t particularly concerned about getting dirty on a hike. “Ready to forge on?”
“Almost.” He pushed away from the tree in one fluid move, caught her in his arms and planted his mouth firmly on hers.
By the time the kiss ended, her arms were around his neck, their bodies were pressed full-length together and Alexis was definitely too warm for her jacket. She was grateful now for the breeze that ruffled her hair, brushed her cheeks and slipped inside her collar to cool her. She tipped back her head to peer up at him through her slightly askew glasses. “And that was because...?”
He chuckled as he released her with some reluctance. “Let’s just call it an energy recharge.”
She heaved a gusty sigh and glanced around. “Too bad we can’t be entirely sure we’re alone on the trail this morning.”
He grinned and ran a hand down her back to give a light squeeze to her bottom. “Don’t tempt me.”
She so enjoyed flirting with him, seeing desire heat his hazel eyes to a gleaming gold. A ripple of arousal surged through her in response, and he must have seen it in her expression, because his fingers tightened for a moment before he made a show of stepping away from her. “Let’s move,” he said.
They’d made their way only a few yards farther before they came across a couple of overnight backpackers making their way back down the trail. She heard a low, wry chuckle from Logan before they exchanged polite greetings and a few casual remarks about the nice weather and the beautiful views.
The view at the top of the trail was well worth the effort of getting there. Beyond a stand of imposing stone monoliths, the path culminated at a rocky clearing that provided a breathtaking panoramic view for miles on this clear day. Jagged rock outcroppings jutted out over the sheer drop to the valley below, and a couple of daring college-aged boys posed recklessly on the edge for photos. Two young men who looked to be the same age hung back a bit, snapping pictures but staying well clear of the drop-off. A middle-aged couple hovered nearby, the man surveying the spreading vista through binoculars, the woman shaking her head in nervous disapproval of the younger hikers’ antics.
Alexis had muted the ringer on her cell phone so it wouldn’t disturb the peacefulness of the hike and had let the few calls she’d received go straight to voice mail to deal with later. Gretchen Holder, her administrative assistant, was handling calls at the office that morning and would text her if anything cropped up that Alexis had to handle personally. She couldn’t resist lifting the camera-equipped phone to snap a couple of photos of Logan as he stood silhouetted against the deep blue sky, his profile turned to her.
As beautiful as the view was, she found her gaze turning to Logan more than to the distant mountains or the sprawling valley. Only when he pointed out a few landmarks did she force herself to focus on the scenery—Catawba Valley to the west, Tinker Cliffs to the north, the Roanoke Valley to the east. She imagined that the view would be stunning in the fall, with the brightly colored leaves spread like a patchwork quilt below, or in a few weeks in the spring when the mountain laurels bloomed, or in midsummer when all the shades of green draped the trees. Even now, with nature’s colors still muted at the end of winter and just before the spring, the scene was stunning.
She raised the phone again, though she knew the camera lens could hardly begin to capture the beauty below. She heard a click and glanced around to realize that Logan had taken a photo of her in profile against the scenery. She smiled and he snapped again before lowering his phone.
“I wouldn’t have pegged you as a phone photographer,” she teased him.
He motioned vaguely to the camera-phones lifted around them. “Just trying to fit in.”
She laughed softly, well aware that Logan couldn’t care less if he “fit in.” He was simply teasing her.
“Would you like me to take your picture together?” the woman Alexis had noted earlier asked a bit shyly from behind them.
Alexis and Logan shared a quick glance, then he shrugged. “Sure, why not?”
He draped his arm loosely around her shoulders after Alexis gave the woman her phone, and responded to the photographer’s cheery command to “say cheese” with a silent smile. Photo taken, Alexis returned the favor and used the woman’s phone to take a picture of the couple posed with the valley spreading behind them.
“You don’t want to stand out on the edge of the point for a photo?” she teased when she returned the phone.
The woman rolled her eyes. “No, thank you! Those kids were scaring me half to death,” she added, nodding toward the path down which the college boys had just disappeared.
A few minutes later, the other couple moved on, and Alexis was alone with Logan, though she doubted their solitude would last long. Relishing the soothing sounds of rustling breeze and calling birds, she drew a deep breath of the clean, fresh air as she watched a hawk circle lazily in the distance. “Beautiful,” she murmured.
He reached out to tuck back a strand of hair that had escaped her ponytail, his fingertips lingering against her cheek. “Agreed.”
Her pulse jumped, but she thought she managed to keep her expression serene as she said, “I needed this.” She slipped her phone into her pocket. “A day out in nature, away from appointments and paperwork and unrealistic brides.”
Logan shook his head. “How could they have this for inspiration—” he waved a hand toward the horizon “―and still decide to turn our grounds into faux Japan or Jamaica or Italy?”
She laughed softly and shook her head. “Maybe the ones who’ve grown up with this view tend to take it for granted. Though I grew up in Roanoke, I moved away straight out of high school for college in Maryland and then to New York City. I’ve only been back in the state for a year and a half, so it’s all still fresh for me again. I’d almost forgotten how beautiful Virginia is.”
She’d mentioned to him before that she’d lived in Maryland and New York, though they hadn’t talked much about the years before they’d met.
“I grew up in the hills of Tennessee,” he reminded her. “Beautiful countryside. Still, I don’t take scenery like this for granted, no matter how often I see it.”
No, she thought, he wouldn’t. Logan was the type to appreciate what he had, without wasting time wishing it were something else. Wasn’t that pretty much the way he seemed to feel about their no-strings affair?
He drew out his water bottle again and took a drink, then opened a zippered storage bag of trail mix and tossed a handful into his mouth. She shook her head with a smile when he offered the bag to her, but she pulled out her water bottle and sipped, taking advantage of the respite before the four-mile trek back down to the car.
She couldn’t resist sitting on a ledge and dangling her feet over, though she chose a spot that looked a bit sturdier than the most outwardly jutting point. Logan sat cross-legged beside her, keeping his feet beneath him as he ate some more trail mix. “Sure you don’t want some of this? I didn’t take time for much breakfast this morning.”
She smiled and held out her hand in surrender to temptation. He tipped a small pile of nuts and seeds into her palm and she munched as she swung her feet lazily below her. “That’s a good mix. Do I taste a little cayenne pepper?”
He nodded. “Bonnie makes it for me. She knows I like things spicy.”
He winked at her and a little laugh escaped her. Good grief, had Logan’s sexy wink brought out her inner giggly schoolgirl?
“How hard are you going to have to work this afternoon to make up for taking the morning off?” she asked him after finishing her snack.
He chuckled. “I’ll catch up. I left a list for Curtis to handle this morning. His retired brother-in-law is helping us out until Zach’s cleared for work again after his appendectomy. How about you? Will you pay for taking a break?”
“I have a few calls to make this afternoon, and a six-o’clock meeting with clients, but other than that, it was a rare slow day for me. My calendar is packed full for the rest of the week, though.”
“Big event this weekend?”
“Small shindig Saturday evening. Before that, on Friday evening, I have to drive to Roanoke to endure another dinner party with my mother, my stepfather and her latest marriage prospect for me. I’m never sure whether he’ll be a doctor, lawyer or candlestick maker, but I would place money on someone being there these days.”
Logan frowned, slowly lowering his water bottle. “Marriage prospect?”
She reached up to straighten her ponytail, which had been loosened by exertion and the breeze. “My mother has been trying to marry me off for the past year, using every excuse from my advancing age to the fact that it isn’t good for business for a wedding planner to be single. Let’s just say, she’s a rather...challenging woman,” she added, choosing the word carefully.
“Your advancing age? Seriously? You’re...what? Thirty?”
“Excuse me. I’m twenty-nine.”
He nodded gravely. “Even younger, then.”
“Mom was married—the first time—when she was twenty-two. Married my dad, her second husband, when she was twenty-five. She was forty-six when she married Duncan Healey, my stepdad, ten years ago.”
“And your brother is twice divorced at twenty-seven,” he grumbled, proving he’d retained what little she’d told him about her complicated family. “This is the path she thinks you should follow?”
She shrugged. “I guess she figures since I’m not going to be the musical theater star I grew up thinking I would be—and which she very much wanted me to be—I might as well provide her with a rich and successful son-in-law to brag about.”
He raised an eyebrow. “The fact that you operate your own successful business isn’t brag-worthy enough?” he asked, without mentioning her reference to theater.
“My mom has owned and operated a successful floral shop in Roanoke for twenty-five years,” she replied drily. “To her, being a business owner is no big deal. But she seems to be pleased that I’ve done so well with it so far. She takes credit for teaching me all I know about the business. And I suppose that’s fair, though it wasn’t what she’d always planned for me.”
“I disagree. You’ve done an excellent job with your business, and I’m impressed with how much you’ve grown it since you bought it from Lula Coopersmith.”
No compliment he could have given her would have pleased her more. She beamed at him. “Thank you, Logan.”
Still frowning a bit, he nodded. “Just stating facts.”
And then, as if concerned that they were straying a bit too closely to sentimental territory, he added brusquely, “As long as you’re not trying to turn the inn into the Taj Mahal or Buckingham Palace, of course.”
“You’re starting on that again?” Trying not to grin, she shook her head. “Don’t make me complain to Kinley that you’re not fully cooperating with a client.”
With one of his rare laughs, Logan stood and offered her a hand. “You’re threatening to get me into trouble with my sister?”
Now she was the one to laugh as she allowed him to boost her to her feet, then slipped her arms around his waist. “I have much more effective weapons in my persuasion arsenal than threats,” she said in her sultriest voice, pressing her body against his and looking up at him through her lashes.
She was rewarded with another flash of molten gold from his narrowed eyes just before his mouth covered hers.
She loved kissing him here in the sunshine with the wind whipping their hair, birds singing around them, the beautiful panorama spread below them. Loved having him all to herself, not worrying about who might see them together, feeling no need to keep her attraction to him under wraps. No pressure, no expectations, no questions or judgments, just two healthy single adults who enjoyed each other’s company and shared an explosive chemistry.
Voices drifted up to them from the path, and they broke apart reluctantly. With a sigh of resignation, Alexis donned her day-pack just as a group of chattering middle-aged women came into view, some of them puffing a little from the climb. She and Logan exchanged cordial nods with them, then headed back down the path to retrace their steps to their vehicles.
The keys to his pickup truck in his hand, Logan stood close by until Alexis had unlocked and opened the driver’s-side door of her car. “I’ll give you a call later this week,” he said.
She nodded. “It’s going to be a crazy week from here out. I have no appointments at the inn this week, though I’ll be there next week for final preparations for the Kempshall wedding next weekend. I’ll be home around ten most evenings, if you want to call then.”
“Yeah, I’ll do that one night. So, I had a good time this morning.”
She smiled up at him. “So did I.”
“Have a great week. And, uh, good luck at your mom’s matchup party?”
His dry, questioning tone made her smile wryly. “Good luck would be if I’m wrong about that. Maybe it’ll just be family there this time.”
She knew her expression wasn’t overly optimistic. There’d been something in her mom’s tone that had warned her to expect another maternal ambush. She would much rather spend that time relaxing with Logan, who expected nothing more from her than a good time. What more could she desire? she asked herself again as she made the solitary drive back to her rented house.
Chapter Three
“Maybe we could make it just a little bigger at this end?” Bonnie asked, critically studying her newly laid-out herb garden Friday evening. “Just to give me a little extra room for the rosemary plants.”
It was too early in the season for planting, but Logan had the raised bed she’d requested ready for the first hint of warm weather. And already she was asking for changes? “I made it exactly to your specifications,” he said irritably.
“I know, and it looks great,” she assured him hastily. “But now that I see it finished, I just thought— Never mind, it’s great. I love it, thank you.”
And now he felt like a jerk for snarling at her. With a faint sigh, he reached out to squeeze her shoulder in apology. “Just let me know what adjustments you want. There’s plenty of time to take care of it before it’s warm enough to start planting. I’ll put up fencing after you plant to keep the rabbits and deer out.”
As was typical of his softhearted youngest sister, she moved closer to him and gazed up worriedly. “Are you not feeling well, Logan? You haven’t been quite yourself today.”
He forced a reassuring smile. “Just a little grumpy. Most folks would say I’m being totally myself.”
Her answering smile was fleeting, her strikingly blue eyes still focused on his face with uncomfortable intensity. “Does your head hurt? You’ve worked so hard this week, maybe you need some rest.”
“Bonnie, really. I’m fine. I’m sorry I snapped at you.” He was uncomfortably aware that he didn’t apologize easily, but Bonnie had a knack for making him feel guilty.
“Forget about the herb bed for now,” she said briskly. “Come inside. I made a pot roast for dinner. All I have to do is warm the bread and we’ll be ready to eat.”
“I was going to spread some mulch in the east-side rose bed before calling it quits for the day.”
“You can do that later. Come eat dinner. Rest awhile. I have cherry tarts for dessert,” she added enticingly.
He groaned. “Okay, fine. I’ll eat.”
Bonnie laughed softly. “I figured the cherry tarts would get you.”
“Oh, yeah.”
His deliberately light tone seemed to set her mind somewhat more at ease, though he thought he still detected concern in her smile. He couldn’t explain why he was so grouchy this evening. His mood had deteriorated steadily all day. Maybe his sister was right and he needed a break; he’d been working almost nonstop since returning from the Tuesday-morning hike with Alexis.
As expected, he hadn’t seen Alexis since, though he’d spoken with her briefly on the phone last night. She’d been tired from a long day of meetings and paperwork and phone calls. He’d been perturbed by a long day of things going wrong—not to mention that it had been almost two weeks since he’d visited her bedroom. Those kisses on the hiking trail had been great, but decidedly frustrating.
In past months, their work had kept them apart for considerably longer than a couple of weeks, with only an occasional phone call to keep them in touch. Maybe he was getting a little spoiled because they’d had more time to spend together during the slower off-season. As the spring passed and bookings for both of them increased, they’d be lucky to get together once a month. For that matter, he never knew when they parted if they’d get together again, considering they had no commitment, no expectations. And he was good with that.
Hell, for all he knew, she could be meeting the perfect Dr. Right at her mother’s house tonight, despite what she’d said about wishing her mom would stop trying to fix her up. Alexis had repeatedly implied that she wasn’t interested in tying herself down to anyone in particular for now, at least until she’d spent a couple years making sure her business was solvent, but who knew? Maybe Dr. Right could change her mind.
Somewhat savagely, he dried his freshly washed hands on a towel in Bonnie’s guest bath, then smoothed the scowl from his face and prepared to join his sister and brother-in-law for dinner.
“You should take a vacation, Logan,” Bonnie suggested over cherry tarts a while later. “Before we get too busy with spring weddings. The grounds look great, and none of our upcoming events are so complex that Curtis and his brother-in-law can’t handle them, especially since Butch Radnor is always available for temp jobs. When we shut down for those two weeks in January so Kinley and I could take off for our honeymoons, leaving you here to watch over the place by yourself, you promised you’d take some time off after we got back.”
Those couple weeks here by himself hadn’t been so bad, actually, though there’d been a snowstorm that had dumped quite a few inches on the grounds, requiring some quick action to prevent landscape damage. He and Ninja had been fine here on their own—and had been joined one night by Alexis. Taking advantage of having no family or guests at the inn to spot them together, she’d brought a bucket of chicken and a pan of homemade brownies and visited his bedroom for the first time, resulting in a few hours that still made him swallow hard when he mentally replayed them.
Mercifully unaware of the direction in which his thoughts had wandered, Bonnie continued, “If you don’t take off within the next few weeks, we’ll be well into the busy season and you won’t be able to get away for more than a few hours at a time for at least another six or seven months.”
Logan washed down a mouthful of tart glazed cherries with a sip of the coffee she’d served with it. “I don’t need a vacation.”
He saw her exchange a look with her husband before she said, “You haven’t had a vacation in at least three years, since we inherited the inn. Probably longer than that.”
“I took off to go hiking just this past Tuesday morning,” he reminded her, though he hadn’t mentioned who his companion on the hike had been.
“And you were back by midafternoon,” she retorted with a shake of her head. “That’s not enough time off to really decompress.”
“She’s not going to give up, you know,” Paul murmured over the rim of his coffee cup. “She’s afraid you’re headed for burnout.”
“I’m fine. I take time off.”
“You have gone out somewhat more during the past few months,” she acknowledged. “But an evening out with friends every week or so does not count as a vacation.”
She had no idea how much he enjoyed those evenings out with friends—especially since the friend in question was usually Alexis these days. It just seemed to have worked out that way. As a matter of fact, a couple more hours with her would go a long way toward the relaxation Bonnie was convinced he needed.
Though she was almost four years his junior, Bonnie had always been somewhat maternal in her manner toward him, especially since their mother died. The most domestic of the siblings, she loved cooking and decorating and taking care of others, which made her perfect for the general manager and chef role at Bride Mountain Inn. She’d been in the habit of fussing over him ever since a tumor in his left leg had struck him down in college, when she’d still been a senior in high school. He’d been pretty sick for a year through painful and debilitating treatments, but he had long since fully recovered. Bonnie knew that, intellectually, but there were still times when he suspected she looked at him and experienced painful memories, even though she knew he didn’t want to talk about that time. As far as he was concerned, it was all in the past. No need to relive it.
His ordeal had left him more reserved than he’d been before, more prone to be somewhat of a loner—and a great deal more skeptical of promises and expressions of loyalty from anyone outside his family. He had absolute faith that his sisters would be there for him through thick and thin, whatever happened—just as he would be for them. Anyone else...well, he’d long since decided that having no expectations was the best way to prevent being disappointed or disillusioned again.
Because he could trust his sister implicitly—and maybe because she’d softened him up with pot roast and cherry tarts—he kept his tone indulgent when he said, “I’ll let you know if I decide to take your advice. Now, I’d better head back to my place. Ninja’s going to want his evening walk. Thanks for dinner, Bon. It was delicious, as always.”
“Let me send a couple of tarts home with you for later.”
He grinned. “I won’t argue with that.”
* * *
“It was nice to meet you, Alexis,” Mark Fiorina said as he held her hand a bit too snugly in a good-night shake Friday evening. “I hope to see you again sometime?”
Turning the wish into a question made it clear he was fishing for her phone number, but she merely gave him a vague smile. “It was very nice to meet you, too, Mark,” she said.
Though he’d seemed a little dense when it came to social skills during the evening, he must have picked up on her politely worded message that she wasn’t interested in going out with him. Her mother’s latest “prospect” was pleasant enough, if a little dull, but she had no desire at all to see him again. With a nod, he took his leave of her mother’s home. Alexis intended to make her own escape almost immediately behind him.
“Honestly, Alexis, what was wrong with that one?” Paula Healey demanded from behind her daughter. Her hands were planted on her curvy hips, and her penciled brows creased beneath her salon-streaked ash-blond hair, making her bafflement clear. But then, that was the way her mother often looked at her. “He’s a good man, a successful investment banker, and you didn’t even give him your number, did you?”
“No, I did not. When are you going to stop these ridiculous attempts to fix me up with someone? I keep telling you, I’m not interested.”
Predictably, her mom’s lower lip quivered. “I just want you to be happy, Alexis. You need more in your life than work, you know.”
“I have more in my life than work. I am perfectly happy. I need you to accept that and back off, Mother.”
“I blame your father. Two nasty divorces set a terrible example for both you and your poor brother.”
Alexis didn’t even bother to point out that her mom had been involved in one of those nasty divorces, not to mention the years of acrimonious child custody fights that had followed. She knew her mother would argue that her current marriage was successful, though Alexis had always considered this one a rather calculated arrangement. Her mother, however, was the type of woman who needed to be married to feel secure, so whatever worked for her.
Alexis liked her stepdad just fine, though he was the reserved, brainy type who contributed little to a conversation unless it had to do with economics or American history. Like her mom, Duncan seemed content to be married for practical, socially advantageous purposes. They got along well, though they appeared to live almost separate lives from the same home, with different friends, different hobbies, different interests. Maybe they’d stay together, if for no other reason than because it would simply be too much trouble to split up. Maybe theirs was the best way to approach a marriage. No rosy-eyed illusions, no unrealistic expectations, no bitter disappointment when it didn’t turn out to be everything they’d dreamed of in romantic fantasies.
Yet just the thought of getting into a long-term relationship with Mark Fiorina—or any of the other men her mother had paraded in front of her—made Alexis so depressed she just wanted to curl up in a corner somewhere. She would so much rather have fun with Logan for a short time than tie herself down for years to someone who didn’t excite her at all. There was no way she was going to mention Logan to her mom, of course. Her mother would insist on knowing details and meeting him, interrogating them both, which would ruin everything. Her time with Logan was like a secret gift to herself, a private respite from all the annoyances in her life.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/gina-wilkins/healed-with-a-kiss/) на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.