“Oh, no, finish your tea. You said you don’t have to leave until five or so, right? You can give Dad some more cooking tips.” Cassie’s grin included both of them. “It would be a shame for him to have gotten all spiffed up for nothing.”
She planted a kiss on her father’s cheek, then whirled out of the room without giving either of them much time to do more than wave goodbye.
“My daughter,” Paul said wryly, “has all the subtlety of a steamroller. If you have to get back to the inn…”
After only a momentary hesitation, she picked up her drinking glass again. “I’m not in that much of a hurry.”
His approving smile was warm enough to make her need a sip of the chilled beverage to clear her head. She felt the icy liquid slide down her throat, but it did little to cool her. The heat Paul’s gaze ignited inside her could not be assuaged with any amount of iced tea.
“It was a nice surprise finding you here today,” he said. “A very nice surprise.”
Okay, flirting again. She still remembered how to do that. Or so she hoped. “I have to admit I hoped you’d show up this afternoon.”
He reached into the cookie jar and drew out a cookie. “Cranberry-oatmeal,” he said, showing it to her. “Cassie made them. Would you like one?”
“No, thank you.” They did look good, though, she mused, making a mental note to prepare some for her guests soon. Always working, she chided herself then, thinking of how often she’d accused her sister of the same thing. She really should focus on this rare break from the inn, especially with such charming company. “So, you played soccer today?”
“Yeah. Couple of guys I kayaked with yesterday asked if I wanted to fill in for someone who couldn’t play today. It’d been a while since I played, but I remembered the basics. Scored a goal.”
She couldn’t help but smile in response to his obvious pride. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks. My team still lost, but that was one more point in our favor.”
“How’s the leg?”
“The, uh—?”
“I saw the blood.”
“Oh.” He grimaced ruefully. “It’s fine. Just a scratch. Got tackled by a big, burly guy twice my size.”
Something about the way he said that made her suspect it was completely fabricated—and that he wasn’t really t
rying to convince her otherwise. She smiled. “Is that right?”
“Huge,” he reiterated with a grin around his cookie.
“It’s a wonder you survived,” she said gravely.
“What can I say? I’m a tough guy.”
The sound that escaped her sounded disconcertingly like a giggle. She drained her tea glass.
“Can I get you a refill?” Paul offered.
“No, thank you. I really do have to head back to the inn soon for dinner service. I don’t want to keep the guests waiting.”
She stood to carry her glass to the sink. When she turned, she found that Paul had followed her. He set his glass beside hers, then smiled down at her. “It was a nice surprise to find you here. I thought I’d have to wait until tomorrow to see you.”
“Cassie called yesterday to arrange this. I thought she had mentioned it to you.”
“No. But then I haven’t seen her much the past few days. Her schedule is pretty hectic at the moment, and she just keeps adding things to do.”
“She said staying busy keeps her from obsessing about the wedding.”
Paul shrugged. “She’s happiest when she’s going a thousand miles an hour. Always has been. Holly and I used to say if we could bottle Cassie’s energy and sell it, we could both retire young.”
Bonnie lifted a hand to brush her fingertips lightly over his reddened cheek. “Did you put anything on this?”