A Proposal at the Wedding. Gina Wilkins

see how it might be intimidating for an outsider to try to make a place for herself in that cozy arrangement. Was there a woman in Paul’s life now? She could think of no subtle way to ask.

      She really had been too narrowly focused on the inn for the past few years, she thought ruefully. It would be three years in October since she and her brother and sister had inherited the place from their late, maternal great-uncle, and the first of November would mark their second anniversary of reopening to guests after a year of renovations. Those three years had been busy and challenging, leaving little time for a social life. She’d almost forgotten how to flirt, and she could hardly remember the last time she’d gone beyond flirtation. It was definitely time to address that situation. She had even considered signing up with an online dating service.

      She supposed she could consider this impromptu coffee break as practice…or maybe a possible beginning? Paul had certainly remained in her thoughts after their previous meetings.

      “It sounds as though Cassie and her siblings had a close extended support system,” she said, trying to stay focused on the conversation. “That had to be good for them.”

      Paul nodded, his expression suddenly hard to read. “Yeah. It’s been great. But a lot of things are changing. For Cassie and for me.”

      With a slight shake of his head, he reached again for his cookie before she could decide how to respond. “I don’t usually tell my life story over coffee, but since you’ll be helping us with the wedding arrangements, I figured you’d want to know you don’t have to go out of your way to accommodate the bride’s parents. Nor do you have to worry about anything unpleasant occurring during the event. We’re cool with whatever works best for Cassie and the wedding planner.”

      Bonnie chuckled. “That is very helpful. But I have little to do with the actual wedding ceremony. My sister handles the arrangements with the planner and the subcontractors. I take care of the inn itself—hosting overnight guests, preparing and serving breakfast six days a week, Sunday brunch and a light supper Sunday evening, and any special food orders not handled by an outside caterer. Our brother takes care of the grounds. He’ll hang special lights or put up torches or garland or whatever else Cassie wants for decorations.”

      “You have your responsibilities well-defined.”

      “When you’re dealing with siblings, that’s the best plan of action,” she said, knowing Logan and Kinley, her brother and sister, would heartily agree.

      He laughed. “I can imagine.”

      Kinley and Logan had been a bit hesitant about the massive undertaking of refurbishing and reopening a 1930s-era inn that had been closed to guests for eighteen years before it had been willed to them, especially considering the state of the economy at the time. Great-uncle Leo Finley had done his best to keep the place up but it had become too much for him to do more than basic maintenance. After he’d lost his dear wife, Helen, who had been his longtime partner in both life and business, he hadn’t had the heart to keep their inn running. But neither had he been able to sell the establishment his own father had built and operated for years. Leo’s will had bequeathed the inn and a sizable life insurance policy equally to his great nieces and nephew, with full permission for them to do with it as they wished—though he’d known it was Bonnie’s lifelong dream to reopen it.

      Bonnie had begged and cajoled her brother and sister into investing everything they had—financially, emotionally, physically—into restoring their heritage. Or as her sister termed it, she had “bullied” them into it. Bonnie knew her petite blonde appearance could be deceptive. She might look like a pushover, but when she set her mind on something, she could be tenacious.

      With her degree and experience in hotel management, Kinley’s marketing and sales background, and Logan’s computer training and eclectic interests in landscaping and construction, she had assured her siblings they had a fighting chance for success. What was the worst that could happen? she’d asked. Bankruptcy? A hard pill to swallow, but they could recover from that eventually, as long as they had each other.

      Maybe that final argument had been a little cheesy, but it had worked.

      “We’re pleased that Cassie chose the inn as the venue for her wedding,” she said sincerely. “I promise we’ll all do our best to make the experience everything she hopes for.”

      “I’m sure you will. Cassie said she had a good feeling about the inn the first time she saw it.”

      “I’m glad. She seems like a sweetheart.”

      Obviously, she’d found Paul’s weakness. His jade eyes warmed as his smile softened. “I’m biased, of course, but I think she’s pretty special. Smart as a whip, like her mom. She graduated as her high school’s valedictorian, will complete her bachelor’s degree with honors in August, and is already accepted into an elite graduate program in London starting in January. She’s studying fashion design. She’s very talented.”

      There was something especially appealing about a man who was so unabashedly crazy about his child. “Family man” was number one on the list of qualities she would look for in a potential partner. She’d always thought she would like to marry and perhaps start a family someday, but before she committed fully to anyone, she would have to be very sure he was completely ready to settle down, prepared to work as hard as she at making the union last. The total opposite of her own footloose father, who’d left his family when Bonnie was only four to pursue his own ever-restless dreams of traveling the world.

      “I can tell you’re very proud of Cassie. With good reason, obviously.”

      He grimaced good-naturedly. “I know, I’m bragging shamelessly. I’m having a hard time accepting that she’s about to marry and move to another continent. I tried to talk her into waiting a couple of years, but she and Mike are determined to get married now, so I’ve just had to accept her decision. Still, it seems like just last week I was tucking her into bed after letting her eat a forbidden fast-food burger and ice cream sundae for dinner.”

      “Did you let the twins have forbidden food, too?”

      He winked at her. “Why do you think they consider me their favorite uncle?”

      Bonnie was enjoying this conversation. Having spent so much time lately with her reticent, taciturn older brother, it was nice to chat with a man who was comfortably talkative. “Good conversationalist” was high on that list of desirable traits in a man, followed by “good sense of humor.”

      “Speaking of food…” She glanced down at the market bag at his feet, wondering if what she was about to suggest was foolish. “I don’t know if you’re interested or have time, but beginning next Tuesday, I’m teaching a few classes in cooking with seasonal produce. The classes will meet at the inn for the next three Tuesday evenings from six until eight and we’ll cover buying produce, knife skills, cooking methods and ways to preserve fresh produce for off-season use.”

      Her sister had told her that Paul taught high school, which probably explained why he was free today on a summer weekday. Maybe he was looking for something else to do during his break?

      His eyebrows rose, though she couldn’t quite tell if it was from surprise, interest or both. “You’re teaching cooking classes?”

      She nodded. “I was sort of pressured into it by a woman who has booked several social events at the inn. She thought it would be fun if she and a few of her friends took cooking lessons, and she asked if I would consider teaching them at the inn. I have room for six in the class, but one dropped out so I have an opening.”

      “I didn’t know you offered classes.”

      “I have on occasion, usually during the off-season—Kinley’s idea to keep people coming into the inn even when we have few outdoor events scheduled. I’ve conducted several one-day specialty classes like cupcake decorating, or making jams, jellies and preserves, or candy-making. This will be my first multisession class. I understand, of course, if you’re not interested, but you mentioned you’d like to learn to cook fresh produce…”

      “Actually,