Kiss the Bride (30 page)

“You're telling me that you're in charge of cleaning up the yard?” Mac couldn't hide her confusion.

“Actually, I'm kind of in charge of everything.”

Everything. He had to be kidding.

“But . . . but what about Hollis? And your mom?”

“Mom started to take over and Hollis started to panic. When I mentioned I was going to meet with Dr. Heath, she decided the lake house would be the perfect place for her and Connor to exchange their vows. But they've been busy so I offered to help.”

Too busy to plan her own wedding? But then again, Hollis probably didn't have to.

“At least she hired a wedding planner—” Mac stopped at the look on Ethan's face. “She doesn't have a wedding planner?”

“She and Connor want to keep things simple.”

Simple?

Simple didn't sell newspapers.

Mac saw her chances of interviewing Senator Tipley slipping away.

Ethan frowned. “What's wrong?”

“My editor wants to run a story in next week's edition too. He's expecting me to interview everyone connected with the wedding.”

“Like who?” The fact that Ethan seemed genuinely curious spiked another wave of panic.

“Like the florist. The . . . the penguin guy. The caterer.”

“You lost me at penguin.”

“He plays the violin,” Mac muttered.

“Do you know someone? I told Hollis I'd take care of the music too.”

“Ethan.” Mac dragged in a breath. Released it. Slowly. “I don't think you realize what you signed on for. Weddings don't just happen by themselves. You need a cake. A photographer. Decorations.”

In a little less than two weeks.

The Hollis Channing that Mac had gone to school with would have taken that long to pick out her nail polish for the event.

“It sounds like you know a lot about weddings.”

“Not really. My friend Annie Price is getting married next month.” Mac had spent a Saturday afternoon with Annie at Second Story Books, the bookstore she managed, paging through bridal magazines. Every wedding task list she'd seen had had a one-year countdown.

“You know more than I do, that's for sure.” The sudden gleam in Ethan's green eyes made Mac nervous.

“Ah . . . I have to be at work by seven thirty. I'll get out of your way as soon as I take a few pictures of the boathouse.”

“You know,” Ethan mused, “Hollis wasn't exactly thrilled when I told her that Mom contacted the
Register
about her wedding.”

“I never said it was your mother.”

“You didn't have to.” Ethan reached out and the tip of his finger grazed her cheek. “Your freckles turned pink. Dead giveaway.”

Mac was glad he couldn't see her toes curling inside her boots.

“It's—”
What is it again?
“News.”
That's right. It's news
. “Everyone in Red Leaf remembers your family, and Hollis
is
marrying an actor.”

“Which is one of the reasons they wanted to keep it simple.” Ethan's hand dropped to his side and the gleam became a smile that spilled into the corners of his eyes. “So I propose we make a deal.”

“A deal.”

“You need photographs, and I need some help.”

“What kind of help?” Mac asked suspiciously.

“You give me a little guidance and I'll make sure you get your story.”

“That's . . . you're trying to
bribe
me?”

“I like to think of it more as a win-win situation. You get the inside scoop on the wedding, and I get someone who knows there's supposed to be a guy in a penguin suit.”

And Grant would let her interview Senator Tipley.

It also meant spending more time with Ethan.

“I don't know—”

“I need you, Mac,” Ethan said quietly. “It's important to my baby sister that her wedding day goes smoothly. Dad isn't here to make sure that happens so I promised her I would.”

Mac heard a disturbing sound. The sound of another interior wall crumbling.

“Fine. I'll do what I can.”

Not the most enthusiastic response but Ethan would take it.

Mac started down to the lake, all business, and he fell into step behind her, fascinated with the way the swish of her auburn ponytail matched the gentle sway of her hips.

“You do have a nice view.”

“Um . . .” She's talking about the water. “Yes. Nice.”

“Where are Hollis and Connor going to exchange their vows?”

“Down by the water.” Ethan pointed to a natural curve in the shoreline.

Mac raised her camera. “What time?”

“Six o'clock.”

“An evening wedding.” She nodded her approval. “The natural lighting will be good that time of day.”

Ethan hadn't thought about the lighting at all. He hadn't thought about music or decorations or flowers, either.

Mac snapped a picture. “Do they have a theme?”

“It's a wedding. Isn't that the theme?”

He took Mac's ragged exhale as a no.

“Hollis said all she needs is a groom, a pastor, and a wedding dress.”

“I hate to tell you this, Ethan, but your sister lied to you. My friend Annie is having a simple wedding but she's been planning for months to make it special. The two don't cancel each other out.”

“I'm open to suggestions.” Really open.

“Start by working with what you have.” Mac's gaze swept over the property. “Brides pay tons of money for hydrangeas and you've got a whole row of them growing against the foundation of the house. Don't rip the wild grapevine down, have the photographer use it as a backdrop. Put floating lanterns in the lake. Strings of lights in the trees.”

“You said you didn't know much about weddings. Where did you come up with all these ideas?”

“I don't know.” Mac shrugged, but a wave of color washed over the delicate curve of her jaw and filled the spaces between her freckles. “What about the menu for the reception?”

“Hollis said—”

“Let me guess.” Another sigh. “Keep it simple.”

“Right.”

“How many guests?”

“Mmm. Twenty?” Judging from Mac's expression, Ethan should have made it sound like a statement rather than a question.

He was beginning to understand why Mac had reacted the way she had when he'd said he was in charge of the details. Planning a wedding wasn't exactly part of his skill set.

“Red Leaf doesn't have anyone who caters, but you could talk to Sharon at the Korner Kettle. Her daughter made
hors d'oeuvres for the historical society's fashion show last week and they were amazing.”

“Jennifer still lives in town?” She'd been the salutatorian of Ethan's graduating class, voted Most Likely to Make the Cover of
Fortune
Magazine.

“She married Mike Abbott and they run his dad's lumberyard together.” Mac shook her head. “You'd be surprised how many people stayed in Red Leaf . . . or ended up coming back.”

He shot her a sideways glance. “Like us.”

“Like you,” Mac corrected. “I came back to take care of Coach after his heart attack, but he really doesn't need me anymore. I've already stayed about six months longer than I planned.”

“Where do you want to go?” Ethan didn't know why, but the thought of Mac leaving Red Leaf cast a shadow over the conversation.

“A few weeks ago, the editor at the
Heritage
called and told me they have an opening for a reporter. The deadline is the first of September, and he encouraged me to apply for it.”

“Isn't that where you did your internship?”

“It's where I ran errands and proofread everyone else's articles,” Mac said ruefully. “My internship will help but the competition is pretty fierce. In order to get the job, I have to submit a sample of my work.”

“You've been writing for the
Register
since you came home. It shouldn't be a problem.”

“I've been covering meetings and community events. I need something that will grab their attention.” Mac angled
the camera toward the sky and snapped a photo of the eagle Ethan had seen the day before.

“Aren't you supposed to be taking photographs of the wedding venue?” he teased.

“That handsome guy is on the guest list.” Mac tucked the camera into her bag. “Did Hollis happen to mention a cake?”

“I'll add it to the list. Right after buying twinkly little lights but before the guy in the penguin suit.”

Ethan's breath tangled in his lungs when Mac smiled. A real smile, as unexpected and enchanting as a shooting star.

It was the same one Ethan had seen on Mac's face in the video clip when he'd made the winning touchdown ten years ago.

The team had always looked at Mac like a kid sister, and that was what she'd been to Ethan. A kid. He'd never really looked at her at all.

He'd been an idiot.

It might have taken a decade, but never let it be said that Ethan Channing didn't learn from his mistakes.

Mac had forgotten how loud a van-load of teenage boys could
be. Or how fragrant. She cracked the driver's side window of the van. The combination of testosterone and AXE cologne was a little overpowering.

Mac had stopped by the high school on her lunch break to drop a sandwich off for Coach—turkey on whole wheat—and found the entire team squirming on the bench.

School wasn't in session yet, but her dad was a stickler about the team getting into shape before the season started. Judging from the guilty looks on the boys' faces, they'd done something that hadn't been in the playbook.

“What do you think the consequences should be for having a shaving cream fight in the locker room, Mackenzie?” her dad had barked. “Crunches? Push-ups?”

It suddenly occurred to Mac that all that restless energy could be put to good use outside the field as well. “I have a better idea.”

She'd given Coach the sandwich and taken the keys to his van.

“Are we really going to meet Ethan Channing?” One of the boys leaned over Mac's shoulder. “My dad still talks about the play-off between the Lumberjacks and the Lions.”

Was she the only person in Red Leaf who wanted to forget that game?

“I'm sure he'll be there.” Mac felt another pinch of guilt for taking off and leaving him alone with his wedding checklist.

Not that Ethan had given her much of a choice.

So why did her brain tend to sift out the bad memories until all that remained was the look on Ethan's face when he'd said those four little words?

I need you, Mac.

Because she was a glutton for punishment.

There was no sign of Ethan when she pulled up to the house, but country music blasted from an old radio perched on a pyramid of paint cans.

Ethan emerged from the garage as Mac turned off the ignition. He stopped short when he saw the boys spilling out of the van, and his gaze cut to her, a question in his eyes. “What's going on?”

“You're looking at the starting lineup for the Red Leaf Lions.”

“I usually perform physicals in an office,” Ethan murmured.

“They aren't here to get a physical. What they need is a few hours of intense conditioning.”

Ethan still looked so adorably confused that Mac couldn't
help but shake her head. “I think you've forgotten what it's like to live in a small town, Dr. Channing.”