“What’s on your mind?” he asked, offering her a sip of his drink.
Getting it out wasn’t half as easy as she’d hoped. She stumbled over the words, tried to gather her thoughts and tried again. After half a dozen tries, Kevin grinned.
“Are you by any chance trying to tell me that you’ve changed your mind about marrying me?” he asked.
Gracie beamed at him. “Yes. That’s it exactly.”
Kevin whooped, then scooped her into his arms and twirled her around. “You won’t regret it. We’re going to have an amazing life, Gracie.”
The DJ on the radio chose that precise moment to play something slow and sexy and romantic, a counterpoint to the fast-paced rock ’n roll that had been playing.
Which was why, when Laura Lee and Henrietta and Florence got together the next morning, all they could talk about was the rumor that Kevin Patrick Daniels had been seen dancing—swaying, more likely—with Gracie MacDougal on the widow’s walk of Delia’s old house, while Delia herself applauded from her perch on the rocks across the street, where she had a clear view of everything going on and a view of the river so she could pretend that’s what had her attention.
“Guess those two are getting married after all,” Henrietta said.
“More than likely,” Laura Lee agreed.
“Ought to be interesting, don’t you think?” Florence said.
“What I think is, we’d better change our walking route to go past there,” Henrietta said. “We don’t want to miss any more of the really good stuff going on in this town and it seems to me those two are bound to be at the center of it.”
Epilogue
In the past the prospect of planning her own wedding would have sent Gracie into a tailspin, filling entire notebooks with lists, but Kevin’s influence was rubbing off after all. She actually managed to put the whole thing out of her mind while she concentrated on getting the bed-and-breakfast open on the same weekend Bobby Ray and Marianne remarried.
Then a week after that, she and Kevin and Delia and Abby flew to Cannes to see Helen marry Max. Bobby Ray and Marianne interrupted their honeymoon in Italy to join them for the ceremony in an ancient stone church in a nearby village.
“Is that the kind of wedding you’d like, Gracie?” Delia asked as they were flying home.
She gazed at Kevin. Couldn’t take her eyes off of him, in fact. It struck her that staring at Kevin could become a fascinating lifetime occupation. “Whatever,” she murmured.
“Well, someone has to plan this wedding,” Delia grumbled. “I suppose it’ll just have to be me.”
“Whatever you’d like, Grandmother,” Kevin murmured, never taking his eyes from Gracie.
“This laid-back nonsense has gotten entirely out of hand,” Delia muttered, but even as she said it, she was pulling a stack of bridal magazines out of her tote bag. She slipped across the aisle to the seat next to Abby. “I suppose it’s up to you and me.”
“Do we have a budget?” Abby asked.
Delia glanced over and gave Gracie and Kevin a challenging look. “The sky’s the limit.”
“I heard that,” Kevin said.
“Me, too,” Gracie chimed in.
“Well, I’m not hearing any arguments now, am I?” Delia demanded.
Gracie grinned at Kevin. “Not from me,” she said.
“Just don’t book the National Cathedral,” he said. “I want to get married at home.”
“At Greystone Manor?” Delia asked, clearly startled.
“No, at your house,” he said, then placed his hand against Gracie’s cheek. “Our house,” he corrected. “Okay with you, darlin’?”
“Whatever.”
Delia gave a nod of approval. “Perfect. We’ll hold the ceremony indoors and the reception in the garden. The weather’s lovely this time of year.”
Gracie thought back to what seemed a thousand lifetimes ago, when she’d uttered much the same comment to Max as she’d prepared to depart for Virginia. She’d lived through spring and summer and a touch of fall so far. As near as she could tell, with Kevin in her life, all the seasons were bound to be spectacular.
† Chesapeake Shores
**Trinity Harbor
† Chesapeake Shores
† Chesapeake Shores
* The Sweet Magnolias
* The Sweet Magnolias
* The Sweet Magnolias
* The Sweet Magnolias
**Trinity Harbor
**Trinity Harbor
