A Proposal at the Wedding. GINA WILKINS
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beforehand, she explained casually. Finishing her drink, she glanced at her watch. “I’d better get those vegetables home before they start roasting in the car. Thank you for the coffee, Paul. I enjoyed talking with you.”
“Same here.” He stood as she did. “I’ll look forward to next Tuesday. I’m sure you have a lot to teach me.”
She felt her eyebrows rise a bit in response to his tone—had there been a bit of a flirtatious undertone?—but then she decided she was probably overanalyzing. Of course he referred only to cooking skills.
She had the sense that he watched her walk away, though she didn’t look back to make sure. She found herself smiling during the drive home, her pulse fluttering a little. Was she looking forward to next Tuesday just a bit too much?
She was probably too young for him. Paul didn’t know how old Bonnie Carmichael was, but she didn’t look much older than his daughter. He wasn’t quite sure if Bonnie thought of him as anything more than the father of a bride. A dad who had a lamentable habit of crashing into her.
He’d been startled enough by the physical impact with her the first time they’d met. But then he’d looked down at her and had been metaphorically jolted again. She was so pretty, in the classic sense of the word. Big blue eyes framed by long lashes, a perfect nose and chin, a fair, heart-shaped face framed by wavy blond hair. Not very tall, but nicely curved. His first thought had been a simple “Wow.”
Maybe she’d had coffee with him today only to sign him up for her class, but she’d seemed to enjoy the conversation, and the invitation to join had seemed spontaneous. He had talked an awful lot about himself, he recalled with a grimace as he dumped the four squash he’d purchased into the crisper drawer of his nearly empty fridge, hardly desirable dating etiquette. Not that having an impromptu coffee with Bonnie counted as a date, of course. But maybe she wouldn’t mind getting together again, if he hadn’t bored her senseless with his life history.
Not that he was looking for anything serious, of course. Only a few weeks away from having a grown, married daughter, free to put his desires first for the first time since he was a teenager, he certainly wasn’t eager to tie himself down to a serious relationship before the wedding even took place. Especially not with anyone looking to get married and have kids—the stage of life he figured was already in his past. Women Bonnie’s age were often thinking along those lines, but he’d gotten the impression that she was more concerned at the moment with getting the inn on a solid financial footing. Which meant maybe she would be interested in spending a little time just having fun with someone else who wasn’t looking for more?
The outside kitchen door opened and his daughter hurried in. Cassie always rushed, even when she had no place to be. He always teased that she’d bypassed crawling as a baby and had progressed straight into running. With only a few weeks remaining until her wedding and with her fiancé already spending much of his time in London, his daughter had moved in with him two weeks ago when the lease on her apartment had expired. She could have moved back in with her mother’s family, of course, but his place was closer to the university she attended, and she claimed that her mother’s place was too hectic with fourteen-year-old twins always in and out with their friends. Paul had been delighted to welcome her to his home until the wedding, giving him a chance to savor this time with her before she moved so far away.
“I hope you haven’t eaten lunch,” she said, hefting a paper bag. “I stopped for a takeout salad on the way here and I bought you one, too. Whoa, are those fresh vegetables you’re putting away? You’ve been buying produce?”
“I went to the farmers’ market,” he told her, feeling somewhat sanctimonious as he closed the fridge. “I bought peaches, tomatoes, squash and a loaf of banana nut bread made by a local bakery.”
“The banana bread is an indulgence, of course, but the fruit and veggies are a nice step forward for you. I’m proud of you,” she teased, setting the takeout bag on the central island in his tidy kitchen.
“You’re about to be thoroughly impressed,” he assured her gravely. “I’ve signed up for cooking classes. Six hours of instruction on cooking with seasonal produce.”
Cassie made a show of slapping her hands to her cheeks, her bright green eyes rounded, her rosy mouth shaped into an O of surprise. Her layered strawberry blond hair bounced around her face with her energetic movements. “You’re taking cooking lessons? What has gotten into you?”
He shrugged. “You won’t be around after August to nag me about eating healthier. I guess it’ll be up to me to take care of myself.”
“I guess you’re right.” She stood on tiptoe to brush her lips across his cheek. “But I’ll still call all the time from London to make sure you’re being good. Every day, maybe.”
“I hope so.” Despite his light tone, he still couldn’t think of her being that far away without a hollow feeling in his midsection.
“Who’s offering these classes? The community college?”
Filling two glasses with ice, he shook his head. “Bonnie Carmichael will be teaching them at Bride Mountain Inn. I ran into her—er, sort of literally—at the farmers’ market this morning and one thing led to another and before I knew it I was signed up for cooking classes.”
“Please tell me you didn’t knock her down again,” Cassie said with a groan, looking up from setting out their salads on the round oak kitchen table.
He laughed ruefully. “Just bumped her arm and knocked a tomato out of her hand. Wasn’t my fault this time. Some woman nearly ran me over trying to get to a basket of cucumbers.”
“Honestly, Dad, this woman is hosting my wedding. If you keep assaulting her, she’s going to fire me as a client.”
Though he knew Cassie was teasing, he shook his head. “She’s much too professional to take it out on you. I could tell how much pride she takes in the inn.”
“Yes, so could I. Kinley’s really ambitious for the inn too, I think, but from what I’ve seen, Bonnie is the one who just truly loves the place, you know? I get the impression that for Kinley it’s a career. One she loves, but still a job. For Bonnie, the inn is her home. Definitely where her heart is.”
From the time she was a young teen, Cassie had prided herself on being an astute observer of people. She was so good at it that her friends often consulted her about potential dates—and she boasted that she’d saved a few from making big mistakes. Paul thought she was right on the money this time. From what he’d observed of the Carmichael sisters, his daughter had just perfectly summed up their feelings about their family inn. He hadn’t spent any time with Logan Carmichael, so he couldn’t say what Bonnie’s brother felt about the place, but he’d seen the love in Bonnie’s eyes when she’d talked about the inn where she lived and worked.
He’d never really felt that connection to a place. Home to him for the past twenty-one years had been where his daughter was. Now that she was moving away he was going to have to find a new definition for himself. There was a certain freedom in the knowledge that after August there was nothing holding him here, no reason not to strike out and explore the world a bit on his own, as his predominantly married, tied-down friends had pointed out to him lately. Footloose traveling was something he’d never felt he could do—never wanted to do—while Cassie was growing up.
“I still can’t believe you’re going to take cooking classes,” Cassie commented as she stabbed a fork into her takeout grilled chicken salad. “I mean, it’s great—but funny.”
“Bonnie warned me I’ll be the only man. It’s a small class. Only six students.”
His daughter grinned. “Maybe you’ll meet someone interesting there. Someone single, nice…and a healthy cook, as a bonus.”
Cassie had been trying to fix him up with someone for quite a while, but especially since she’d become engaged. He suspected she was afraid he’d be lonely after she moved away. And maybe he would, at least at first…but he’d deal with