Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Fernsby hung up, thinking, Bollocks to the cake. He had important things to do, like bringing Ava and Ransom into closer and closer contact. Thank goodness he’d put that little bug in Dane’s ear about asking Ransom to help Ava with her catering.
Pure genius. But then, pure genius was his forte. Especially when it came to matchmaking.
* * *
Ransom’s phone rang at noon the following day. His heart wanted to leap right out of his chest, just as it had done so many times over the past few days that he couldn’t even count them anymore.
He picked up immediately. “I’ve got Gideon and Rosie covered.”
“I wanted to see how you’re doing,” Ava said. “I put such a huge burden on you.”
It depended on the meaning of huge. Too much? Not for him. Especially when he was doing it for Ava.
Leaning back in his office chair, he crossed his ankles on the desk. “It pays to be in the business and able to call in a few favors.” He downplayed it all—he’d been on the phone late into the night and up again early to call in every favor anyone had ever owed him—but he was getting it done. “Do you want me to tell you the menu?”
“No, no, no. I can’t know before the bride and groom. Besides, I’d like to be surprised too.”
And oh boy, would she be surprised. He couldn’t wait to see her face. If she understood what he’d done.
“I can’t thank you enough for doing this, Ransom.”
“You know I’d do anything for the Mavericks.” And most especially for her.
“But I can still be amazed that you pulled it all together so fast.”
“In my place, you’d have pulled it together too. I know you, Ava.”
She was silent a moment. He heard her swallow. “Thank you.” After another beat of seemingly embarrassed silence, she added, “I’ll let you get back to it.”
“See you tomorrow.” But she was gone before he’d finished.
His heart beat against his ribs. Pound, pound, pound. Because now Ava would owe him a favor.
And oh, how he longed to call it in.
Chapter Thirteen
Ava had yet to see Ransom at the wedding. Thank God.
He’d done a fabulous job, and she was afraid her gratitude to him for saving the day might weaken her resolve.
The Sunday afternoon wedding was held in the backyard of Bob and Susan Spencer’s Portola Valley home. Attendance wasn’t a massive spectacle, just family and a few friends—some of the foster kids Gideon mentored; Zach, one of his buddies from the army, and his family; Ernestina Sanchez, mother of Karmen, the woman who’d given Gideon that amazing Miguel Fernando Correa painting. They were all friends who were important to both Gideon and Rosie.
When the Mavericks had moved the Spencers into the house less than a year ago—transplanting their parents from Chicago—they’d added a large deck and a flagstone patio around the pool. Now, for the wedding, they’d cleared more of the lot; built a gazebo with a raised floor large enough to accommodate the ceremony and the dinner’s head table; planted shrubs, flowers, and a lawn for the chairs and tables; and laid down a temporary dance floor.
The sky was a cloudless blue and the weather gorgeous, but then, late September often was in the Bay Area. Ransom had set up a pre-ceremony cocktail hour with a mobile bar cart serving champagne, punch, and fruit-infused water along with canapés, blackened-fish lettuce wraps, shrimp cocktails, and tiny quiches. Ava couldn’t resist trying one of each. After all, they were only a bite.
And they were to die for.
She’d then snagged a glass of champagne, and now she stood with two of her brothers, Troy and Dane, and, of course, Cammie. Dane was never without Cammie.
Nor was he without Fernsby, who’d made the wedding cake with Gabby. Amazingly, they were both still alive. At least at this point.
It was a terrible faux pas, but they were all talking about Clay’s date.
Fernsby said the unthinkable. “Well.” He cleared his throat. “She is rather…” He paused dramatically. “Well endowed.” His lips stretched around the word.
Clay was deep in conversation with Sebastian Montgomery, probably about some media platform, since media was what they had in common. His date seemed to be not-so-patiently waiting, her foot tapping, her gaze roaming as if she’d been expecting to meet some huge celebrities. The Mavericks were certainly celebrated and huge, but they weren’t famous actors or sports stars.
Cammie frowned. “You can’t talk about a woman’s personal assets like that, Fernsby.”
Fernsby, tall and lean—one might even say spare—merely raised an eyebrow. “But they aren’t something you can ignore, Camille. I don’t believe she wants them to be ignored. Which is why I am giving them their due.”
Ava couldn’t help chuckling. He was probably right about that.
“I don’t suppose he’s terribly serious about her.” After a pause, Fernsby added, “Is he?”