Page 45 of That Reilly Boy
“I think small corsages for me and—” Gin pauses just long enough for the hesitation to be noticeable. “Colleen.”
Hayden smiles. “That sounds lovely.”
It does sound lovely, but I’m going to have to reach out to Sherry privately and have her keep an eye on those corsages because the mother of the bride wearing a corsage that matches my bouquet and the mother of the groom having wilted poison ivy pinned to her dress is no way to blend a family.
Sherry hands Hayden back his credit card. “I think that’s all we need for now, then. We’ll get started on it right away because it’s right around the corner.”
“Thank you.” Then Hayden turns his considerable charm on my mother. “Gin, I’d love for our families to get together for a dinner before the wedding. It would be nice to have everybody together before the big day.”
Smart guy, I think. Hit her with the idea of sharing a meal with the enemy while she has an audience. Sure, the audience is her best friend, but she’s not going to make a scene in the flower shop.
“That sounds lovely,” she echoes back at him, sprinkling the same amount of fake sweetener over the words.
“We should go,” I say before this can get any worse. On top of all the things I belatedly realized I need to make happen in a little over a week, the Gambles and Reillys are going to share a meal? Finger sandwiches maybe. I’m not giving Gin and Colleen cutlery. “Hayden has to head back to Boston for a bit.”
“We’ll get on that dinner, though,” Hayden assures Gin. “Cara can let you know the plan.”
“Lovely,” Gin says, losing the battle to not look and sound as if she just smelled something horribly disgusting.
Once we’re outside and have moved far enough down the sidewalk so we can’t be seen through the flower shop windows, I stop and lean against the cool brick wall. “I can’t believe you did that.”
“We can’t get married without flowers.”
I narrow my eyes and poke his shoulder with my finger. “You know I’m talking about the dinner.”
He grasps my wrist, gently, my pulse pounding under his curled fingers. “We have to have them in a room together before the ceremony. I’d rather have them throwing mashed potatoes at each other than our wedding cake.”
“True.” Why am I not pulling my hand away? I really should. “I was already thinking finger sandwiches so there are no knives and forks on the table.”
His fingers slide down my wrist to my fingers, and he brings my hand to his mouth. His breath is warm against my skin, and then the kiss he plants there is so hot every nerve in my body sizzles. “It’s going to be okay, Cara. Everything’s going according to plan.”
My reaction to his mouth on my skin is not part of the plan. It’s just a show for any of the citizens of Sumac Falls looking our way. He’s just a means to an end for me, and I’m absolutely not going to fall for this man again.
I mean it.
He lowers our hands, though his fingers stay tangled with mine. “Trust me.”
Trusting him is what got me into this mess in the first place.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Hayden
Since Cara has a grooming appointment to get to, we part ways on the sidewalk. I would have liked to spend more time with her and maybe talk through some more of the details, but we both have to get to work. I pick up Penelope and my bags, and head back to Boston.
I ignore the business calls that come in during the drive, which is unlike me. But I have a lot to get done and dictating task lists into my phone calms me. Although, they’re not so much tasks as things I need to run by Cara later.
Things like what she’s going to wear and what kind of cake she’d like and what kind of reception she wants to have. I’d said a simple wedding, but there isn’t anything simple about it, I guess.
I already have Penny and my laptop with me, so I skip my apartment and drive straight to the tall, shiny building my company offices are in. We have an underground garage and private elevator, so in no time, I’m waving to the Reilly Financial receptionists and heading down the hushed hallways with Penny at my side.
There’s an office between the hallway and mine, and it’s the domain of Taylor Sullivan. Executive Assistant doesn’t even begin to cover her role in my life. Shortly after I opened my own financial firm, I poached her from her previous boss. He kept asking her questions and then speaking over her answers, though it was obvious she knew more about what was going on than he did. I respect her, I pay her well, and she helped me make my company what it is. I know her next birthday will be her sixtieth and I dread the day she tells me she’s ready to retire.
While I appreciate her playing the dragon guarding the mouth of my cave for the most part, it also means I can’t sneak into my office.
“Good afternoon,” she says pleasantly enough, bending to give Penny her customary chin rub. It’s always struck me as less Penny looking for affection, and more as her tolerating the greeting due her as the boss’s dog.
“Good afternoon,” I respond. I’m not surprised that when I open the door and follow Penny into my office, Taylor’s right behind us.
