Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
He’d always known Gideon was a good guy, but hearing how he coddled his wife and saw to her after-baby cravings was… precious.
That gave him a brilliant idea. Leaning forward, elbows on his knees, he asked, “So why don’t you all tell me your favorite things.”
Kelsey Collins laughed and quickly covered her mouth. Then, as if her favorite things were sinful, she dropped her hand to say almost in a whisper, “I adore those Swedish meatballs from IKEA. I’ve been known to gorge myself on them.”
“Egg rolls with sweet-and-sour sauce.” Charlie Ballard still had that newlywed glow about her. Since she was a famous sculptor with a well-known name, she’d decided to keep it rather than change to Montgomery when she married Sebastian.
Lyssa Spencer’s eyes seemed to glitter. “I craved chocolate fondue. With marshmallows and graham crackers, like s’mores.” She sat back in her chair with an enchanting giggle. “But Cal ate more of it than I did.”
Cal Danniger and Lyssa, though they had little Owen together, would be getting married in a few short weeks.
Harper gasped. “Oh my God, cheese fondue. With those little pieces of French bread.” She slapped playfully at Lyssa. “Now you’ve made me crave it.”
He didn’t know how he would get a chocolate or cheese fondue set up. But the Brie with red pepper jelly, egg rolls, Swedish meatballs? All definitely doable.
He’d been expecting things like caviar or white truffles or foie gras or Kobe beef. But their favorites were more like comfort food. “What else, ladies?”
Ari raised her eyebrows, getting everyone’s attention. “You’re all going to think I’m crazy. But I love a grilled cheese.”
The entire table burst into laughter.
Paige nodded, smiling. “I want pizza. With everything on it except anchovies. There’s a place only a couple of miles from the house that makes pizza to die for.”
Troy laughed then. “You’re all making my mouth water.”
But what would Michaela’s favorite things be?
Susan Spencer opened the kitchen door and stepped out onto the deck. With a beaming smile, she proclaimed, “I have the perfect menu for you.”
He only hoped it wasn’t something he’d need to ask Fernsby’s help to prepare.
Oh my goodness. Flo wanted to jump off the couch, turn on some music, and spin like she was in Dirty Dancing, another favorite romantic movie, even if it was an oldie.
Troy Harrington wanted to wine and dine her beautiful daughter. She’d heard about him and all the other Mavericks and Harringtons from Susan Spencer. Troy seemed perfect for Michaela. He’d been so attentive at the gallery, as if there’d been no other woman there but her.
And what kind of man would ask his pseudo-mom—Susan—for advice about a special picnic made up of a woman’s favorite foods?
Only a man who desperately wanted to impress.
Only someone very special.
Exactly the kind of man Michaela deserved.
They always said the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. Flo hoped she’d given Troy the way to her daughter’s heart. Even if it was through her stomach.
Then her phone rang. And it wasn’t Susan. Or Michaela.
Flo’s heart fluttered as she answered. “Hello, Walter. I’m so glad you called.”
Chapter Eleven
Michaela parked at the marina in Sausalito. Troy had offered to pick her up, but she didn’t want this to seem like a date. Besides, sitting cocooned in his car with his scent surrounding her—especially after Friday night—might make her a little bonkers. And she had to be sharp around him.
This marina offered dedicated slips that could accommodate vessels as large as the yacht she had in mind for Troy. You couldn’t moor a 150-foot yacht just anywhere.
She was both excited and wary. Since the moment she’d agreed to a cruise with him two days ago, her stomach had been filled with butterflies. Or maybe, where Troy Harrington was concerned, they were tadpoles ready to turn into jumping frogs.
She saw his sleek luxury vehicle in the lot. But where was he?
She found the slip number she’d been looking for and headed down the dock.
Naturally, Troy was already charming the captain and his first mate.
A wicker basket dangled from the mate’s hand, and as Michaela approached, she heard him say, “I’ll take care of it for you, sir.”
Take care of what? What was Troy up to?
She thanked her lucky stars there were steps to get aboard and not a ladder she’d have to climb in her tailored suit.
Both the captain and Troy headed straight to her, but Troy got there first, taking her hand as he helped her onto the deck. And not letting go when he should have.
She had to shake the man off. Surreptitiously, of course. She didn’t want the captain to see.
“Michaela, this is Captain Sprague.”
Tall and elegant in his crisp white captain’s uniform, the man was in his mid-fifties, his hair an attractive silver gray.
“It’s so good to meet you, Captain,” she said, shaking his hand.