Picture Perfect Wedding (5 page)

As his gaze came to the end of the row of salads, he saw the pig on the spit. Now that was more like it. He picked up a plate and was making a beeline for the chef when he heard someone call his name. He spun around to find Nicole hurrying toward him.

“You’re here,” she said, looking relieved.

“Hey, Nicole. This looks like it’s all going well.”

She smiled, taking in the scene with a practiced eye. “A lot of work goes into making something like this feel casual and effortless while at the same time providing food and drink for two hundred people.”

“You’ve done it well. It suits Lindsay and Keith perfectly and—” he tilted his head to the twirling couple on the temporary dance floor, “—they’re having a fabulous time.”

“Thanks.” Nicole’s face flushed with pleasure. “It’s great to be able to give people exactly what they want for their wedding. You know, to make it a special day they’ll remember forever.”

It wasn’t something he’d ever given much thought. “I imagine it is.”

“Do you remember how the whole town pulled together to put on Bridey Callahan’s wedding at such short notice because we knew it would put Whitetail on the map?”

“Hmm.” He nodded, agreeing automatically because most of his mind was on the fact that the staff looked like they were starting to clear the food away for desserts and he didn’t want to miss out on the spit roast.

Nicole kept talking. “Here we are a year later and things are going well but we can’t rest on our laurels, Luke. We need brides in three states to know we’re here and we can offer them something unique. You’ve always been supportive, right from the start and...”

Something in her voice pulled his concentration away from the thought of succulent pork and back to her. “And?”

She gave her hesitant smile. “We’ve had a request from a bride to use your sunflower field for photos.”

He stilled, half irritated and half impressed at the photographer’s doggedness. “Did Erin Davis ask you to ask me?”

Nicole’s smile became wry. “No, not at all. In fact she asked me for the names of other farmers with sunflower fields, but we both know you’re the only one. I don’t understand why you told her no when you and your family have always been so supportive of the town. Is there any way you could change your mind?”

He opened his mouth to say
when hell freezes over.
He had enough on his plate with every passing day, making the farm feel more and more like a thankless chore, without adding in a bride who sounded decidedly unhinged, and not to mention that being around Erin Davis made him feel like he had an itch that no amount of scratching would ease. That on its own made absolutely no sense to him and added even more to his current sense of disconnection to his life. Only he couldn’t say any of that to Nicole without sounding like a jerk. Her husband, Bradley, had died in active duty, killed serving his country and defending the rights of freedom. Now the sacrifice was borne by Nicole as she raised their little boy alone.

Luke’s sigh came up from his feet, dragging through him and leaving him in no doubt that he couldn’t refuse Nicole. Her life had been turned upside down and somehow she managed to get up each morning and put one foot in front of the other despite her grief. As much as he hated the idea, he knew he could put up with
one
bride.

That means Erin too.

Crap.
He’d make sure he wasn’t anywhere near the sunflower field that day. In fact, he might just go fishing.

“Luke?” Expectation shone on Nicole’s face.

He ran his hands through his hair and went for damage control. “Only if I deal direct with you. I don’t want to have anything to do with crazy brides or photographers with purse dogs who bite.”

A startled expression crossed her face. “A purse dog?”

He shook his head. “Don’t ask.”

“I’m sure both the bride and Erin will be more than happy to liaise through me. Thank you, Luke. It means a lot.”

And he knew it did, because even he’d noticed that when Nicole was working on a wedding she looked less drawn and sad, and the town could breathe again.

She consulted her watch and went straight into wedding planner mode. “Now it’s time for your speech. There’s a microphone on the table next to the cakes, along with a glass of champagne for you to use when you give the toast. Are you ready?”

He threw a longing glance at the chef who was closing the spit-roast lid over the remains of the pig and he realized he’d just missed his chance at lunch. “Point me in the right direction.”

Although Lindsay had wanted the day to be informal, Keith had insisted on one speech and he’d asked Luke to give it. As he picked up the microphone, the trumpeter in the band played a long, loud riff which silenced everyone and expectant faces turned to him.

“I think it’s safe to say that everyone here today had given up on this day ever happening. We know that Keith lost all his hair waiting for Lindsay to say yes.”

Loud cheers erupted.

“In typical Lindsay and Keith style they’ve chosen to share their day with us all, just as they share their produce and their time. Whitetail wouldn’t be the same without their theme movie nights—”

Keith leaned into the microphone. “The next one’s a fifties night on Saturday the tenth so put it on your schedule now.”

More cheers went up and Luke laughed. “You’re supposed to be concentrating on your wife.”

“Have you seen the zucchini groom’s cake?” a slightly slurred voice called out. “She’s gonna be the one concentrating.”

Lindsay peered into the crowd. “Douglas Peterson, it’s time to start drinking water because I expect you to be on the farm tomorrow at dawn, fresh and ready to pick the beans.”

The young man hung his head slightly. “Yes, ma’am.”

Luke decided at that point to ditch the bulk of his speech and move onto the toast. He raised his glass to the crowd. “Please join me in wishing Lindsay and Keith all the very best. May their lives together be fruitful—” he paused for the expected collective groan at the play on words and was rewarded, “—and may they find joy and peace as they move forward together united by their love and shared goals for the future. To Lindsay and Keith.”

“To Lindsay and Keith.”

Wolf whistles pierced the air as Keith dipped Lindsay in his arms and gave her an enthusiastic kiss on the lips.

Luke found himself taking a long gulp of champagne as he noticed lots of couples in the crowd sharing a kiss. Nothing like a wedding to remind people of the vows they’d made to each other or were going to make. For five years, Luke had been giving speeches at weddings as his friends had one by one settled down and usually at this point he sat back filled with relief that it wasn’t him and absolutely content with his single status. Only today, he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that he was the one missing out on something—something he couldn’t even put his finger on.

Lindsay and Keith made their way to the table to cut the simple wedding cake, which was decorated with their luscious strawberries. At first he thought sunshine was reflecting off the ornate silver knife but as they plunged it into the cake and Lindsay bent her head down to kiss Keith, he heard a very familiar voice say, “Perfect.”

His head jerked around so fast it hurt. Erin Davis was kneeling on the ground with her camera tilted upward, capturing the traditionally iconic moment at a very untraditional wedding.

Dressed remarkably unobtrusively given her usual explosion of color, she wore black pants, a black silk blouse and ballet flats. She could have easily been mistaken for one of the waitstaff from the Silver Birch Supper Club, which is probably why he hadn’t noticed her. But he was noticing her now. His mind instantly pictured black lace. Lace he knew nestled under a deceptively simple black camisole which the sheer silk skated over. Every movement of the material teased the eye, and there was a lot of movement as she continuously adjusted her position and her camera to capture the moment. Every part of her was completely focused on the bride and groom.

He realized he was staring and tore his gaze away. What the hell was wrong with him? He was at a wedding, surrounded by women so there was absolutely no reason for him to be mentally undressing Erin Davis, especially when she was wearing more clothes than most of the female guests. He turned toward the champagne-and-strawberries group of women who were well primed and ready for a good time. Surely one of them was from out of town and ready to be physically undressed. The time had come for him to get his game on and douse this crazy reaction to an equally crazy photographer.

He stopped a waiter, relieved him of his tray of drinks and then strode over to the group with a wide smile on his face. “Ladies, so sorry to have kept you waiting.”

Chapter Four

“Thanks for starting, Wade.” Buzzed with champagne and wedding cake, along with the promise of an evening with Marlene from Madison, who he had plans to meet at the Udder Bar, Luke was seriously late for afternoon milking. He’d given Brett the night off milking so he could enjoy the after-wedding party, which had already started and would probably continue until midnight.

“No problem,” Wade said. “It’s good to keep my hand in but I can only stay an hour because the B and B’s full tonight. I’m loving this wedding-business idea and my business is benefiting.” He deftly attached the milking machine to a cow’s udder. “I’m guessing my cleaner didn’t show?”

“No.” Luke blocked the recalcitrant memory of Erin which instantly popped into his head at the mention of the cleaner and he immediately changed the subject to block the thought. “How was the antiques fair?”

Wade’s eyes lit up. “I bought a beautiful Victorian chair for the honeymoon suite.”

Luke smiled. Wade loved antique furniture and cooking, but with his beefy build and utilitarian clothing, people often thought at first glance that he was the farmer. Luke enjoyed the incongruity. “Are you sure you want a valuable chair in a honeymoon suite? It might get used for more than sitting in.”

“Furniture should be used and it’s good to know that at least there are people out there getting some, unlike the two Anderson brothers.” Wade gave a wry smile. “Did you meet anyone at the wedding?”

“A Marlene,” he said quickly against the image of Erin’s compact body in black silk and lace which hovered on the edge of his mind. “I’m going to meet her later.” It had taken Luke a few years to feel comfortable asking Wade about his love life, but with maturity came perspective and as long as Wade didn’t give him any details or ask him to match-make, he could cope. “What about you? Did you meet any like-minded guys at the fair?”

Wade sighed. “Only gay couples and women, and then it was time to come home.”

“Do you ever think of leaving Whitetail?”

Wade paused, his hand on the release bar of the gate. The front cow mooed indignantly, cross at being held up from leaving the parlor and reentering the barn where more food waited. He pulled the gate open with a laugh. “Only if I win the lottery.”

Luke thought of Axel’s text. He opened his mouth to say, “What if the farm was the lottery?” but closed it again because this discussion needed to happen with both his siblings present. He’d call Keri tonight and ask her to come up next weekend.

The radio blared with Lady Gaga, and to the tune of Wade’s off-key singing, they fell into a companionable rhythm of milking. Luke joined in when the golden oldie “Blueberry Hill” came on, singing the bass to Wade’s wobbly tenor and generally hamming it up. He hit the low note at the same time he was slapping the rump of the most stubborn Holstein of the herd, trying to get her to move forward.

Wade stopped singing midline. “Luke.” He tilted his head to the door.

Luke turned and caught a glimpse of black rubber boots decorated with hot-pink umbrellas—boots the likes of which the milking parlor had never seen. Boots so bright they made him squint. He raised his gaze, running it over the pink-rimmed top of the boot, along bare knees and smooth, tanned thighs to the cuffs of black denim cutoffs, until it met a pair of manicured hands pressed firmly on hips. Hands he recognized instantly because they’d gripped his yesterday.

Erin stood on the top step that led down into the milking parlor and she didn’t look happy. In fact, Ms. “Country Hospitality” looked decidedly pissed. Given that he’d said yes to the sunflower field, and Nicole as the go-between would have told her that, she should have been smiling all the way.

“Nice boots. Why are they here?” He gave Gertie another push. “I told Nicole I’d allow the photos but everything has to go through her.”

“I’m not here about the photos.” Erin stomped forward, her shiny new boots hitting the first trace of muck but it didn’t stall her progress any as she bore down on him with her green eyes flashing.

Her index finger sliced the air. “You! You know how to use a napkin. Your dog doesn’t eat off fine bone china and your mother never ate her meals at the kitchen counter, did she?”

Damn.
Of course she’d heard him speak at the wedding. One small speech had blown last night’s stellar performance into a thousand pieces. He shrugged. “I’m sure there were times when she did.”

Wade looked between the two of them and burst into laughter. “Mom eating at the kitchen counter? Now there’s a sight I can’t imagine. The only person I remember eating there was Luke when he was asked to leave the table due to some table manner infractions.”

Erin hit Luke with a sarcastic glare. “So that would be last week, then.”

“Why use a napkin when you’ve got a sleeve?” he said, attempting to salvage something from last night’s performance.

“As you so ably demonstrated last night when you were eating
my
beautiful meal and making a fool out of me.” Her arms shot across her chest, pushing her breasts forward.

Luke overrode the slither of guilt that caught him under his ribs that he’d played her, and tried not to look at her breasts. Instead he reminded himself exactly how annoying she really was and how he didn’t have anything to feel guilty about. “I recall the meal was both an apology for your mutt’s bad manners and a thank-you to me for pulling your car out of the bog. Your little escapade derailed my entire afternoon and if you felt like a fool, then the onus lies at your feet, not mine.”

“Oh, that’s rich.” Her arms flew up into the air and her bobbed hair swung around her face. “You took advantage of my good nature and you know it.”

He was having none of that. “It was the other way around. You used food and wine to soften me up so I’d say yes to the sunflower field.”

Her chin shot up but not before he caught a flicker of something close to the guilt he’d experienced himself. “I was being nice.” Her voice rose with indignation.

“Lady, you were playing me, so don’t come here acting all hurt and innocent and chew me out.”

Confusion worried at Wade’s forehead. “A guy takes one night off and it seems a lot happens here, little brother? Fill me in.”

Luke loved Wade dearly but sometimes family didn’t help his cause. With a sigh he said, “Erin Davis, this is my brother, Wade. Erin’s a wedding photographer.”
And as aggravating as hell.

Erin immediately extended her hand toward Wade and then tensed. Luke caught the moment she realized exactly where Wade’s hands had been, but to his surprise, she didn’t pull back.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Erin said.

Wade waved at her. “I’ll shake your hand after I’ve washed mine.”

Erin gave Wade a wide and grateful smile. “Are you the brother who owns the B and B?”

“And cottages. That’s me.” He shot a questioning look at Luke as if to say,
and she knows this how?

He grudgingly admitted, “I mistook Erin for your cleaner.”

Wade’s wide shoulders rocked as he hooted with laughter.

Luke blew out a frustrated breath. “What’s so funny? She could have been.”

Erin nodded. “He’s right, I could have been.”

Luke instantly stilled and studied her face. Two minutes ago Erin Davis had been ready to take his head off and now she was agreeing with him? Something was very wrong with this picture.

Her hands opened in front of her. “Apparently, Whitetail is short a wedding photographer. Today I shot the Leiderman wedding and tomorrow Nicole’s set up appointments with other brides who may wish to use my services. As it’s a six-hour round trip from Minneapolis, I was wondering—”

“The cottages and B and B are booked solid this time of year,” Luke interjected loudly, shooting his brother a look he hoped Wade would read as
not in this lifetime are you letting her stay.
The last thing he needed was Erin Davis on the farm, even if the cottages were a good mile away from the farmhouse.

Wade frowned at him before asking Erin, “Do you need accommodation?”

She shook her head. “No. I’ve got a room at the motel.”

Relief dribbled through Luke.
Lucky save.
She’d come to the farm to yell at him and redeem her pride—end of story. He had to admit that on one level he’d got some entertainment from sparring with her so he’d let her yell some more and then she’d happily leave.

“Has your cleaner arrived yet?” Erin’s entire focus was centered on Wade, but there was something about the turn of her mouth that made Luke tense.

“No, and she isn’t coming.” Wade rubbed his chin and sighed. “Apparently, on the four-hour drive from La Crosse she met a guy in a diner and decided to take the waitressing job on offer. I need someone local but during summer wedding season, most everyone’s working in town.”

Erin tucked her hair behind her ears, which unlike her nose were small with a delectable curve. Luke hated that he’d even noticed.

She smiled again. “I might be interested in the job.”

“No.” The word shot out of Luke’s mouth hard and fast as his general unease morphed into panic. “You’re a photographer, not a cleaner.”

Her shoulders rolled back and she seemed to stand a little taller than her five feet four inches. “Right now I’m a photographer and a waitress. I could just as easily be a photographer and a cleaner.”

“With those nails?” he muttered.

Her nostrils flared and she hooked his gaze with a withering look. “I’ll do anything when I’m wearing rubber gloves, including burying dead bodies.”

An image of her wearing a skimpy black-and-white French maid’s outfit complete with pink rubber gloves socked into him, making him hot, bothered and hard.

Shit.
What was it about this woman that had him acting like a horny seventeen-year-old? He didn’t like it and he wanted it to stop.

“Thanks so much for stopping by,” he said sarcastically. “Don’t bother doing it again.” He turned back to the milking, rescuing a set of cups that a cow had just kicked off before she trampled them.

He heard Wade’s voice behind him. “Erin, do you want a part-time cleaning job while you’re in town?”

“Wade!” Luke swung around, not able to believe his brother had just offered her a job.

“What?” Wade looked defensive. “You know how hard it is to find staff and if Erin’s offering, I’ll take it, even if it is only for a few days.”

He knew how stubborn Wade could be, so short of saying
I
don’t want her on the farm
, which he knew would sound deranged and would prompt even more questions, he tried another approach. “Don’t let looks deceive you. She travels with a killer dog that bites so think of your guests.”

“Really?” For the first time Wade looked uneasy. “You have a pit bull?”

Luke couldn’t stop his snort.

Erin rolled her eyes. “I have a very friendly Maltese–Shih Tzu cross which your brother believes doesn’t qualify as a dog.”

Wade’s face brightened immediately. “Oh, ignore him. Farmers have this thing about dogs being all about work, not pets.”

Who needs enemies when you have family?
“Mac is both,” he ground out. “He earns his place unlike that pampered inbred.”

Erin gave him a sweet smile similar to that of a crocodile. “So Mac’s a working dog who isn’t pampered even though he has a bed on the sunniest side of the porch rather than being chained up in the yard?”

Damn it
, the woman had eagle eyes and a memory like an elephant. “He works hard. He earns that.”

Wade grinned at Erin as if he wanted to give her a high five. “I’m looking forward to meeting your little guy.”

“Her name’s Maggie-May. She’s a good judge of character and can detect sincerity at fifty feet.” She threw a derisive look at Luke before turning back to Wade. “I’m sure she’ll lick
you
to death.”

Wade said, “Oh, sweet. Actually, I’ve been thinking of getting a little dog for some company but you can see what I’m up against.”

Erin nodded sympathetically. “Maggie-May’s fabulous company. Spend as much time with her as you like over the next few days so you can get a feel for the breed.”

“Wear steel-cap boots and gaiters,” Luke said caustically, incensed that his brother had just cast him as the bad guy when he never commented on Wade’s life choices. Hell, he’d only given his opinion on a lap dog because Wade had asked.

“Erin, I feel bad that you’re staying at the motel,” Wade said. “The job does come with a small two-room cottage. It isn’t anything fancy and it needs some work but it’s functional.”

“There’s no point in her moving into the cottage for a few days,” Luke countered, feeling himself being sucked into quicksand and the situation fast spinning out of his control.

Wade waved away Luke’s words. “How about we agree to this? As long as you clean the cottage when you leave, it’s yours for as long as you stay?”

Luke groaned.

Erin leaned in and gave Wade a hug. “
You’re
lovely, thank you.”

The pointed reference wasn’t lost on Luke but as he couldn’t care less what she thought of him, he put his general feeling of resentment down to the fact that despite his best efforts, Erin Davis was going to be staying on the farm. “Just keep your dog away from my cows.”

Bertha, one of his best milkers, chose that moment to drop a load and Erin shuddered. “Believe me, neither Maggie-May or I will be coming within a bull’s roar of you or your cows.”

Perfect.
“Good to know.” He glanced at the clock. “Now, as neither of you are any help to me, go talk about your business arrangement elsewhere and let me finish up.”

Wade slipped his arm under Erin’s elbow and said conspiratorially, “He’s got a date. First one in a while.”

What the...?
So help him, he was going to kill Wade.

Erin nodded slowly as her face filled with thoughtful consideration although her eyes danced with fun. “Dating can be scary, Luke, and no one likes being rejected. Given how we both know you have a serious problem with general etiquette, I recommend you shower off the cow manure, use deodorant and remember to chew with your mouth closed.”