The Christmas Backup Plan, page 16
Once they were on the sidewalk, Remington pulled her aside out of the flow of Christmas shoppers. “Those two have a sick kid in another town. You need a backup plan.”
“We’ve been over this. You do backup plans. I keep my options open.”
“That’s a crazy way to live. Olivia is your best friend, and she’s counting on you to make this wedding happen.”
“Chill out, dude. Caitlyn and Gideon are super responsible, and they’ve got everything ready to go. It’s simply a matter of trucking everything over to the convention center and decorating the ballroom. No biggie for professionals like the Garzas. Trust me.”
“I’m sure they are dependable, but shi—stuff happens. And their son is sick.”
“It sounds like a minor illness. Most likely just a bad cold or the flu.”
“People die of the flu.”
“Elderly people or people with compromised immune systems. Not healthy eighteen-year-old boys. You’re overreacting.”
“You’re underreacting, Aria. If this wedding goes south—”
Why was he getting so testy? “Look, I appreciate you taking up for me in there. That was nice of you, but this is my business, and Vivi is the only one I have to answer to. I trust the Garzas to come through.”
“You trust too easily.” He shook his head vigorously.
“You distrust too much. I’ve found people live up to your expectation of them. If you expect them to do what they say, then they will.”
Remington rolled his eyes hard. “Oh Lord, that is a cockamamie attitude.”
“Yes, we’ve already established you think I’m a frivolous, harebrained idiot.”
He expelled a long sigh. “I don’t think that about you. You’re just naive. You’ve had a safe, good life. And you have no clue how dark things can get out there in the world. I’m glad that you don’t know, and I want you to keep your faith in people. But you need someone to protect you.”
“Oh, and you’re that guy?”
“Yes. Get a backup plan for tomorrow, Aria. Trust me on this.”
“What irony! The most distrustful man this side of the Mississippi asking me to trust him.”
“Fine.” He dusted his palms together. “Have it your way. But don’t come crawling to me when things fall apart.”
“I won’t.”
“Good.”
“Terrific.”
“Perfect.”
“Unlike you, I believe in people.”
“We’ll see how far that takes you.”
They stood staring at each other there on the cobblestone sidewalk, foot traffic flowing around them, and Aria had the most profound urge to kiss him. But she wouldn’t. Not ever again. What they’d shared was road trip sex, and that was it. No dreaming or fantasizing about what if?
“Where to now?” he asked, the muscle at his jaw twitching.
“Caterer, photographer, and DJ.” She ticked the tasks on her fingers. “Then the convention center ballroom for rehearsal and it’s off to dinner after that.”
“Do you need me for those things?”
“Yes,” she said. “I do. You were just going on about how I need protection. Who’ll walk me back to the B and B after dinner?”
“You’ve got plenty of friends in this town. Ask one of them.”
“What’s the matter, Remington? Don’t you want to be with me?”
“It’s not you.” He waved a hand at the Christmas overload around them—sights, sounds, smells. “It’s this place. Too damn cheery by half.”
“That’s why you need to tough it out,” she said, slipping her arm through his. She was pleased when he didn’t pull away. She learned that when he got cranky, it was usually because he was having feelings he didn’t want to deal with. “Get you over your Christmas hang-up.”
“I don’t have a Christmas hang-up.”
“But you do, Remy. Oh, but you do.”
“What can I say? I’m a hopeless case, Alzate. Accept it.”
“Good thing for you that I have enough hope for both of us. I intend on showing you the joy of Christmas.”
“Yeah?” He looked amused by that. “How?”
“I don’t give away my secrets.” She tossed her head and sashayed away, leaving Remington running to catch up with her.
Ha!
She had him right where she wanted him.
Intrigued.
Chapter 16
Blast: Slang for a parachute jump.
Backup plan.
The woman needed a backup plan.
Why was she so stubborn about having one? From the way she resisted, you’d think contingency planning was toxic.
From the minute they arrived in the ballroom at the Twilight Convention Center overlooking Lake Twilight, worry bit into Remington hard. The place was large and open with a bunch of round tables and chairs. It looked like the kind of place you held business conferences, not weddings.
“Can you just see it?” Aria swept her hand in a panoramic gesture. “The lake in the background, the altar set up over there. Twinkling curtain lights hung from the ceilings. Flowers everywhere. It will be gorgeous!”
It sounded good, if things went off without a hitch. But if the Garzas didn’t fulfill their duties, Aria would be left with a mess on her hands. It would take at least six hours to transform this dull space into a wedding venue, double that if it was just Caitlyn and Gideon doing the work.
He would not voice his concerns to Aria though. She’d made it clear she didn’t appreciate his opinion on the subject. Fine. Let her deal with the consequences if things fell apart. That’s how she would learn.
Yeah, that sounded nice, but no matter how hard-assed he might claim to be, he couldn’t help worrying. He thought about texting Vivi, but that was going over Aria’s head and he didn’t want to pull rank on her.
She introduced him to the bride and groom, Olivia Schebly and Ben Mallory and, Ben’s cousin, Roger, who was the best man. Roger had also gone to Sul Ross with Olivia and Aria. He’d been the one to play matchmaker between his college friend and his cousin, Ben.
Then Roger introduced everyone to his partner, Gary.
Aria got everything going, positioning people where they were supposed to be. Remington stepped over to the side to watch her work, keeping his back to the wall as he surveyed the group rehearsing the wedding.
She had so much energy, bopping from one group to the next, that bright and cheery smile forever on her face. He loved how expressive she was. How she gestured with her hands and used her body to emote. She was so free. So comfortable in her own skin.
He envied her.
She seemed to fit wherever she went, as if she’d never in her life met a stranger. She had a buoyant way of looking at the world that boosted the spirits of everyone around her. They all liked her. But who wouldn’t? She was captivating. A real showstopper.
The world seemed to revolve around her, and he’d somehow gotten caught up in her orbit and, to his shock, Remington realized he liked it.
A lot.
Being around her felt like wearing a warm coat during a cold winter storm. Or the deep play of children engrossed in a game of tag. Or driving a red Ferrari on a racetrack as fast as it would go. She was a cold drink of water on a hot summer day and he was thirsty as hell. She was a magical place outside the confines of everyday life.
Aww, shit.
He was obsessed with her.
Knew it. Feared it. But he did not understand how he’d gotten here or how to get away.
“Hey there, soldier,” she murmured, coming over to take his arm. “What’s on your mind? You were a thousand miles away. I called your name twice.”
“What?” He blinked at her, inhaling her feminine fragrance.
“Everyone’s leaving.”
“Oh.” He stared at the people departing out the main door. “You’re done?”
“Yes.”
Her smile undid him in a dozen different ways. It cut him from his moorings and set him adrift on uncertainty.
“We’re all going to the Funny Farm.”
“The what?”
“It’s a restaurant. You’ll love it. C’mon.”
Ten minutes later, the wedding party assembled in the roped-off street of the town square in front of a family-style restaurant that did not take reservations, but you could go on the list for cattle call seating.
They were on the list for six p.m.
“They have group seating,” Aria explained. “Every two hours. You miss one seating, wait two hours for the next one. You only have two hours to eat as well. Once the bell rings, you’re out if you’re in or in if you’re out until they reach the fire code max.”
“Weird dining concept,” he said.
“The restaurant is so popular, it’s the only way they can control the crowds without resorting to reservations. They want to keep the restaurant democratic.”
“So, we all stand out here until—”
“Six o’clock.” She bobbed her head.
Just as she said that, a hostess in a yellow gingham dress and old-fashioned bib apron rang a large dinner bell mounted on the streetlamp outside the restaurant as if she were calling in field hands. Everyone lined up in an orderly fashion.
The doors opened and guests strolled out, some patting their full bellies, others shifting toothpicks in their mouths, all of them with satisfied grins on their faces. Once the last guest had left, a waitstaff in uniforms designed to look like straitjackets opened the double doors and waved their group inside.
The crowd flowed in, and as people went by the waitstaff passed out plastic cards color coded with seat assignments.
“How many in your party?” an auburn-haired young woman asked Aria.
Quickly, Aria counted heads. “Sixteen.”
She handed Aria sixteen cards with Holstein cattle printed on them. “You’re in the dairy.”
“Thanks,” Aria said, raising her voice and the cards over her head. “Everyone in our group, follow me!”
Inside, Remington saw old farming equipment covered the walls and shelves—a horse-drawn plow, an old milk churn, pitchforks. Aria led them into the back of the restaurant to a room decorated in black-and-white and everything dairy cow—milking machines, milking stools, murals of Holstein cows and calves on the wall.
Once everyone was assembled, she guided them to their seats, the perfect hostess. She positioned herself and Remington at the far end of the table, leaving the middle for the bride and groom and their parents.
The group tittered about how fun the restaurant was and praised Aria for choosing it. She blushed prettily, thanked them, and waved over a waitress to start their order. When she had everyone settled, she sat down next to Remington.
“Fried green tomatoes are on the menu tonight,” the waitress said. “It’s one of our specialties. Should I order several rounds for the table?”
“Yes.” Aria nodded. “And four plates of jalapeño poppers too.”
“Are you picking up the tab?” Remington asked.
“I’ve got a budget,” Aria said. “I’ll take care of the check from that. My job is to make sure everything is stress-free for Olivia and Ben.”
“It’s going smoothly so far,” he said.
“And look.” She held up both palms. “No backup plan.”
“You’re tempting fate.”
“Why, Remington Lockhart, are you superstitious?” She cocked her head and gave him a teasing grin.
He was so aware of her—her graceful body, her cinnamon and vanilla scent, the soft fall of her hair over her shoulders. He thought about that night in Armadillo when they’d made love while an ice storm raged outside their window and he felt a stab of yearning deep in the dead center of his chest. Felt a burning sensation roll all the way down below his belt.
Remington gulped, and fought his body’s reaction. Beside him, she crossed her legs and her thigh bumped against his.
Whoa!
Quickly, she uncrossed her legs and glanced away. Reached for her silverware bundle and unrolled it. She leaned toward Gary, who was sitting to her left, and stirred up a conversation with him.
Leaving Remington suddenly aware of the draft blowing against the windowpane behind him.
Aria, the queen of making people feel at ease, posed questions, going around the table asking the couples how they’d met. It seemed everyone had lucked into great relationships, a rarity in Remington’s experience.
“So, what’s your secret?” Aria asked Olivia’s parents, Mayor Schebly and his wife, Tammy. “What makes love last thirty years?”
The mayor and his wife exchanged admiring glances and said in unison, “Finding the right one.”
Couple after couple had “meet cute” stories and their secret for long-term success, most with a common theme—you had to find the right person. As they passed the conversation around, Remington realized that he and Aria were the only ones at the table not in a relationship.
She got up and started taking pictures. She motioned for people to lean in together to get everyone in the shot and had them saying “Limburger.” The groups laughed and teased, ordered more wine, and made toasts.
Remington watched as if from a great distance. He was an outsider here. The interloper.
A familiar position.
Even though he came from the wealthiest ranching family in Jeff Davis County, he’d always had this underlying feeling that he didn’t really belong. Perhaps it was his birth position as the third of the first four Lockhart brothers. Perhaps it was because he lost his mother when he was young, but not so young that he couldn’t remember her. Perhaps it was being raised by a narcissistic single dad. Perhaps a combination of all three.
But he’d battled the feeling for so long that no one would even notice if he was gone. It was all he could do not to slip away.
This pervasive feeling of not belonging was why he’d gone into the military. Looking for something, he supposed. Even though he loved ranching, no one really noticed his contributions to the family. Ridge, his headstrong, illegitimate half brother, was the one who got their father’s attention, but mainly because Ridge and Duke butted heads constantly.
Ranger, his second half brother from yet another mother, had scarlet fever as a kid and Remington’s mother, Lucy, hovered over him as if he was made of fragile glass. Fact: Remington had been jealous of Ranger, who got to spend a good chunk of his childhood in bed, playing video games, reading books, and staring through his telescope at the stars in the darkest night sky in the country. Lucy felt sorry for Ranger, whose mother had taken a big chunk of Duke’s money to walk away from her son and not look back, and Lucy, kindhearted as she was, went overboard to make Ranger and Ridge feel wanted.
And then there was Rhett, Remington’s younger brother, the charmer who’d winnowed everyone’s attention from Remington with his spirited antics, especially after their mother died.
Yep, Remington had had to leave the Trans-Pecos to find himself.
He stared down at his left hand resting in his lap. Thought about last night’s art class and the drawing he’d done of it. The identity he’d found in the Army was gone now, and he was back where he started.
The square peg in the round hole.
Restlessness pushed at him. Where did he go from here? What was he going to do with the rest of his life? Would he ever find a place where he belonged as he had as a paratrooper?
People kept toasting, first Olivia and Ben, and the bride’s parents, and then the groom’s parents, and on and on around the table.
Remington, who wasn’t a big drinker, went on automatic pilot, raising his glass with everyone else and pretending to drink. He’d zoned out a little. He didn’t know these people, and so when the entire room fell silent, it was only then that he snapped to attention.
Everyone was staring at him.
He forced a smile. Um, what the hell? What had he missed?
“To Remington,” they said in unison and raised their glasses. “Thank you for bringing Aria to us safe and sound!”
They clinked their glasses as people echoed, “To Remington.”
Ugh, now that the spotlight was on him, he didn’t like it. Not one bit.
“To Aria,” he blurted, eager to shift the attention back to her. “The most accomplished wedding planner who flies by the seat of her pants without a backup plan.”
The second the words were out of his mouth, Remington knew they were inappropriate from the uneasy glances on people’s faces.
Olivia’s eyes rounded as she shifted her gaze to Aria. “You do have backup plans in place, right? In case something goes wrong.”
“Everything will be fine,” Aria soothed. “Remington’s such a worrywart.” She threw him a look that said, thanks oh so much for throwing me under the bus, and he felt terrible. “I’ve double- and triple-checked everything. No need to worry, Olivia. You leave all that to me.”
Olivia’s bright smile was back. “I trust you, Aria. You’re my best friend and I know you’d never let me down.”
The conversation swung to other things, and Remington vowed to keep his big mouth shut for the rest of the evening.
See? So you don’t fit in. You don’t know how to keep your size thirteen boots out of your mouth.
The dinner bell rang, signaling that the meal was officially over.
“Before we go, everyone, I have one last event planned for those who are up for it,” Aria announced.
“A surprise event?” Olivia beamed and clapped her hands. “Oh yay! I’m so excited.”
“What is it?” Ben asked.
“A moonlight boat cruise. I talked Joel MacGregor into reserving us a spot tonight on the Brazos Queen. It’s my wedding gift to Olivia and Ben.”
There were oohs and aahs and thank-yous, and everyone took Aria up on her offer. Aria took care of the restaurant bill, and when Remington moved to help her on with her coat, she looked surprised, but pleased.
“How are you affording this excursion?” Remington whispered. “A boat cruise for sixteen can’t be cheap.”
“Olivia is one of my best friends, and . . .” She gave him a sly little grin. “It didn’t cost me anything.”
