Her Unexpected Family. Ruth Logan Herne
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closer to Grant’s and brought up the online contracts. “I know you need to get home, so if we can go over the major points here, I’ll print things up and we’re good to go. Unless you’d rather have me email it to you so you can examine the details back at your place.”
“Here’s good. Ditches and roads are my forte, not party planning. Which is why I came to the best.”
When he said it, he looked straight at Emily, as if assured she could do the job without her mother or big sister looking over her shoulder. His vote of confidence felt good, if a bit surprising after his initial reaction to her. “I’ll contact Christa about the other things. Dress, attendants, flowers. Whatever else she has in mind, I’ll be happy to run interference for her.”
“You don’t mind?”
“Not in the least. That’s my favorite part of the process.” She tapped a few keys as she spoke, filled in a few more spots and hit Print. “I’m happy to do it. Let’s not forget that Kate & Company managed to put together a star-studded wedding for the president’s daughter, while her whole family was stomping the campaign trail two months ago. Ninety percent of that was in absentia.”
“And it was amazing,” Drew called from the other room. “Not that I’m listening to you guys or anything.”
Drew’s words seemed to bolster Grant. “If you could talk to Christa, and make everything flow for her, I don’t think there’s enough money in the world to show my thanks. She asked me to stand with her, so that’s a little weird already.”
“As her witness? What a perfectly lovely thing to do, brother and sister, standing before God together.”
He made a face. “I’d have been okay with just walking the bride down the aisle and maintaining a low profile for the remainder of the day.”
“That makes Christa’s gesture sweeter.” She handed him the hard-copy contract. “I’ve got Christa’s email now. Maybe she and I can arrange a Skype session at the bridal salon. And with so many possibilities online, we can come up with something absolutely beautiful for her.”
Grant withdrew his phone and pulled up a picture of a happy couple with snow-capped mountains in the background. “This was taken two years ago when they were at a ski lodge in Colorado. She’s built like you,” he told Emily. “But taller. She usually likes things kind of simple, but that’s everyday stuff.” He frowned at the picture. “When it comes to a wedding gown, who knows?”
“It’s always the ones you least expect who choose a princess gown,” Rory muttered as she closed her laptop and stood. “And the princesses pick a mermaid dress and can’t climb into the overpriced limo without help.”
“Yeah, like that,” Grant agreed. He shifted to face Emily directly again. “You don’t mind doing that part, too?”
“I’ll love it. I’ll get hold of Christa as soon as I can. We’ll set something up and I’ll keep you in the loop.”
Rory had crossed to the kitchen. She came back and set a tray of pastries in front of Grant. “Gabby sent these as a thank-you for the business we’ve been bringing her, and Kimberly made it abundantly clear that they need to disappear,” she instructed. “Something about fitting into that wedding gown next week.”
“Let’s send a few home with him,” Emily suggested. “Leave a couple for Amy, but if we send them with Grant, the twins will be beside themselves, and Tillie and Percy will love us forever.”
“Percy’s got a sweet tooth, for certain, but—”
Emily stepped closer, reaching one hand up, over his mouth. She slid her gaze toward the living room, then raised one brow. “Taking them will be an act of kindness, Grant. There’s a bride in the next room,” she whispered. “Save her from herself, and just take the pastries. Okay?”
His eyes met hers, and this time they didn’t stray. They lingered and twinkled as if he liked looking into her eyes. “Okay.”
Her heart fluttered. She moved her hand away from his face, but couldn’t draw her eyes from his.
“I’ll just put these on a double paper plate, Grant.” Rory’s movement broke the moment, and maybe Emily was wrong. Maybe it wasn’t even a moment.
But when she walked Grant to the door, he turned and held her gaze once more. Then he reached out and took her hand while raising the plate of treats. “The family will love these. Thank you.”
He squeezed her hand lightly and smiled.
Gone was the defensiveness she’d seen last week. In its place was an easy grin. She smiled back, and when he released her hand, her fingers felt downright cold and lonely as she closed the door.
She couldn’t get involved, she knew that, but for that brief moment, getting involved felt like an absolutely wonderful thing to do.
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