Her Unexpected Family. Ruth Logan Herne

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СКАЧАТЬ unmentionable things she’d smeared on Grant’s coat. Her little jacket was dotted with something unidentifiable and had remnants of vanilla wafer crushed into the zipper, but when the former beauty queen took her, Dolly wove two tiny hands into the prettiest red hair he’d ever seen and chortled. “Ba! Ba!”

      “Red.” The woman ducked her head while Dolly explored her hair, then peeked up at the girl and pulled a strand of that long, gorgeous hair sideways for the little one to see. “Red hair.”

      “Wad!” Dolly laughed, amused, as if the wedding planner got her joke.

      “Miss Gallagher, I’m sorry we’re late.” He made a face of regret and nodded toward the clock. “We missed the first appointment because Dolly had that nasty upper respiratory virus that’s been going around. Then Timmy got it. And now, my Aunt Tillie—”

      “Tillie Gibson, right?” she asked, and nodded toward Allison. “My mom and Allison handled her daughter’s wedding last spring. I heard it was wonderful.”

      “They were thrilled with how it all came out,” he admitted. “And that’s what made me think of Kate & Company for my sister Christa’s wedding. She and her fiancé, Spencer, are both deployed, they’re pursuing air force careers, and I wanted to make this wedding nice for her. I know these aren’t exactly ideal conditions.”

      The redhead frowned. “Not ideal conditions? Why?”

      She acted as if she really didn’t have a clue and that made Grant drag a hand through his hair. It seemed thinner on top right now, and why would he notice that at this moment? Was it because of the drop-dead beauty standing there, holding his precious child and looking up at him with the most amazing bright brown eyes he’d ever seen?

      Yes, which was ridiculous because he’d been out of the dating game for years and it wasn’t a game he ever intended to play again. “Well, the kids. With Tillie sick...”

      “We’ll talk around them.”

      She had to be kidding. He looked beyond her to the classy office that smacked of good taste, not sticky fingers. “Do you—”

      “I’m Emily.” She kept Dolly snugged in her arm, looking quite comfortable with the child as she extended her right hand. “The middle one.”

      Oh, he knew who she was all right. He might be ten years older than she was, but the whole town had watched and cheered as Emily Gallagher brought home first prize in pageant after pageant as a teen, then as a woman.

      He glanced around, doubtful. “You really think this will be okay?”

      “Pull up a spot on the carpet.” He wasn’t sure how someone could manage to sink to the floor gracefully while holding a messy toddler, but Emily Gallagher did it with finesse. Once down, she set Dolly on her bottom, then worked the cookie-crusted zipper from the jacket with nimble fingers. “Allison, can you do a quick sweep for anything reachable and breakable?”

      “I’m on it. And here’s a pen so you can do hard-copy notes. We’ll transfer them later.”

      “Post-babies!” She laughed, and when she did, Grant’s blood pressure dropped to a more normal level even though his heart sped up.

      She wasn’t patronizing him. She wasn’t treating Dolly different from Tim, and for reasons he’d never be able to explain, Dolly had fallen in love with Emily at first sight, and Dolly didn’t like too many people.

      “So.” She picked up the pen, flipped open the notebook and faced him as he and Timmy settled onto the floor nearby. “We talked about a February wedding on the phone. Is that still the plan?”

      “January, now,” he told her as he worked Timmy’s jacket off. “The second Saturday.” The minute he was free of his father’s help, the little boy got up and raced around the spacious room.

      “I’ll keep an eye out from here,” Allison promised from her area. “You guys see what you can accomplish.”

      “You told me on the phone that Christa and Spencer are regular, straightforward people. Neither one likes too much glitz and glamour.”

      “No, ma’am. They’re simple, hardworking types. Most of my family’s the same way.”

      He must have sounded brusque, because her left brow rose fractionally, but her voice stayed matter-of-fact. “While several of the local venues close for the winter, most stay open as needed, making a January venue fairly easy to secure.”

      “Of course the problem is, we run into storms, then.” He frowned, because in his line of work, weather always took primary consideration. “There’s no way around it, though. That’s the only time they can arrange leave together.”

      “Have generators waiting...” she murmured as she made a note on the pad.

      He stared at her. “You’re serious?”

      “Of course. It’s sensible, right?”

      “Yes, but—” He looked around the beautiful trappings of her mother’s business and shrugged. “You surprised me, that’s all.”

      She paused her pen, looked him in the eye and held his gaze. “Pretty doesn’t mean nonfunctional.”

      Ouch.

      She’d nailed his opinion in one quick lesson, and while he was sure she meant well, he’d run the gamut with his wife of nearly nine years. Serenity had lived for appearances. Not so much at first. She’d been a local news anchor for the Rochester area and had been crazy popular. He’d thought she was happy.

      She wasn’t.

      As their economic status rose, so did her penchant for success.

      They’d put off having children because the timing had never been quite right. Her job, his job, education, job security... And then suddenly they were pregnant with twins.

      Grant had been ecstatic.

      Serenity had looked trapped from the moment the stick changed color until the day she piled her suitcases and a picture of Timmy into her car and drove to a new job in Baltimore. He pushed the image aside.

      “Backup generators would be great.”

      “Do we want a church for the ceremony?”

      “Christa has always loved the abbey your uncle runs. I ran the new date by him and he said it was clear, so I was thinking a two o’clock wedding. Is that a good time?”

      “Perfect, especially with the decreased daylight in winter.” She made a quick note as Dolly tried to grab her pen. “Hey, you.” She laughed into Dolly’s sweet, round face and then up at him. “So that’s Tim.” She pointed to the little boy. “And this is?”

      “Dolly.”

      “Perfect!” She laughed and made wide eyes at Dolly. Dolly shrieked in delight, clapped her hands together and giggled out loud. “She’s like a little doll. Great name.”

      “It’s really Dolores Marie for my mother,” he said. “I thought Dolly would be a cute nickname for her. My mother СКАЧАТЬ