Wind Chime Wedding (A Wind Chime Novel Book 2) (36 page)

She turned back, stifling a laugh. “I haven’t had a chance to tell everyone that the wedding’s off.”

Colin’s lips curved as he went in for another longer, deeper kiss. “Maybe you won’t have to now.”

No, Becca thought, laughing. She knew how fast gossip traveled on this island. She pulled back, smiling, and gave her neighbors a friendly wave, as if it were perfectly normal for her to be kissing Colin when she was supposed to be marrying Tom in two weeks.

She had no doubt that the entire village would know that the wedding was off in less than an hour.

Turning, together, they started to walk up to the porch. They were almost to the top step when a flash of light caught her eye. Becca looked up at a tiny wind chime that Taylor had made for her months ago. It hung from one of the beams, spinning slowly as rays of light bounced off the pieces of a mirror Taylor had salvaged from a garage sale.

Becca reached up, touching one of the small reflective pieces, as a crazy thought began to take shape.

“Colin?”

“Yes?”

“How would you like to be my date at a wedding in two weeks?”

He looked back at her. “Whose?”

“Well…” she said, letting her hand fall away from the chime. “I don’t know if they’re going to go for it yet, but I have an idea…”

Two weeks later…

T
winkle lights shimmered through the leaves of every tree in the backyard at the inn. Wind chimes dangled from the branches, filling the air with their soft, lilting melodies as they swayed in the breezes blowing off the Bay. Mason jars filled with white candles flickered from the lawn, leading over two hundred guests on meandering paths between the inn, the pier, the picnic areas, the buffet, and the dessert table—which was where Colin was headed now, in search of a slice of that famous Smith Island Cake everyone kept talking about.

Skirting the edge of the dance floor, where a local band was getting ready to play, he waved to a group of people walking out of the inn. Most of the islanders had been in for a tour by now, eager to see the transformation. The construction had wrapped up a few days ago, and Annie, Will and Taylor would be moving into the brand new wing this weekend.

He’d been surprised at how many people had come up to him this evening to tell him how good it looked, how happy they were that he’d brought this place back to life. He’d expected most of the praise to have gone to Will, since the place technically belonged to him, but maybe some of the islanders were actually starting to accept Colin as one of them.

It hadn’t hurt that Grace’s article had destroyed his mother’s professional reputation and the board had subsequently fired her and dropped the threat to close the elementary school. With Taylor’s grandfather’s generous contribution, they had approved the renovations to the gym for that summer and found a way to fund the rest of the operating expenses with state money. All the teachers and staff would get to keep their jobs, and since Shelley hadn’t found a replacement for Becca yet, Becca had gladly accepted her old position back.

He looked across the lawn, at where Becca was talking with Grace by the water. He’d been concerned when she’d first come up with the idea of handing her entire wedding over to Annie and Will that it might be difficult for her to attend as a guest. But as far as he could tell, the fact that this event was supposed to have been hers didn’t seem to be fazing her at all. In a blue sundress, with a glass of pink champagne in her hand, she had never looked happier and more beautiful to him than she did tonight.

Passing by the old hackberry tree, he lifted his own glass in a silent toast to Will, who was chatting with Ryan and Jake, his arms wrapped securely around his bride. It was hard to believe that next weekend, the inn would officially open for business. A bunch of guys from their former team were flying out from San Diego to be here for the event on Memorial Day, as well as close to three hundred people he’d met working in Annapolis and volunteering at Walter Reed over the past year.

The next day, the first eleven veterans who were coming to stay with them would arrive. He already had jobs lined up for most of them on the island. Six of the men and two of the women would be working on Ryan’s father’s oyster farm. It would be hard work and it wouldn’t pay much at first, but they wouldn’t have any living expenses, and it would at least get their hands moving and their heads back in the right place. The ones who’d been too badly injured to do the heavy manual labor could work on the public relations side—marketing, branding, website development, building relationships with chefs, distributors, and other professionals who worked in the local seafood industry.

The whole thing was an experiment, and he knew they’d hit a few bumps along the way, but he couldn’t wait to get started.

He’d officially stepped down from his position at the State House the week before. He felt confident that the jobs program was in good hands with the rest of the team who’d helped him make it a reality. After getting off to a wobbly start, it was slowly starting to pick up traction again.

Richard Goldwater’s party was still scrambling to try to find more instances of corruption related to his father, but so far they hadn’t had any luck. He and his father had had a long talk after Grace’s article had come out, about a lot of things—things they probably should have talked about years ago.

His father wasn’t perfect. He’d made some mistakes in his life. But who hadn’t?

What mattered now was that they were back on good terms. They had both agreed that Colin wouldn’t have anything to do with the rest of the campaign. For the first time ever, they were going to try to have a normal father-son relationship—one that didn’t have anything to do with politics.

Spotting Luke and Courtney at the far end of the dessert table, he walked over to them. Della had outdone herself, baking around the clock for the past several days to create a mouthwatering spread of meringue pies, berry tarts, lemon bars, iced sugar cookies cut out in the shape of wedding bells, and of course, those famous Smith Island Cakes—a local specialty that featured ten layers of rich, buttery cake, each separated by a layer of icing.

“Which one should I try first?” he asked, when Courtney handed him a plate.

“Coconut,” Luke said quickly, then hesitated. “No. Wait…chocolate!” He came over to stand beside Colin, peering down at the cakes. “Or caramel,” he said, pointing at one in the middle. He looked up at Colin and grinned, his mouth covered in icing. “I like them all.”

“You should try the traditional one first,” Courtney said, cutting him a slice. “It’s yellow cake with chocolate fudge icing.” She lifted the serving knife, sliding a piece onto his plate.

Colin took a bite and let out a groan. “That’s insanely good.”

Courtney smiled. “Della had a great-aunt who lived on Smith Island. She learned how to make them from her.”

Colin took a few more bites, then picked up the serving knife Courtney had set down. He cut a generous slice of red velvet and added it to his plate.

Beside him, Luke’s eyes widened. “What kind is
that
?”

“I think it’s red velvet.” He broke off a small piece with his fingers, popping it into his mouth. “Yep,” he nodded. “With cream cheese icing.” He looked down at Luke. “You want a piece?”

Luke nodded, grabbing a new plate.

Colin started to cut another slice, then glanced up at Courtney for approval. “Is that okay?”

“You’re going to make yourself sick,” Courtney said to her son, but she nodded her consent to Colin.

Colin laid the cake on Luke’s plate. The kid was already gobbling it up with his fingers before Colin had set the knife back down on the table.

“Here,” Courtney said, wiping at Luke’s mouth with a napkin and then stuffing a few clean napkins in his pocket. “At least take a few of these with you.”

Luke finished the cake and grinned up at his mother as he wiped fingers covered in icing all over his shirt.

Courtney shook her head and sighed. “You’re hopeless,” she said, but there was a small smile twitching at the corners of her mouth.

“Luke!” Taylor ran over, holding a fistful of unlit sparklers. “Look what Uncle Joe gave me!” She pushed half of them into his hand. “He said if we light them, they’ll sparkle!”

“Cool!” Luke dropped his plate on the table and ran after her as she raced to the nearest Mason jar and dipped the first sparkler into the flame.

Colin and Courtney watched them chase each other around the yard, laughing as little bits of fire shot out of the top of the sticks. “Luke seems happy tonight,” Colin said.

Courtney nodded, but her smile faded as she turned and began tidying up the dessert table. He’d heard that she’d started leaning on some of the other mothers recently, letting them help out by watching Luke when she was at work. The kid was obviously doing a lot better, but something must still be upsetting her.

He knew she was still working two jobs. She still had permanent circles under her eyes, but despite how tired she looked, he couldn’t help noticing how much effort she’d put into her appearance tonight. She was wearing a black cocktail dress that complemented her slim frame perfectly. Her hair was swept back from her face in a simple, classy knot, and she’d even taken the time to curl a few pieces around her face.

He’d gotten used to seeing her in her work clothes—an old T-shirt and a pair of baggy sweatpants and beat-up sneakers—whenever he’d stopped by to check in on Luke, as he had a few times over the past couple weeks. But the first thing that had struck him the moment he’d walked in her door was how impeccably clean and organized her home was. The second thing that had struck him were the pictures of her with her late husband all over the house. In every shot, she’d been dressed up sharp and looking good.

She may not have come from money, but she had style and class and she obviously took pride in keeping up her both appearance and her home—when she had the time to devote to them.

Turning around to face her, an idea began to stir inside him. “You cut hair, right?”

“Yes,” she said, glancing up and giving him a brief once over. “You look like you could use a trim.”

He smiled. “I wasn’t thinking about myself. But some of the people who are going to be staying with us might need some help getting cleaned up.”

“I’m always open to taking on new clients,” she said, still tidying up the table, which really hadn’t needed any tidying up in the first place. “Just give them my number.”

“Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of you coming here, instead of them going to you.”

She glanced up. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Colin said, leaning back against the table. “Most of the people coming to stay with us have never been on a real interview before. I know at least five of them enlisted straight out of high school. They might not know how to dress, how to present themselves professionally. Will and I will be working with them on how to answer questions and build a decent resume, but we could use someone to help with shopping for clothes, finding outfits that’ll look good on them. I’m thinking mostly consignment and second hand stuff. We don’t have a big budget, but we’ve got some funds to play around with. Think you’d be interested in something like that?”

He caught the flash of interest before the shield went up. “I already have two jobs,” she said, shifting a cake platter an inch to the left that had looked perfectly fine where it had been before.

“How much do you make?”

She paused, taken aback by the bluntness of his question. “Excuse me?”

“How much do you make at the hotel?”

She straightened her shoulders, turning to face him, too proud to be embarrassed. “Eight dollars an hour.”

“We can double that.”

She blinked. “Double it?”

Colin nodded. “We’re still looking for someone to clean once a week, too, if you have any interest in that. You could pick the day, set your own hours. You’d still have plenty of time for your regular hair clients. You do most of your appointments out of your house anyway, right?”

She nodded slowly.

“We’re only a mile down the road, so it’d be an easy commute, and you could bring Luke with you whenever you came to work.” He nodded back out to the kids, who were still chasing each other around the yard. “It looks like he and Taylor get along pretty well. They could do their homework together in the evenings if you wanted to fit in a few hours of work at the end of the day.”