Roxanne Claire - Barefoot by the Sea

She didn’t take her eyes off Jocelyn to look at him. She was almost scared she’d find out that thought was wrong. Or maybe she was scared it was right.

Either way, she was scared.

Jocelyn walked across the front section of the restaurant, handing out some papers to be passed around. “In case you haven’t had a chance to do your homework on the American Association of Bridal Consultants, this will tell you what we’re dealing with and how important this weekend will be for our budding destination-wedding business. If we are selected as one of their AABC-approved resorts, that means many of the country’s wedding planners will be bringing brides for site visits and, of course, we can plan on a steady stream of destination weddings.”

A buzz of response hummed through the room as she continued. “Those weddings will fill our rooms and villas, keep our kitchen running full speed, pack the spa to capacity, lift the hot-air-balloon business to an all-time high, and kick up our entire event and catering business.” She paused to take a breath and let it all sink in. “In other words, this is the most important weekend we’ve ever had that could make or break this resort.”

The staff reacted with the appropriate cheers and claps and a barrage of questions, all so fast and furious that Jocelyn held up her hands “Hang on, troops. Lacey will answer everything when she’s off the phone.”

John leaned closer, his face so, so close to hers. “You thinking about it?”

She was certainly thinking about something. “The weekend with the wedding consultants?” she asked, trying—and failing—to keep the smile off her face. “I am, and so should you, since it’s the only reason we hired you.”

“The only reason?” He feigned a hurt look. “I thought it was my boyish charm and irresistible kisses.”

“And because we need you to cook when they’re here. Shh.” She jutted her chin toward Jocelyn. “She’s going to talk about the menu any minute.”

He moved closer, kicking up the assault of a soapy scent and a warm, comfortable hand, reminding her of how it felt on her breast, on her backside.

“Now you’re thinking about sex.”

She straightened guiltily. “Speak for yourself.”

“I am.” He drummed his fingers on her thigh, way too high, way too close to a spot that grew warmer and damper by the moment.

“Is that what you want to ask me tonight? To have sex with you?”

“Not exactly.”

Not exactly? “What does that mean?”

“It means come out with me tonight and I’ll tell you.” He slid his hand one more inch up her thigh, heat pressing through her jeans. “Please?”

“Maybe.” Who was she kidding—maybe? She was already thinking about what she’d wear: black or red undies?

As if he’d read her mind, he flicked his thumb right between her legs, making her gasp the very second things quieted down. At the next table, a nail tech in the spa shot them a curious look. Tessa tried to smile and cross her legs. Impossible.

“Of course, we were thrown a huge monkey wrench,” Jocelyn continued. “When we found out they wanted to move up their visit from next summer to later this month.”

“That’s not the only monkey wrench that hit us.” Lacey bounded into the restaurant, her eyes bright, the cell phone still clutched in her hand. “I just got walloped with one more.”

Tessa sat up, and the chatter in the room quieted down.

Lacey took a moment to cross the room, set the phone dramatically on one of the tables, and put both hands on her hips to make her announcement. “It seems that the whole site visit is now contingent on one thing.”

The entire room hushed to silence.

“We need to have a wedding that weekend.”

Instantly, John pulled his hand away and sat forward. “What?” he asked.

“I know,” Lacey replied, nodding his way. “It’ll be a challenge for the kitchen, but I promise you we’ll bring in help, Chef Brown. We’ll get a pastry professional and more hands for you in the kitchen.”

“Just what you need,” Tessa mumbled under her breath. “More hands.”

But he didn’t laugh, his attention still on Lacey. “Do we have a wedding scheduled that weekend?”

Lacey threw her hands up. “That’s the problem. We do not, nor do I have any couples that could possibly be coerced into changing their date. Unfortunately, our competition in Naples does have a wedding scheduled and the planners are considering moving their weekend visit there.”

Jocelyn stepped forward, frowning. “Why didn’t they mention this to us when they were here?”

“It came up when they met with the regional directors,” Lacey replied. “Because we are so new and untested, the directors feel that the only way they can make a real recommendation is if they witness a ceremony, sample a wedding dinner, and assess how we handle logistics, decor, staffing, everything.”

“That’s crazy,” Tessa said. “We can’t pull off a wedding in two weeks.”

A few disappointed moans of agreement traveled through the room, then the nail tech at the next table called out, “Zoe! It’s your time.”

“Yeah, Zoe!” A few others agreed. “You’re engaged.”

“Move your date up with Oliver!”

“Can it,” Zoe said, standing up from her seat in the front to turn and face her colleagues. Rubbing her small but distinctive baby bump, she shook her head. “I’m not walking down the aisle until my baby of honor can be there.” When Jocelyn and Lacey gave her pleading looks, Zoe shook her head. “Oliver and I agreed, and there’s no way I’m throwing my one and only wedding together in two weeks, sorry.”

“So what do we do?” someone asked, giving voice to the question on everyone’s mind.

Next to her, John’s body language had changed as he leaned forward, his torso tight, his jaw set. He must realize how important this weekend is, Tessa thought with a rush of affection.

Lacey sighed audibly. “She did tell me we could back out and maybe get rescheduled for next year, but this is the end of her tenure as president, so there’s no telling where the next board will want to go. So I guess we have to—”

“Have a wedding.” John pushed back and stood so fast his chair toppled.

Everyone in the room turned to him, and Tessa drew back an inch, that affection soaring now. He really, really cared about the resort.

“Suggestions are welcome,” Lacey said. “You have any ideas?”

“Yes.” A slow, broad smile broke over his face, turning it from merely handsome to unspeakably hot. And then he looked down at Tessa, expectantly. “I have a capital idea.”

A capital idea? The foreign-sounding phrase was the least of the things that sent a blast of heat through her. The warmth in his eyes, the certainty, the overwhelming sense that he meant…

No, no, no. That was her overactive imagination at work.

“A perfect solution,” he continued, kind of shaking his head like whatever idea had just occurred to him was too good to even be contained there.“It’s the answer to everything.”

The entire room stared at him, including Tessa.

Very, very slowly, he lowered himself, bypassing the toppled chair and landing right on—one knee.

The whole room drew in one loud, collective gasp, but not Tessa. Gasping would require breathing, which, right then, was physically impossible.

“You’ll marry me,” he said.

Not a question, not a joke, and not a fantasy.

“Are you out of your mind?” she whispered.

Someone squeaked—Zoe, no doubt—and a few people hooted and somebody else shouted “Say yes!” but mostly the room tilted so far off center Tessa thought her own chair might topple with her in it.

“You’ll marry me,” he repeated, still on one knee, as if those three words made any sense at all.

He took her hand and looked right into her eyes, his voice barely audible over the room noise and the thunder of blood in her ears. “You know it’s going to happen. It’s inevitable.”

Inevitable? “It is?” Her voice cracked again.

“What do you think I was going to ask you tonight?”

Her jaw dropped, but he pulled her right into him and kissed her, and the whole room, along with Tessa’s head, exploded.

Ian could taste the shock in her mouth. Shock and mint and raw confusion sparking in her open lips that didn’t exactly respond to his. Unless her response was to tense every muscle and use all her power to whip away. But he held her firmly and kissed her solidly until the noise in the room and the buzzing in his head abated.

The answer had been handed to him and he wanted a celebratory kiss.

Finally, he let her win and pop backwards, her mouth still hanging open in disbelief. “What the—”

“It’s for the resort,” he insisted in a whisper.

“No, I wo—”

He put his fingers on her lips, still warm and so soft. “Don’t say no.”

She blinked at him. “No.”

“No, you won’t consider it, or no, you give the idea a chance?”

“Are you nuts?”

He grinned. “Do I have to state the obvious? I’m nuts about you.”

Behind him, he was aware that Lacey had walked over to the table and he had no doubt the other two in Tessa’s entourage would be here in a moment. The question was, Would her friends be on his side, or the sane side?

He had to move fast. “Tessa, give me a chance.”

“A chance? You’re asking for…”

“You don’t mean a real wedding?” Lacey asked from behind him.

Tessa looked up at her, relief and gratitude on her face. “I’m sure he doesn’t.”

“Of course I…” He finally got up from his knee, taking the chair someone had righted for him, scrambling for the best strategy. “Don’t,” he finished.