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All of Me (The Bridesmaids Club Book 1) Page 2
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The front door banged open. “Sorry I’m late,” Annie yelled from the front of the café. “How’s your head this morning?”
A mini tornado of red sweater and jeans arrived in the kitchen. “Molly didn’t get…” she stopped in the middle of the room. “Logan? What are you doing here?”
“Tess had an emergency.”
“You’re making pancakes?”
He nodded. “Blueberry.”
Annie looked between them and smiled. “What do you want me to do?”
“Make the apple huckleberry pies,” Tess said. “I’m just about to start the pecan pie Mr. Donaldson ordered.” Logan moved out of her way as she put a tray of cookies in the oven. “The Groovy Grans will be here soon.”
Annie washed her hands and nodded. She lifted a container of sugar onto the counter and measured flour and baking powder into a bowl.
He watched Annie and Tess move around the kitchen, adding random ingredients to bowls. “Where are your recipe books?”
Annie grinned. “We don’t need them, not for the regular recipes anyway.”
Logan poured another batch of pancake batter onto the griddle. “I’m going to need more pancake mix.”
“Already on it,” Tess said. She left a bowl of batter beside him. “I’ll just check the café.”
She walked out of the room and Logan watched Annie roll out the pie crusts.
Annie smiled. “You must have done something really nice for Tess.”
“Because she’s not growling at me?”
“You noticed?” She looked over at the kitchen door. “We had a really late night last night. I’m surprised she made it in here on time.”
“Where did you go?”
“Ennis.” The beeper on the oven went off and Annie took the scones out.
Logan laughed as he flipped the pancakes. “I wouldn’t have thought there’d be a whole lot of action happening in Ennis on a Friday night.”
Annie started peeling a bowl of apples. “You are so wrong. We had a great time. Molly and Tess hadn’t tasted moonshine before. Willie’s Distillery makes the best legal moonshine ever. Just don’t mention their bourbon whiskey to Sally when you next see her.”
“She liked it too much?”
“Enough to buy a few bottles to bring home. Can you pass me two of the lemons beside you?”
Logan looked along the counter and handed Annie the lemons. He heard the distant roar of motorcycle engines and checked how many pancakes he’d made.
Annie dropped the half-peeled apple in her bowl and raced over to a set of cupboards. “They’re early. They don’t usually arrive for another fifteen minutes.” She started lifting out glasses, putting them on trays and moving into the café.
The kitchen door opened and Tess headed straight across to the fridge. “The Groovy Grans are down the street. Keep those pancakes coming, Logan. I’ll be back soon.” She took two jugs of juice into the café and he looked around the kitchen.
If it had been a calm oasis when he arrived, it wasn’t now. And with the amount of noise coming from the street, it wasn’t about to get any better.
***
Tess took another sip of orange juice and sighed. The morning rush was over. She could have a break, enjoy some peace and quiet in the café before the lunch crowd descended.
“Do you want to share a pancake. You look as though you need it.” Logan sent a sunny smile her way and she scowled.
“No, thanks.”
He ate another big fork of pancake and shrugged his shoulders. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”
She did know what she was missing and she still didn’t care. Her head felt like it was pounding off her shoulders. She’d swallowed a couple of Tylenol halfway through the Groovy Grans’ breakfast, but it hadn’t made much difference.
“Moonshine can do that to you if you’re not careful.” Logan drizzled more maple syrup on his last pancake.
Tess watched Logan put the cap back on the bottle and pick up his knife and fork. After the Groovy Grans had left on their motorcycles, Logan had gone home, had a shower and returned to eat his promised pancakes.
“How do you know I was drinking Moonshine?”
Annie put a grilled cheese sandwich in front of Tess. “That would have been me. We were, you know, passing the time of day. I happened to mention our late night.”
Tess looked at the sandwich. She didn’t know if she could eat it.
Annie put the weekend newspaper on the table and patted her shoulder. “I’ll look after the café. Take as long as you need.”
“Thanks, Annie.” Tess watched her friend walk to the front counter.
“You should go for a run. Sweat the alcohol out of your body.”
Tess flicked open the paper and ignored Logan.
“So we’re back to bickering buddies again? I wondered how long our truce would last.”
“We didn’t have a truce and we aren’t buddies. Although I do appreciate your help this morning.”
“Nice to know there’s a heart in there somewhere.”
Logan didn’t seem particularly devastated by Tess’ lack of enthusiasm where he was concerned. And he shouldn’t have been. They weren’t friends, but Tess supposed he could be called an acquaintance. Especially after her one disastrous attempt to find out why he was living in Bozeman. He ate at her café at least three times a week and had a soft spot for pancakes. The only thing they had in common was that Logan was a reporter and she hated reporters. Most days they didn’t have a lot to say to each other.
“Pancakes tasted good.”
Tess looked up. “Thanks.”
“What I don’t understand is how you can be so nice one minute, then in the next breath turn into an ice maiden. Someone must have burned you real bad.”
Tess squinted at Logan. “I believe the correct phrasing is ‘really bad’.”
“So who was he? Some heart-throb who spurned you at the altar? Or maybe you didn’t get that far. Maybe he dumped you for your best friend and you’ve never forgiven him?”
Tess turned over another page in the newspaper. Logan didn’t know how close he’d gotten to the truth. Except it hadn’t been as simple as her boyfriend running off with her best friend. Her best friend had died and Andrew Gibson had walked away a free man.
Logan wiped his mouth on a napkin and took his dirty dishes across to Annie. Before he left the café, he came and stood beside Tess’ table.
He leaned down, close enough that she could smell his aftershave and the clean scent that was all man. “Someday you’re going to tell me why you don’t like me. And when you do, I’m going to show you how wrong you are.”
Tess looked him straight in the eyes. “That someday will never come.”
Logan smiled. “It almost happened once.” His eyes dropped to her mouth and Tess blushed.
“Well, if it’s not Mr. Hot and Steamy.” Sally, Tess’ friend, stood beside Logan, smiling at him as if she’d seen something funny. “Don’t worry about, Tess. She doesn’t appreciate a good man when she sees one.”
“You can say that again,” he muttered. “I’ve got to go. Enjoy your weekend.” He smiled at Sally and nodded at Tess.
Tess went back to reading the paper.
“You can be such a witch sometimes.” Sally dropped into the seat opposite her. “Logan’s a good guy. You don’t like reporters, and I guess you’ve got your reasons. But that’s no excuse to treat him like the enemy.”
Tess folded the newspaper in half. “Can we talk about something else?”
“As soon as I’ve bought my lunch. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Sally walked over to Annie and started looking through the glass cabinets beside the till.
Tess imagined that some women might find Logan attractive. He was easily six-foot-five and had dark brown eyes that turned to amber when he was thinking about…she dragged her brain away from where that thought was going and concentrated on his body. That didn’t do her much good either.
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Rock hard muscles that could have been sculptured out of granite summed him up perfectly. He would have ticked more than one ‘yes’ box in a desperate woman’s fantasy. But she wasn’t desperate. She didn’t even care if his smile could melt an iceberg, or an ice maiden. He was a reporter and that meant off-limits. No way. Ever.
“So what have you been arguing about with Logan this time?” Sally returned to the table with a chicken pie and a raspberry muffin.
“We weren’t arguing. He helped cook pancakes this morning.”
“Logan did? Why?”
Tess sighed. “It’s a long story. What have you been doing?”
“Recovering from last night.” Sally bit into her pie and smiled. “These are the best chicken pies in Montana. You should start a pie restaurant.”
“It’s hard enough finding the time to run this café. I couldn’t imagine having a restaurant as well.”
“It’s because you’re a control freak. You can’t let someone else take over.”
Tess smiled. “You could be right.”
“I know I’m right. So how come Logan was here?”
“I was desperate. I’d run out of buttermilk.”
Sally blew on the pie. “The old buttermilk excuse. It will get a man every time.”
Tess bit into her cheese sandwich. “It was half-past five in the morning. My options were limited.”
“But what an option,” Sally said with a grin.
Tess looked at her watch. “I’ve got to get moving. Annie needs a break and the lunch customers will be here soon. Molly’s coming by for a coffee after we close. Do you want to join us?”
“Count me in. And try not to be so hard on Logan. He’s a nice guy.”
“Maybe,” Tess said grudgingly as she stood up. But he was a reporter and she had a past no one knew about. And she planned on keeping it that way.
***
By four o’clock that afternoon, Tess was glad she’d invited her friends over for coffee. She laughed at something Molly said and felt the day’s dramas melting away.
The Irish photographer laughed back. “It’s true. He said he’d had a grand time on our first date. When he told me he was looking for a wife, I didn’t know what to say.”
“I hope you said no.” Sally reached for her coffee and stopped when Molly didn’t reply. “You did say no, didn’t you?”
Molly’s cheeks turned red. “I married Rowan six months later.”
“You what?” Annie leaned forward. “You married him?”
Molly looked slowly around the table. “He was charming and handsome. He whispered the poetry of Yeats and Moore in my ear.” She shrugged her shoulders. “It warmed my heart to be with him.”
“What happened?” Tess asked. “He didn’t come to Montana with you.”
“He ran off with a barmaid from County Kerry a few months after we were married. I was naive and foolish.”
“At least you were able to be foolish.” Annie bit into her cookie.
“Well don’t keep us in suspense,” Tess said. “What happened?”
“That’s a story for another time.” Annie glanced at another table and frowned. “Did anyone see the article in today’s paper about the house burglary?”
“You wouldn’t be changing the subject, would you?” Molly asked.
Annie shook her head. “It’s really sad. Wait here…” She walked across the café and picked up a newspaper. She opened it to the first page and handed it to Tess. “The house was burgled while the owners were visiting the bride-to-be’s mom in the hospital. They’re getting married in two weeks’ time and their bridesmaids’ dresses were stolen.”
Tess skimmed through the article. “No insurance,” she muttered. “Why do people do that?”
“Can’t afford it or don’t think anything will ever happen to them.” Sally looked over Tess’ shoulder. “They lost everything. How sad is that?”
“The bride’s mom has got breast cancer,” Annie added. “They can’t delay the wedding in case she doesn’t make it.”
Tess gave the paper to Sally. “It doesn’t sound as though they’ve got much money.” She knew what it felt like to not know where your next meal was coming from. But at least she’d had a roof over her head and grandparents who didn’t mind taking in an angry thirteen-year-old.
Tess watched Sally finish the article and pass it to Molly. “A couple of months ago we were talking about always being bridesmaids and never brides.”
Sally frowned. “Was that the one where we were also discussing our non-existent love lives?”
Tess nodded. “How many bridesmaids’ dresses have we got between the four of us?”
“I know where you’re going with this.” Sally grinned. “I’ve got eight.” She smiled at Annie’s shocked gasp. “What can I say? Cupid keeps missing me with his arrow.”
“I’ve never been a bridesmaid,” Molly said. “But I’m sure some of the brides I’ve photographed would be happy to donate their bridesmaids’ dresses.”
“I’ve got two,” Annie said.
Tess added up how many weddings she’d been a bridesmaid for. “I’ve got seven. We could easily help the couple in the paper.” She looked around the table waiting to hear what everyone else thought.
Sally frowned. “What if they’re the wrong sizes, or the bride wants the same colors and styles? We’ve got seventeen dresses, but they’re all different.”
“We could make a catalog,” Molly said. “I could take photos of each dress. We could add the sizes and the skirt length. It wouldn’t take much to match a bridesmaid up with a dress. If the bride wants the same color, she can dye them.”
Tess ran behind the sales counter and picked up a pen and her notebook. “It could work.” She sat back down at the table and started making notes. “How many bridesmaids’ dresses do we need for the bride in the newspaper?”
Molly looked down at the article. “Four.”
“There must be four dresses she’d like,” Annie said. “Who is the bride?”
Molly ran her finger over the article. “The bride-to-be is Estelle and her fiancé is Darren. There are no last names.”
Tess wrote a question mark beside their names. “We know her mom is in the hospital and that the wedding is in two weeks’ time. It shouldn’t be that hard to find them.” She tapped her pen against her lips. “Who wrote the article? We should go and see them, see if they’ve got more information.”
Annie smiled. “I believe the reporter’s name is Logan Allen.”
Tess looked up from the notes she was writing. “You’re joking?”
“I kid you not,” Annie said. “Aren’t you lucky you made him pancakes this morning?”
She might have made him pancakes, but she’d also annoyed him. “I think Sally should talk to him.”
Sally shook her head. “I don’t think so. You’ve known Logan a lot longer than I have. He’s all yours.”
Tess looked at Molly.
“Don’t look at me with those big blue eyes,” Molly said. “Sometimes a woman needs to live a little dangerously. And he’s such a charmer.”
Tess knew Logan was charming when he needed to be, ruthless if it suited the occasion. She passed Molly another muffin. “Please, Molly. You like men that are charming. You could talk him into giving you the information we need to find the bride and groom.”
“I ended up married to the last man that charmed me. So no, Logan is all yours. But I will have that muffin you’re holding under my nose as a bribe.”
Tess dropped her head onto the table. “You’re all so mean.”
Sally laughed. “I bet Logan could be really mean, too. Especially if he’s got something you need.”
“Exactly. That’s why someone else needs to go.” Everyone looked at Tess with smiles on their faces.
“Okay,” she muttered. “I’ll go and see him on Monday.”
Molly put the newspaper article in the middle of the table. “Monday will be too late. We have two weeks to fin
d the bride, see if she wants our help and make sure all of the dresses fit the bridesmaids. You need to see Logan by tomorrow at the latest.”
“It’s Sunday tomorrow,” Tess squeaked. She didn’t want to see him at his home. It was bad enough having to go into his office.
“Molly’s right. We need to do something now.” Sally jumped up from her seat and picked up her bag. “Let’s check the online phone directory. There can’t be that many men called Logan Allen in Bozeman.”
Tess hoped he had an unlisted number, but knowing Sally, it wouldn’t make any difference. She seemed to know most people around town, or someone who knew someone else.
Sally put her tablet on her knees and tapped the screen. “Bingo. 86 Harry Shaw Lane. Here’s his phone number.”
She passed the tablet across to Tess and she wrote his address and phone number in her notebook. “What if he won’t talk to me?”
“Any man who buys buttermilk at five thirty in the morning and helps make pancakes won’t ignore a bride in distress.” Annie sounded so sure of herself that Tess felt a little better.
“Even if he doesn’t like you, he’ll want to help,” Sally added.
“I don’t know whether you’re trying to make me feel better or worse, but I’ll do it. I’ll go and see him today. After he’s told me the bride’s name, I’ll send everyone a text.”
Sally held her coffee mug in the air. “Here’s to making a bride’s dreams come true.”
Tess clinked her mug against everyone else’s.
She only hoped that making a bride’s dream come true wouldn’t turn into her worst nightmare.
Chapter Two
Tess parked her car outside Logan’s home. She hadn’t called him, hadn’t done any of the things a normal, sane woman would have done. She didn’t know whether she was more worried about him not helping, or what she’d do if he said he would.
As soon as everyone had left the café she’d put two muffins in a bag and driven across town. Logan’s home was different to what she’d expected. She’d thought he’d live in an apartment, a bachelor pad he could leave at the drop of a hat when he raced off to report on a story somewhere in the world.