“Once you get the hang of it, driving here isn’t bad. I find it simply takes a little practice.”
“Well, you rescued me. I didn’t know what I would do after your father ended up having to schedule a conference call this morning. The difference in time zones gives him a very narrow window for taking care of things at home.”
“I’m sure.”
“Your sister is coming straight from her office, as well, and I didn’t want her to have to pop out of her way to pick me up, especially when you were just a few streets over.”
No two addresses in Haven Point were particularly far from each other. Gemma no doubt could have picked up their mother without any bother. He had been available, though, and hadn’t seen any good reason to refuse her request.
“I don’t mind,” Ian told her again. “While you’re busy trying things on, I’ll just head over to the bookshop down the street and catch up on some reading.”
“You should at least come in and say hello to Samantha. It’s the neighborly thing to do, right?”
He narrowed his gaze at his mother, certain again that she had more than dress shopping on her mind. Despite her best efforts at subterfuge, Margaret was wholly transparent. He suspected the entire reason she had asked him for a ride had more to do with her ill-fated matchmaking efforts on his behalf than any real need.
In this case, though, she was probably correct. Since he had agreed to bring his mother to her shop, Samantha would find it odd if he didn’t at least say hello.
“Yes. All right,” he finally said. “I’ll pop in, but only for a moment. I am quite sure I’ll only be in the way.”
“You could never be in the way, darling,” his mother said, which both of them knew was a complete falsehood. He didn’t see the point in arguing with her and decided to keep his mouth shut.
By then, they had reached the front entrance to the shop. He was aware of a little burst of anticipation as Margaret pushed open the door, which gave a cheerful little chime.
When he walked inside, he immediately felt out of place. The store was decorated in pink and gilt with Tiffany-blue accents. Something told him this decor hadn’t been Samantha’s choice, though he couldn’t have said exactly how he knew that with such surety.
A young woman with choppy dark hair who seemed to be around the age of his students was rearranging the display in one of the windows. She gave them a friendly smile. “Hello. May I help you find something?”
“Yes,” his mother said, smiling in return. “I’m looking for my daughter. Gemma Summerhill.”
“Oh, of course. She’s just arrived. She and Samantha are in the largest fitting room. It’s just through that door there.”
As Margaret turned to go in that direction, the store clerk gave Ian an appraising look. “I know you’re not the groom. I’ve met Josh Bailey. I have to ask, are you part of the wedding party?”
“I’m Gemma’s brother.”
And I absolutely don’t belong in this soft, sweet-smelling, feminine space, he wanted to add.
“Oh, how fun that you came for the dress fitting!” she said. “It’s a true family affair.”
“I’m only the chauffeur,” he quickly explained. “I’m not here for the fitting.”
His mother headed toward the back of Samantha’s shop where the clerk had indicated. She slipped through the door, leaving Ian uncertain about what to do. Should he accompany her, wait here or head over to the bookshop?
He hesitated, feeling big and male and out of place amid all the flowers and gilt and fabrics.
He was about to turn and escape when the door through which his mother had slipped opened again and Samantha bustled through, making notes on a clipboard. She was dressed in a plain white blouse, navy slacks and matching sandals. He caught a fleeting glimpse of pink-painted toes that for some ridiculous reason made his heartbeat kick up.
She almost ran into him before she realized he was there. “Oh,” she exclaimed, looking up from her clipboard. “Hello.”
He couldn’t seem to stop staring, wishing more than anything that he had the right to pull her hair out of that loose bun and run his fingers through it.
Oh, lord. Had he really told her he was infatuated with her? He was such an idiot.
“Hi,” he managed.
A little hint of pink appeared on each cheekbone and he immediately wanted to touch his mouth to both spots.
He closed his eyes, mortified at himself. “My, uh, mother rang me for a ride. I’ve just dropped her off.”
Of course he had. She must have seen his mother only seconds earlier. What other possible reason would he have for being there?
“That’s nice of you. Thank you. I only needed to find a particular pattern book I think your mother might like.”
“She’s very much looking forward to working with you,” he said.
For some reason, his words seemed to spark panic in her eyes.
“How am I going to find the perfect dress for your mother and finish it in less than two weeks?”
He didn’t want her upset. He wanted to tuck her against him and make everything all right for her, no matter what it might take. “Easy enough,” he said. “You only have to tell her you don’t have time. She brought two dresses along that she picked up at home. One of them will be perfectly fine.”
“Not if she doesn’t like them.”
“She liked them well enough when she bought them,” he pointed out in what he thought was a perfectly reasonable argument. “If it will help, I suggested she bring them both along so that you might have a better idea of her tastes. They’re both in the car. Would you like me to fetch them?”
She stared at him, eyes wide and a dawning relief
