With a low growl, he pulled the pillow from beneath his elbow and made a show of threatening to put it over her face. She batted it away, laughing, and he told her he had better ways of silencing her—which he then proceeded to demonstrate, changing her laughter to moans of pleasure.
It was late by the time he finally donned his jacket and prepared to leave. He gave one last pat to Fiona, who wound around his ankles once, then sat on a rug to groom herself. Though he was probably just projecting emotions onto the cat, he couldn’t help thinking she was still annoyed he hadn’t brought her dog buddy tonight. Alexis laughed when he suggested the possibility. “She’ll get over it. And maybe next time you can bring Ninja.”
He wasn’t sure when that next time might be, considering everything, but at least she didn’t seem to be annoyed that he’d patently avoided her suggestion that he join her in Seattle. Maybe it really had been just an impulsive idea, and she hadn’t particularly cared one way or another if he accepted. She’d have a good time with him or without him.
“I’ll think about what you said, okay?” he said gruffly. “The Seattle thing, I mean.”
Her eyebrows rose, almost as if she’d already forgotten the conversation. “Yeah, sure. The invitation stands, if you’re interested.”
He kissed her good-night, then took his leave. He made the drive home with a frown knotting his eyebrows. The strength of his temptation to book an immediate flight to Seattle worried him a little. Okay, it sounded great to spend a few days in a new city with a beautiful, sexy companion. But what bothered him was that he suspected he wouldn’t have been nearly as tempted if anyone other than Alexis had issued the invitation. And he was pretty sure he was going to miss her while she was gone.
Which meant, he decided, that he should definitely decline her offer. Maybe he’d been spending a little too much time with Alexis lately. He didn’t want to get into the habit of expecting her to be there whenever he wanted her company. As he’d learned all too painfully in the past, depending on anyone other than his immediate family to always be there for him—even if, unlike Alexis, they promised to do so—all too often led to heartache. He’d had enough of that pain. He wasn’t risking it again.
* * *
Most winter and early-spring weddings at Bride Mountain Inn were held indoors. The pretty front parlor, where his sisters had married, was perfect f
or smaller, more intimate affairs, and the big dining room, with its beautiful woodwork and antique chandelier and many windows to make the most of the views, served for larger events.
Afternoons could be cold and wet on Bride Mountain from December through mid-April, so brides who wanted to wed outdoors during that season took their chances with the weather, but still some chose to do so. Alexis had overseen a couple of Christmas-season outdoor weddings that had made the most of beautiful decorations and portable outdoor heaters. She’d even provided rented blankets for guests at one of the events, and the weather had cooperated by staying clear, though cold. Even during the nicest springs, summers and falls, it was necessary to have backup plans for unexpected bad weather. Still, it was always nerve-racking preparing for off-season outdoors events, as with the upcoming Kempshall wedding scheduled for Saturday afternoon.
Josie Kempshall had attended high school with Alexis, and had been one of the first to sign with her when Alexis took over Blue Ridge Celebrations. Josie had been newly engaged at the time, and it had taken several months for her and her fiancé to choose a date and venue, but she’d been adamant that she wanted Alexis on board no matter what the final plans would turn out to be. Despite Alexis’s suggestions that she might want to consider alternative ideas, Josie had ultimately set her heart on an outdoor afternoon wedding in March, the month in which she and her fiancé had first met. Plan B was to hold the ceremony in the dining room, and the guest list had been winnowed accordingly, but the bride had made it clear that her first choice was the garden, bare branches and all. Alexis had obsessively monitored weather reports, and was heartened to see that there was little chance of precipitation that weekend, with the temperature hovering in the mid-sixties for the afternoon.
“Let’s hope the weather forecasters are right this time,” Kinley said during a final organizational meeting with Alexis and Bonnie prior to the event. Kinley held up crossed fingers as she spoke. “So far, so good for a nice weekend.”
“If only the rain holds off until the start of next week, as predicted, everything will work out fine,” Alexis agreed.
Pragmatic Bonnie shrugged. “It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve frantically decorated the dining room at the last minute, if necessary. Probably won’t be the last time if we have to do it this weekend. The wedding will be beautiful, no matter what.”
Alexis nodded. At least the theme Josie had chosen for her wedding was fairly easy to coordinate. She wanted the event to celebrate the start of spring, using the colors of the daffodil as her inspiration—the rich green of leaves and the crisp white, bold yellow and bright orange of petals and coronas reflected in clothing and decorations. Redbuds, dogwoods and silver bell trees were just coming into bloom on the grounds and surrounding mountainside. Pots of daffodils and white and yellow tulips would be generously arranged to make up for the sparse color in the not-yet-in-bloom flower gardens. A few outdoor heaters would be strategically arranged near the rows of folding seats—just in case.
In lieu of a sit-down meal, Josie had opted for hors d’oeuvres and desserts at a reception on the grounds following the ceremony. She didn’t want a tent, but instead a casual arrangement of tables on the side lawn. The reception theme was a spring picnic—more daffodils and tulips arranged in canning jars and metal pitchers, gingham checks and polka dots on ribbons and linens, a bluegrass band playing from a wooden farm wagon as their stage.
Logan was not at all happy about the wagon. With the grounds still soft from spring rains and the grass still replenishing itself from snow cover, he worried about wheel tracks and ruts in the meticulously leveled side lawn. Though he hadn’t spoken with the client, he’d grumbled plenty to Alexis and Kinley. Kinley had reminded him that since they’d reopened the inn they’d hosted weddings with oversize tents, complete with chandeliers and dance floors, an assortment of charity functions including a couple of carnivals, two Easter egg hunts, and a sweet sixteen party that had included a rock band and more balloons than they’d find at a traveling circus. The lawn had survived all that, despite his complaints each time. Alexis noted that Kinley carefully avoided mentioning the unfortunate sandbox incident.
Though Logan wasn’t appeased by the litany of challenges his landscaping had endured, he stopped fussing and went back to work while Bonnie excused herself to head inside to see to their guests. Once again, Alexis was fairly confident Kinley and Bonnie had no clue that she and Logan had seen each other outside of their semi-regular work confrontations. Either Logan really was capable of switching his emotions on and off like a lightbulb, completely compartmentalizing his work and private lives, or he was an actor worthy of awards. She’d worked with performers on Broadway who hadn’t been as convincing.
She had set her leather bag on the low rock retaining wall at the foot of the steps up to the side lawn while she and the Carmichael siblings discussed the reception. She turned to retrieve it, only to be startled to find it gone. Even as she wondered for a moment if she really had left it there, she caught a streak of black and brown out of the corner of her eye. She spun in that direction just as Kinley called out, “Ninja! Bring that back right this minute. Logan!”
The dog danced just out of arm’s reach, holding the tote bag in his mouth, his amber-brown eyes seeming to twinkle with good-natured mischief. Shaking her head in amusement, Alexis knelt and held out one hand. “Bring me the bag, please, Ninja.”
She would have almost sworn that the sound he made was a satisfied chuckle as he approached her and dropped the tote in front of her. Other than a little doggy spit, she saw no marks on it. “Thank you,” she said, and he chuffed and wagged his tail.
“Silly dog.” She rubbed his ears, then laughed softly when he crowded closer to her, nuzzling her face and making his goofy rumble-purr.
“Wow, he likes you,” Kinley commented with a shake of her head.
“I’ve met him here before,” Alexis replied lightly. “And dogs know an animal lover when they see one.”
“Sorry.” Logan stepped up to take a firm hold of his dog’s collar. “He ran past me when I opened the back gate to my yard to get something out of the toolshed. He doesn’t usually do that.”
He met Alexis’s eyes briefly, and she got the unspoken message that he thought Ninja had rushed out because he’d known she was there. She smiled and gave Ninja one last pat, though she was probably rewarding him for naughty behavior, then straightened and smoothed her clothes absently with one hand. “No problem. He was just being mischievous.”
“That dog,” Kinley said with a frown, “is the bane of my existence. I can’t tell you how many times he’s stolen something from me or Bonnie and hidden it under a rosebush or behind a bench or in Logan’s yard. Oddly enough, he rarely steals from the guests, but our stuff is fair game to him. Taking your bag is somewhat out of character for him.”
Alexis shrugged good-naturedly. “You were standing here when he snatched my bag, so he was probably toying with you.”
Logan shook his head. “Now you sound like my sisters, ascribing human emotions to a dog. Kinley thinks he deliberately tries to drive her crazy, and Bonnie keeps talking about his ‘quirky sense of humor.’ He’s a smart dog, sure, but I doubt his actions are quite that calculated.”