Wedding on the Beach Read online

  Wedding on the Beach

  Kay Correll

  Rose Quartz Press

  Contents

  Kay’s Books

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Also by Kay Correll

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2017 Kay Correll

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any matter without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental

  * * *

  Published by Rose Quartz Press

  0516r17

  ISBN: 978-1-944761-91-2

  This book is dedicated to my favorite son.

  “You are my favorite.”

  “I know.”

  Kay’s Books

  Find more information on all my books at my website.

  * * *

  COMFORT CROSSING ~ THE SERIES

  The Shop on Main - Book One

  The Memory Box - Book Two

  The Christmas Cottage - A Holiday Novella (Book 2.5)

  The Letter - Book Three

  The Christmas Scarf - A Holiday Novella (Book 3.5)

  The Magnolia Cafe - Book Four

  The Unexpected Wedding - Book Five

  * * *

  The Wedding in the Grove - (a crossover short story between series - with Josephine and Paul from The Letter.)

  * * *

  LIGHTHOUSE POINT ~ THE SERIES

  Wish Upon a Shell - Book One

  Wedding on the Beach - Book Two (spring 2017)

  Love at the Lighthouse - Book Three (summer 2017)

  Click here to learn more about the series.

  * * *

  INDIGO BAY ~ A multi-author sweet romance series

  Sweet Sunrise - Book Three

  * * *

  Sign up for my newsletter to make sure you don’t miss any new releases or sales. Click here to sign up: Newsletter Signup

  Chapter 1

  Cindy Pearson’s mother was going to hate the fact the columns supporting the huge front porch of the Belle Island Inn were battered from the sea breezes and in need of a fresh coat of paint. Cindy knew her mother was sure to point it out first thing, and add it to the list of why the resort was such a poor choice for a wedding, a wedding that would take place in just five days.

  Cindy sat in her car parked in the curved driveway in front of the inn. It looked exactly like she remembered it from when she’d been there as a child. Well, it seemed a bit older now, and a tad more worn, but charming in its own way.

  She slipped out of her current year, black BMW, an engagement present from her fiancé, George. One thing about George, he sure knew how to surprise her with grand gestures. Her father had been more impressed with the gift than she’d been. Must be a guy thing. Oh, she liked the car. Reliable. It was pretty. But her eyes glazed over when her father and George started talking about torque and horsepower and other car-type things that didn’t interest her. To be honest, it had pained her to sell her old Honda sedan that had run faithfully for her for years. She closed the door on her shiny new vehicle, the sun glinting off its freshly waxed surface, and crossed over to the wooden steps leading up to the huge double front doors.

  The cool interior of the lobby was a welcome relief from the relentless sunshine outside. She’d forgotten how humid it was down here on Belle Island. Her mother had convinced her to have a tightly gathered, fancy up-do for her wedding so the humidity wouldn’t be able to unfurl her unruly curls.

  She crossed over to a long reception desk, the cherrywood polished and smooth from years of use. They’d added on since she’d been here so many years ago. Her family had vacationed on the island for many summers when she’d been a young girl. She’d had such glorious times on the island and such fond memories of those endless summer days.

  It had seemed like such a logical choice to have a destination wedding here after her parents’ first choice of venue, their country club in Lexington, Kentucky, had been booked for all the weekends in June. She was pretty sure her mother thought George would change his mind about the whole wedding thing if they delayed the big day until the first available weekend at the country club. So Cindy had come up with the plan to have the wedding here at Belle Island Inn in Florida.

  “May I help you?” A tall, lean man walked out from a room behind the desk. A patient smile crossed his suntanned face. She wasn’t completely sure if the smile was genuine or customer service required.

  “Yes. I’d like to check in.”

  “Your name?”

  “Cindy Pearson.”

  The man looked up quickly. “Ah, the bride.” He cocked a lazy grin at her then and tapped away at the computer. “Here’s the key to your room. The Sunset Suite. Third floor. Corner room. Great view.”

  She knew all that. She’d handpicked which room she would have, as well as rooms for her parents and the maid of honor, her sister, Vanessa. She’d even picked out George’s room. It was down the hall from her, but far enough away that her conservative father wouldn’t raise his eyebrow. Most of their other guests were on the lower floors of the resort, especially the groomsmen, in case they got rowdy. Not that she could imagine George with rowdy friends, but so far she’d only met one of the groomsmen. They were all friends from his college days at Notre Dame.

  The man behind the counter stared at her. She shifted back and forth on her feet then glanced down at her leather planner she’d opened up on the counter. She looked at the long to-do list and quickly checked off register at hotel by three o’clock.

  “You don’t remember me, do you?”

  Cindy looked up and perused the man’s features. He looked vaguely familiar in a can’t-connect-the-dots way.

  “No, I’m sorry. Have we met before?”

  “Cinderella Dream Girl.”

  “Oh.” She dropped her fountain pen that was way too expensive to drop. “Jamie.”

  “In the flesh.”

  Jamie McFarlane. She hadn’t really thought of him in years. She hadn’t thought of his nickname for her either, Cinderella Dream Girl. Jamie had always teasingly called her that. All those summers of running the beach, hanging out, and hours spent just talking about everything and nothing. He’d been such a good friend to her. Then sometime in high school it had become more important to stay home and hang out with her Lexington friends than vacation at Belle Island.

  “I just… I didn’t realize you’d be here at your uncle’s resort all these years later.”

  She tried to keep from staring at his face, seeing remnants of the young boy who had been her friend in the strong-etched features of the man before her. His brown hair still had a hint of red and was cut short. A tiny bit of stubble covered his face in a careless but not messy way. His short-sleeve shirt strained around muscles cut into his tanned arms. She looked down at her planner, embarrassed to think of how long she’d been ogling him.

  Jamie cleared his throat. “Do you need some help with your bags?” />
  “I do. I have so many bags and my wedding dress in the car.”

  “I can help you with that.”

  “Still the all-around handy guy here?”

  Jamie paused for a moment, gave her a brief nod, and led the way back out into the oppressive heat of the afternoon.

  * * *

  Jamie opened the door to The Sunset Suite and stepped back for Cindy to enter. The midafternoon sunshine flooded the room with light. He smiled at Cindy’s excited gasp as she took in the view.

  “Oh, Jamie. It’s just perfect. The room, the view.”

  Good. He’d worked hard to get this suite in top shape after he’d learned that his Cinderella Dream Girl was returning to have her wedding at the resort.

  His Cinderella Dream Girl?

  He turned his attention back to the job at hand and wheeled the luggage cart, stacked high with suitcases and a precisely hung garment bag that he assumed held the wedding dress, into the room. He tilted his head to the left. “Those doors lead to the bedroom.” He flipped his thumb to the right. “There’s a mini fridge over there by the sofa. Just let me know if you need anything special and I’ll do my best to find it.”

  “Thank you. It all looks great.” Cindy crossed the room to the French doors leading to the balcony overlooking the gulf. She tugged on the handle.

  It came off in her hand, then clattered to the floor.

  “Oh.” She turned and looked at him in surprise.

  Nice. Great first impression.

  He quickly crossed over and scooped up the handle. “Sorry. I thought that had been fixed. I could replace it with new ones, but the old ones seem more in character with the resort. I’ll have to work on it again. Try the other set of doors.”

  Cindy moved to the other set of French doors and tentatively turned the handle. The door swung open easily, and she stepped out onto the balcony. The wind immediately tossed her curls this way and that. He remembered how she used to battle those curls into submission, though he’d always preferred them flying around with reckless abandon. She snatched her hand up to capture her hair into a loose grasp to keep it from whipping her face.

  Jamie went out on the balcony and lounged against the door frame. She stood still for a few moments looking up and down the beach.

  “I’ve missed this.”

  He’d missed this, too. But he wasn’t talking about the view. He’d missed her. Their friendship. It all came back to him in a wave of memories. The long walks. The talks. The fact that she’d seemed to get him like no one else. Somewhere along the line he’d forgotten what her friendship had meant to him.

  And now she was marrying some George guy, who, he was sure, wouldn’t like his fiancée rekindling a friendship with a male from her past. Even if they’d really just been kids back then.

  “So, this guy you’re marrying…”

  “George Middleton.”

  “How’d you meet him?”

  “We actually met at the races. Daddy got a new horse that’s doing pretty well for him. He thinks he might make it all the way to the Derby.”

  That’s right, her father was into the horses. How could he have forgotten that detail? Her father could talk endlessly about horses, and Jamie didn’t understand half of what the man was saying. It was like a foreign language to him in a world where he definitely didn’t belong. He was just the boy who worked at the inn.

  He shook his head to clear out the thoughts. “So, is George a horse guy, too?”

  “He just enjoys going to the races. He doesn’t own any. He’s a lawyer.”

  “A lawyer, huh?” He didn’t know what else to say. He wondered if this George was some fancy hot-shot corporate lawyer type. Or maybe he defended rich people and got them off when they really didn’t deserve it.

  Jamie chastised himself silently. He hadn’t even met this George guy and here he was jumping to conclusions.

  Cindy looked at him then, with those same honey-brown eyes, the ones that used to crinkle with laughter at some joke he told, or smolder with pent-up resentment when her sister used to tease her about her hair, or her weight, or a myriad of other things. He hadn’t thought of Cindy’s sister in years. She’d been the most self-centered person he’d ever met.

  He couldn’t resist asking. “So, your sister. How is she?”

  “She’s… fine. My maid of honor.”

  “Really? I didn’t think you two got along very well. At least not when we were kids.”

  “Well, it was expected. Besides, she’s kind of miffed that I’m getting married before she is. Well, she’s been married before, but she’s divorced now. She’s been dating again. A handful of the most eligible bachelors in Kentucky, but none of them have gotten serious, much to her dismay. The maid of honor thing was partly my way of apologizing for getting married while she’s still on her husband number two hunt.”

  “Why would you have to apologize?”

  “You know Vanessa. She likes to… well… get what she wants. She thinks she has to be married to get rid of her embarrassment over getting divorced. Pearsons don’t get divorced. It was probably the first time Vanessa has ever disappointed my parents. Daddy put out the word to his cronies that her husband was the cause, implied in a hushed way that said he wouldn’t say anything more. That seemed to smooth over things in their circle.”

  “And was he the cause?”

  “I don’t think so. He was a nice enough guy. He couldn’t get Vanessa to quit spending and spending though. I know that was one of their problems.”

  More of those memories of when they were kids were coming back now. How Cindy’s mother always nagged at her to sit up straight, speak clearly, do something with her wild hair. How Vanessa would make subtle digs about Cindy’s clothes, the way she walked, and her seemingly constant ability to trip over things. He vividly remembered how Vanessa could do no wrong in her mother’s eyes.

  Cindy walked back into the room and he followed her inside, closing the French door carefully behind him, glad to see the handle stayed attached to the door.

  “Anyway, they’ll all be here tomorrow. I just wanted to get here early and make sure everything is going as planned. Check on things. You know, make sure things are going to go smoothly.” Cindy took a small bag off of the luggage cart.

  “I’ll do my best to help.” He reached for a suitcase. “Here, let me get that.”

  “Thanks. I’m supposed to meet with your wedding coordinator, Mandy, at six tonight.”

  “Um, about that.” Jamie screwed up his courage. “She’s not going to be available.”

  “What do you mean? She had to reschedule?”

  “More like… cancel.”

  “What?”

  He heard the panic in Cindy’s voice.

  “Mandy’s boy got chicken pox, and funny thing…” Jamie swallowed then pasted on a it’s-no-big-deal look. “Mandy came down with chicken pox, too.”

  “What am I going to do?” Cindy tugged at her curls, dashing them away from her face.

  “Well… I think you’re stuck with me as the coordinator. But don’t worry. We’ve had tons of weddings here. I know how things work.” He hoped that little—okay really big—exaggeration didn’t come back to haunt him. More like a handful or two. But how hard could it be to coordinate a wedding? Seriously, most of the planning was finished. Mandy had given him her notebook. Surely he could just go through her checklist. It would be a piece of cake.

  * * *

  “You can’t tell me that I have no wedding coordinator. Not five days before the wedding. You can’t.” Cindy’s blood pressure began to rise.

  Jamie looked like a boy caught stealing candy. “I, um, I’m sure it will be okay. I can handle things, really.”

  Cindy was not reassured by his words. Or the look of doubt she could see in his eyes. Waves of memories of their childhood swept over her. The ones where his words were larger than the actual reality. “You’re going to make sure everything is set up, the flowers, the chairs? Everything is
worked out for the rehearsal dinner and the reception? You’re going to run the rehearsal? Coordinate everything the day of the wedding?”

  “I, uh…yes. I can do all that. I have the wedding coordinator’s notes. It will be fine. I’m sure of it…”

  While Cindy knew that millions of people in the world got married without a wedding coordinator, she was pretty sure her mother had never attended a wedding that didn’t have one, or quite possibly a coordinator and an assistant coordinator.

  Do not panic.

  “You have no one who can help you?”

  “Trust me. It’ll be fine. I can do it all. You’ll see. Mandy even told me where she keeps the bride emergency box. Safety pins, tissues, hair pin thingies. Stuff like that.”

  “Oh, that makes me feel so much better…” She didn’t even try to hide the sarcasm in her voice.

  Panic did take over now. She was going to have to make up a list of everything that needed to be checked and make sure everything went smoothly. She had to make sure the wedding was perfect. And she was going to have to pull off all of that while convincing her mother it was no big deal that they didn’t have a wedding coordinator, and that everything was under control.

  She swept the room with a glance of apprehension, looking for her planner. There it was, over on the table by the door. First thing, she was going to sit down and make a list of everything she could think of that needed to be checked on. So far it wasn’t turning out to be the peaceful, perfect wedding she had imagined.

  “We can sit down and go through Mandy’s notes, if that will help. And if it makes you feel better, I’m always the one in charge of the food, so don’t stress about the rehearsal dinner or the reception.”

  Cindy let out a long, drawn-out breath. “Okay. Let me get unpacked and I’ll come downstairs. We’ll go over the coordinator’s notes and then see where we are with things.”