Flo was again moved to awe over the luxury of the dining area, the living room, the bar lounge. And the magnificent cabins below with their own deluxe appointments. She marveled over the sundeck, the pool, the hot tub, and the deck in the stern where Troy had fed Michaela all her favorite foods.
And where he’d kissed her for the first time.
If this were a romance movie, it would have been a swoon-worthy moment, with all the accompanying sexy, sensuous looks flashing between them.
Michaela didn’t dare look at him.
To hide her inner turmoil, she asked, “Where’s Lyssa? I thought she’d be getting ready down here.”
Troy pointed in the direction of the hotel. “She’s in the bridal suite, along with all her bridesmaids. The entire wedding party is staying there.” Then he winked. “That’s what the red carpet is for, to create the illusion of an aisle.”
Flo clasped her hands to her chest. “That is so perfect.”
Then Michaela saw it and couldn’t help herself. “Oh my God, you installed a diving board.”
Troy beamed as though she’d given him high praise and pointed to a control panel. “It can be raised and lowered to different heights.” His gaze raking her, he added, “Since you’re wearing a bathing suit, I hope you’ll dive with me.”
She wagged a finger in his face. “Oh no. I’m not going in that ocean.”
Flo added, “Michaela doesn’t like creepy ocean things.”
Troy grinned. “She’s told me. But I’m going to work on her.”
He already had worked on her right here on this deck, kissing her until she couldn’t breathe.
Troy didn’t comment on her flushed cheeks, thankfully glancing at his watch instead. “Speaking of Lyssa, I should get you two ladies seated. The wedding will be starting soon.”
As they headed back to the steps, her mother asked, “Where’s Walter? I haven’t seen him yet.”
“Oh, he’s here, believe me,” Troy said. “He wants to make sure everything is flawless for the day. I’m sure you’ll see him later.”
Helping the ladies down the steps, he once again took both their arms, leading them back down the red carpet to the chairs, which were now almost full of guests. He guided them to two empty seats a few rows back, but instead of leaving, Troy plunked down in the chair next to Michaela.
Aghast, she said, “Don’t you have to do something on board for the wedding?”
“It’s all taken care of.” Then he leaned close, his breath warm and sweet against her ear. “Don’t worry, I won’t try to ravage you in front of everyone.”
Her heart tried to hammer its way out of her chest.
Just when she thought she might melt into him, Walter appeared at the end of their row, dressed in golf slacks and the required Hawaiian shirt, his with a flamingo print. He stuck out his hand, and Troy shook it. “Thanks for saving me a seat,” he said.
Michaela realized there was an empty chair beside her mother.
Walter gave Michaela a joyful smile. “I’m so glad you could come.” A moment later, his gaze fell on her mother, and suddenly it was as though no one else in the world existed. Sidling along in front of them, he lowered himself into the seat next to Flo and took her hand in his, lavishing her skin with a very sweet kiss.
Her mother’s smile was like a flower opening in the sun. Michaela’s heart seemed to stop, and her mind could register only one thing. Her mother was in love with Walter Braedon. And even more, he was in love with her.
There wasn’t another moment to think as, incredibly, Fernsby escorted Susan Spencer down the aisle. “That’s Lyssa and Cal’s little boy Owen in her arms,” Troy murmured.
Susan wore a beautiful beaded cover-up made of something white and gauzy, her flowered one-piece bathing suit visible beneath it, and sparkling sequins decorated her sandals. Owen had on tiny board shorts with a terrycloth jacket and hat to keep the sun off his delicate skin.
But Fernsby was, well, Fernsby, in a black suit identical to the one he’d worn at the gallery and the book signing. Though Michaela couldn’t say she knew him well, she couldn’t imagine him wearing swim trunks or a Hawaiian shirt. Then she saw a flash of color. Fernsby had made a small concession to beachwear in the form of a tie with beach umbrellas on it.
With great dignity, he seated Susan Spencer in the first row, the empty space beside her for her husband Bob after he’d walked his daughter down the aisle. As Fernsby returned, Michaela couldn’t stop a small gasp.
Grabbing Troy’s arm, she hissed, “Oh my God, he’s wearing socks with beach umbrellas that match his tie.”
Troy stared aghast at Fernsby as the man headed to a seat somewhere behind them, making some weird eye movement.
