out of place.
“Sure am. Raised both him and his brother, Tom. Tom’s been working up north for years now, but Rhys moved home a few years back.”
“Your chicken tartlets at the party were to die for,” Taylor complimented. “And I had the soup yesterday. You’re a fabulous cook, Mrs. Bullock. Whoever your boys marry have big shoes to fill to keep up with Mom’s home cooking.”
Martha laughed while, from the corner of her eye, Taylor could see Rhys scowl. Good. About time he felt a bit on the back foot since he’d been throwing her off all day.
“Heh, good luck,” Martha joked. “I’m guessing groomsman is as close to the altar as Rhys is gonna get. He’s picky.”
She could almost see the steam come out of his ears, but she took pity on him because she’d heard much the same argument from her own family. It got wearisome after a while. Particularly from her father, who’d never taken her business seriously and seemed to think her sole purpose in life was to settle down and have babies.
Not that she had anything against marriage or babies. But she’d do it on her own timetable.
“Well,” she said, a bit softer, “it seems to me that getting married is kind of a big deal and a person would have to be awfully sure that they wanted to see that person every day for the rest of their lives. Not a thing to rush, really.”
Martha smiled and patted Taylor’s hand. “Pretty and wise. Don’t see that very often, at least around here.” She sent a pointed look at a nearby table where Taylor spied an animated blonde seated with a young man who seemed besotted with her.
“Well, your supper’s getting cold.” Martha straightened. “And I’ve got to get back. See you in a bit.”
Taylor watched Rhys’s mother move off, stopping at several tables to say hello. Her full laugh was infectious and Taylor found herself smiling.
When she turned back, Rhys had already started cutting into his beef. Taylor mentally shrugged and speared a bright orange carrot with her fork.
“So,” she said easily. “How’d a nice woman like your mother end up with a pigheaded son like you?”
CHAPTER TWO
TENDER AS IT was, Rhys nearly choked on the beef in his mouth. Lord, but Callum’s sister was full of sass. And used to getting her own way, too, from the looks of it. He’d noticed her way back in the fall at the christening, all put together and pretty and, well, bossy. Not that she’d been aggressive. She just had one of those natural take-charge kind of ways about her. When Taylor was on the job, things got done.
He just bet she was Student Council president in school, too. And on any other committee she could find.
He’d been the quiet guy at the back of the class, wishing he could be anywhere else. Preferably outside. On horseback.
Burl Ives was crooning on the jukebox now and Taylor was blinking at him innocently. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to be offended or laugh at her.
“She only donated half the genetic material,” he replied once he’d swallowed. “Ask her. She’ll tell you my father was a stubborn old mule.”
Taylor popped a disc of carrot into her mouth. “Was?”
“He died when I was twenty-four. Brain aneurism. No warning at all.”
“God, Rhys. I’m sorry.”
He shrugged again. “It’s okay. We’ve all moved well beyond the shock and grief part to just missing him.” And he did. Even though at times Rhys had been frustrated with his father’s decisions, he missed his dad’s big laugh and some of the fun things they’d done as kids—like camping and fishing. Those were the only kinds of vacations their family had ever been able to afford.
They ate in silence for a while until it grew uncomfortable. Rhys looked over at her. He wasn’t quite sure what had propelled him to bring her here tonight. It had been the gentlemanly thing to do but there was something else about her that intrigued him. He figured it was probably the way she challenged him, how she’d challenged them all today. He’d nearly laughed out loud during the fitting. He could read people pretty well and she had pushed all the right buttons with Callum. And then there was the way she was used to being obeyed. She gave an order and it was followed. It was fun putting her off balance by taking charge.
And then there was the indisputable fact that she was beautiful.
Except he really wasn’t interested in her that way. She was so not his type. He was beer and she was champagne. He was roots and she was wings.
Still. A guy might like to fly every once in a while.
“So,” he invited. “Tell me more about what you do.”
“Oh. Well, I plan private parties and events. Not generally weddings. Right now, in addition to Callum and Avery’s details, I’m going back and forth with my assistant about a New Year’s party we’re putting together. The hardest part is making sure the construction of the giant aquariums is completed and that the environment is right for the fish.”
“Fish?”
She laughed, the expression lighting up her face. “Okay, so get this. They want this under the sea theme so we’re building two aquariums and we’ve arranged to borrow the fish for the night. It’s not just the aquariums, it’s the marine biologist I have coming to adjust conditions and then monitor the water quality in the tank and ensure the health of the fish. Then there are lights that are supposed to make it look like you’re underwater, and sushi and cocktails served by mermaids and mermen in next to no clothing.”
“Are you joking?”
She shook her head. “Would I joke about a thing like that? It’s been a nightmare to organize.” She cut into her slab of beef and swirled it around the pool of gravy. “This is so good. I’m going to have to do sit-ups for hours in my room to work this off.”
He rolled his eyes. Right. To his mind, she could gain a few pounds and no one would even notice. If anything, she was a little on the thin side. A few pounds would take those hinted-at curves and make them...
He cleared his throat.
“What about you, Rhys? You said you work with horses?” Distracted by the chatting now, she seemed unaware that she was scooping up the mashed potatoes and gravy she’d been diligently avoiding for most of the meal.
“I work for Ty out at Diamondback.”
“What sort of work?”
“Whatever has to be done, but I work with training the horses mostly. Ty employs a couple of disadvantaged people to help around the place so I get to focus on what I do best.”
“What sort of disadvantaged people?” She leaned forward and appeared genuinely interested.
Rhys finished the last bite of Yorkshire pudding and nudged his plate away. “Well, Marty has Down’s syndrome. Getting steady work has been an issue, but he’s very good with the animals and he’s a hard worker. Josh is a different story. He’s had trouble finding
