Best Laid Wedding Plans Read online

  “I suppose so, but it would mean stayin’ over tonight and workin’ late. I have other orders, you know.”

  “I’m sorry, Kitty, but I have a bride who needs a wedding cake on Saturday. One that’s already paid for.”

  Of course, without a garden maybe this was all a moot point. But Cole had said to let him worry about that. And, oh, jeez, wasn’t that unfair? None of this was his problem.

  Once again, though, he was stepping up to the plate. Loyalty to Wes? Desire to help her folks? And yet didn’t he want her to fail so he could take over her home?

  She chewed at her bottom lip. He’d promised not to tear it down, and she had to believe he’d keep his word. So what would he do with it?

  Nothing. Because she refused to fail.

  Things had changed between them. Simply thinking about him made her pulse race. Their night in Savannah—had to be put on the backburner. For now.

  Nothing made sense anymore. A massive headache scrambled her brains, and she couldn’t think.

  “Where you gonna get another cake topper at this late date?”

  “I honestly don’t know, but you let me worry about that. If we need to, we’ll improvise.”

  “Your bride had her heart set on that one she sent special delivery.”

  Thank you, Kitty, Jenni Beth thought. “I understand, but you said it can’t be repaired.”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Bake and decorate a new cake, and I’ll take care of the topper.”

  After she hung up, she leaned back in her desk chair and fought back tears of frustration. Why had she ever thought she could do this?

  Well, she was in it neck-deep at this point. She’d promised Stella and Steve she’d provide the perfect wedding for them. And, by darn, somehow or another she meant to do exactly that.

  Five minutes on the computer and another five on the phone and she had an identical topper nailed down.

  She phoned her dad who was on the golf course. “I hate to bother you, but I’ve got a huge problem.”

  “Something more than the rose garden?”

  “Yes.”

  “What can I do to help, honey? Just a minute.” He put his hand over the phone, but she heard him say, “Go ahead. Play this hole without me.”

  Then he was back to her. “Okay. I’m yours. What do you need?”

  And there was the dad she’d always known. Confident. Plugged in. What a difference these past few weeks had made. Thank God!

  She explained the problem with the smashed cake and topper and that she’d managed to track down another.

  “I don’t suppose you could make a trip to Savannah tomorrow?”

  “As a matter of fact, I can. Think I’ll take your mother along. We can leave early and have lunch at her favorite restaurant, pig out on their fried green tomatoes, crab cakes, and pickled watermelon rinds. It’ll do her good. She hasn’t been eating enough.”

  “No, she hasn’t been. You sure you don’t mind?”

  “Absolutely not. It’s the least I can do.”

  “Thank you, Daddy. I’m leery of having it delivered. If it doesn’t get here, I’m sunk.”

  “Understood. This is the smart way to handle it.”

  She hung up. One problem down, and too many to count still to go.

  Jenni Beth tossed and turned, too restless to sleep. Cole had assured her they could fix the rose garden before the wedding. She had serious doubts about that. The garden had been a work in progress for over a hundred and fifty years. How did you restore it in a day?

  He’d left here in a huff, and she hadn’t heard from him since. Although she did have a visit from Jimmy Don who’d said Cole had sent him. The sheriff took photos, questioned her, and filled out a report.

  Flipping back the covers, Jenni Beth moved to the window.

  Headlights! Aimed at the rose garden.

  The vandal had come back? Well, this time it wouldn’t go so well for him. Without thinking, she slipped on the pair of silver sequined flip-flops by her bed and ran down the stairs, through the hallway, and out into the humid night air.

  As she rounded the house, the scent of roses, sweet and delicate, wafted to her. Her forehead wrinkled in confusion. She heard the thwump of a shovel striking dirt. What? He’d come back for the roots?

  “I’ve already called the cops,” she shouted, “and I’ve got a gun. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get the hell off my land!”

  The digging stopped.

  Jenni Beth didn’t know which was louder, the humming of the cicadas or the beating of her heart.

  Please, she prayed, just leave.

  Slowly, the shovel dropped to the ground, and the intruder raised his hands.

  She held her breath. What if he attacked her? She should have wakened her dad. Should have actually called Jimmy Don and grabbed some kind of weapon for defense. Had she turned into one of those romance novel heroines who was too stupid to live?

  Despite the night’s heat, she shivered.

  When he turned and stared straight at her, the moonlight caught in his hair and highlighted him.

  “Evenin’, sugar.”

  “Cole?”

  “What in the hell are you doin’ out here in your nightgown, Jenni Beth?”

  She stared at him, speechless.

  “If you do have a gun, sweetheart, put it down slowly before you hurt one of us,” Cole said.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Plantin’ you a rose garden. I had to drive seventy-five miles to round up enough plants, and I’ve got a blister on my hand and about a dozen thorns in my fingers. So I’m feelin’ kind of mean right about now. And here you are, rushin’ out in the middle of the night to protect your garden. Don’t you have a lick of sense?”

  “Of course I do. Do you have any idea what time it is? Why are you here in the dark?”

  “Because I just got back into town.” He squinted into the dark. “You don’t have a gun, do you?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “And you didn’t call the police.”

  Warned by the edge in his voice, she hesitated. “No.”

  He swore. “Somebody needs to take you over his knee and give you a good spankin’.”

  “Well, it won’t be you!”

  His eyes glittered in the moonlight—anger and something else.

  “I wouldn’t bet on that, sugar.”

  He moved toward her, and she took several steps in retreat. “Don’t you come near me, Cole Bryson, or so help me I’ll scream bloody murder. Daddy will have a gun when he comes running out, and he won’t hesitate to use it.”

  “I don’t think you’re gonna do that, sweetheart.”

  “Don’t sweetheart me.”

  When he continued toward her, she took another, then another step backward, her heart in her throat. It wasn’t only fear, though. It shamed her to admit how much his words had excited her.

  Before she understood what he was up to, he reached down and grabbed a hose. “I’m filthy. Let me rinse off the top layer.”

  She stood impassively while he hosed some of the dirt from his hands.

  “Done?” She tapped her flip-flop in the grass.

  “Not quite. Think you got a little dirt on you, too. Right about there.” He turned the hose on her, hitting her square in the chest.

  Shocked, she let out a smothered squeal. She plucked at her nightgown where it stuck like plastic wrap to her. And, she realized in horror, the white cotton had turned nearly as transparent.

  “You imbecile. That water’s freezing cold.”

  Laughing, unguarded, he dropped his hand to his side.

  In a flash, she lunged at him and turned the hose full blast on him. He reached for it, her foot slipped in the wet grass, and she went down, draggin
g him with her.

  He somehow managed to twist on the way down, hitting the ground first. She sprawled full-length on top of that gorgeous hard body.

  She stopped breathing as his arms moved around her, drew her closer. His warm lips covered hers, his tongue sliding between them to taste her.

  She groaned.

  How long they laid like that, his large hands moving over her back, her legs, her bottom, she couldn’t have said. Totally lost in him, the rest of the world disappeared.

  “Jenni Beth, I—” He rested his lips against her neck. “Oh God, as much as I want to stay right here with you like this, as much as I want to tear what’s left of that nightgown off you and have my way with you, we need to talk.”

  “Now?”

  “Yeah. Time to get this done.” He rubbed a thumb over the back of her hand. “Let’s go around front and sit on the swing.”

  His face had turned serious.

  “You’re scaring me, Cole.”

  “I don’t mean to, but there are things you need to know.”

  Even though the Southern night was warm, the slight breeze chilled her, and she shivered.

  He stopped by his truck and took out the stadium blanket he kept there. Wrapping it around Jenni Beth, he walked her to the swing.

  Settled, his arm thrown over the back and draped around her shoulder, he said, “You’re probably not gonna like everything I have to say, but promise you’ll hear me out.”

  “Can it really get worse?” Her stomach pitched, and she rested a hand on it.

  “I’m afraid so. First, though, did Jimmy Don visit you today?”

  “Yes. We took care of the paperwork. He said, more than likely, Jeremy Stuckey is our culprit.” She ran a hand over her damp hair. “I sure hate to be the cause of any more trouble for his mother.”

  “You didn’t cause it. Might actually turn out to be a cheap lesson for him if it turns him around. Right now, though, I’m not overly fond of Jeremy and you shouldn’t be, either.”

  “I’m not, but I like his mom.”

  “Understood. Okay, here goes.” He held her hand while he shared the conversation he’d overheard the day she’d gone in for her loan.

  “And you saw no reason to tell me about it.” Her voice held a chill.

  “I did tell you. Sort of. Remember the trip to the bottomland?”

  She stared at him.

  “Beck and I—”

  Her mouth dropped open. “You told Beck.”

  “Yes.” The lead balloon in his stomach expanded. He’d waited too long.

  He let go of her hand and swiped a thumb over the corner of his mouth. “I wanted his take on it, but don’t blame him. I made him promise not to say anything to you. It was my decision to keep you in the dark. So if you’re gonna be mad at somebody, be mad at me.”

  “Oh, I am.” The chill shifted to a deep freeze.

  “I figured that.” He held up a finger. “But you promised to hear me out.”

  “Fine.”

  “So, anyway, I’ve been doin’ some diggin’. I got a phone call today while I was out chasin’ rosebushes that answered most of my questions. One of the pieces of land that borders yours was sold to a company in New Jersey.”

  “The woman who called Stella had a Jersey accent.”

  “Right. Richard’s wife brokered the deal.”

  “That makes sense. She’s a realtor,” Jenni Beth said.

  “Also makes things very convenient. I talked to the couple who sold the land. Turns out they’d gone to Richard about a loan. He managed to convince them that sellin’ their bottomland, instead, was the right thing to do.”

  “He tried that with me, too.”

  “I know he did. Let me tell you, this couple has a real bad case of seller’s remorse. My guess is their meeting with Richard was kind of like grabbin’ a free lunch with those people who sell time-shares. The only way to ransom yourself is to hand them your checkbook and buy somethin’ you don’t want and will never use.”

  “How about the other?” Jenni Beth worried the cuticles on her left hand.

  “The owner of that piece got into some gamblin’ trouble. The same Jersey company took him on one of those sponsored trips to Atlantic City. One thing led to another, and he used his bottomland to settle the debt.”

  “Somebody isn’t playing fair.”

  “No. And unfortunately, by takin’ Coastal Plains’ money, you’re playin’ ball with the same people. And you’re up to bat.”

  “But if I fail, the bank owns the land, not Richard.”

  He toyed with a strand of her wet hair, wrapping it around his finger. “Good thinkin’. But, who’s gonna be the first to know you’ve defaulted?”

  “Thorndike.”

  “Exactly. And since his partner has plenty of money, they’ll snatch it right up. Do you have any idea what they can do with that land? The three plots together? A housing development, condos, you name it, all at top dollar.”

  “And I’ll be left with nothing. My family will lose their home. I should have listened to my gut and not gone to Richard. But Daddy and I both wanted to keep everything here in town. Wanted to do business with the same bank we’ve always dealt with.” She sighed. “How can Richard do this?”

  “Because he doesn’t care, sugar. He has no conscience. To him it’s all about the bottom line, how many Judas coins he can line his pockets with.”

  She struggled to take it all in, to make sense of it. To accept it. “What’s the connection between Richard and the Jersey company?”

  “I asked myself the same question. The owner of the company? Antonio D’Amato.”

  “Pia’s father? Her husband?”

  “Father. Pia’s here to keep an eye on things. Daddy buys her a business, something to keep her happy and occupied, and she lets him know if things start going south. Or if Richard suddenly develops a backbone. My guess is that Richard owes D’Amato. That he’s up to his eyebrows in something D’Amato is holdin’ over him.”

  “Gambling?”

  Cole shrugged. “I have no idea. I haven’t found that answer. Not yet, anyway.”

  “What do we do?”

  “I’d considered going by the bank, havin’ myself a little come-to-Jesus meetin’ with Richard.”

  “That’s not a good idea for so many reasons.”

  He nodded. “Not smart, I know. D’Amato’s a crafty guy, I’d guess, and I doubt very much this is his first shady deal.”

  She turned to face Cole, felt the heat that poured from him. “I wish you’d told me about this sooner.”

  “I had suspicions, sugar. Questions. That’s all until today. Hell, we still have no real evidence. Except that filthy ball cap.”

  “Jeremy Stuckey’s.”

  He nodded.“We’ll see what the sheriff can do with him.”

  “You make me so mad, Cole.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry.”

  She rounded on him. “You’re always sorry. Till the next time.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “You keep going behind my back. Sticking your fingers where they don’t belong, then waltzing out again.”

  “I didn’t want to add to your family’s worries if my suspicions turned out to be unfounded.”

  “And what about Kimmie Atherton? Hmmm? What about her? You went behind my back and asked her to the prom when you already had a date with me.”

  “Ancient history, Jenni Beth.” He sighed. “What’s the real reason you’re mad at me?”

  “You made me go with Angus to the prom.”

  “No.” He held up both hands. “I did not. You chose to do that.”

  “You let Kimmie kiss you at the barbecue place.”

  He sent her a sidelong glance. “I’m not even gonna dignify that with an argument.”
/>   “Wes enlisted.”

  “He did.”

  “Why?” She hated the plaintive sound in her voice. “You two were supposed to room together at college, then go into business together. Why didn’t you? Why did you open your business without him?”

  Cole leaned back against the swing. Moonlight shone on Jenni Beth’s face, highlighted the anger and sorrow.

  Finally, she’d voiced the real reason for her on-again, off-again antagonism. Obviously, she blamed him, on some level, for her brother’s death, and that hurt. Deeply.

  “Wes changed his mind, sugar.”

  “Why didn’t you change it back?”

  “I wish I had an answer for that. It keeps me awake at night.”

  A tear dripped off her chin, and Cole started to reach for her but pulled back, not sure she wanted his touch.

  “Everything fell apart the day he died. Nothing will ever be the same.” She swiped angrily at another renegade tear and turned her back to him. “Go away.”

  “No.”

  “You did before.”

  “Yes, I did,” he admitted.

  “So did I.” She spoke quietly. “I went back to Savannah after the funeral and left my parents to cope with things alone.”

  Oh God. How did he deal with this? What could he say to make it better? He hurt. For her. For her parents. For himself. And, most of all, for Wes.

  “Your mom and dad are adults, honey. They had each other.”

  “They needed me. They needed Wes to come home.”

  This time, he didn’t hesitate. He put his hand on her shoulder, turned her into him, and wrapped his arms around her. Her body shook with tears and more than a few of his own wet that beautiful blond hair of hers.

  Both of them hurt, the pain soul-deep.

  “You blame me for your brother’s death.” He spoke the words into her hair.

  “No.” She burrowed deeper, clutched his shirt in her fists, and wept.

  Each fresh tear dug a new furrow in his heart. He placed a hand under her chin and raised her face until she met his eyes.

  “Jenni Beth.”

  “All right. Yes, I do.” Her eyes misted again and a sob escaped. “But I don’t. Not really.” She bit her lip. “It’s just—Oh God, it still hurts so badly.”