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“I came in the back door before I surprised you at the front. Gus is taking a break before dinner. But everything is ready, as you can see.”
Caitey peeked at the wedding cake displayed in all its glory on the large worktable. It was frosted and—
“You brought the flowers I needed for the cake, too!”
The beautiful glass wedding topper had been affixed, and the gorgeous wedding cake was ready for serving.
“Smells good in here,” Marcus murmured, studying the interior of the fridge while Caitey looked over his shoulder.
All the salads were prepped and ready for serving. The filet mignon beef was marinating on the kitchen counter and ready for grilling. A chocolate fountain was prepped and ready to be plugged in for melting—several types of fruit were sliced and wrapped in plastic to hold under the chocolate fountain waterfall.
“Wow, these rolls smell amazing!” Caitey exclaimed, glancing under the towel of a large bowl stacked with fluffy homemade rolls.
Even the dining room table had already been laid with fancy wedding china, gold-rimmed water goblets, real silver cutlery, and champagne chilling on ice.
“Gus has been mighty busy,” she said with a small laugh.
“Yeah, he’s pretty amazing.”
“What time is it?” Caity asked,whirling about to find the clock on the wall reading four-thirty. “I need to get upstairs to Jenna and see what else she needs before the wedding march begins!”
Marcus grasped her hand and led her to the table. “You need five minutes off your feet and a snack to fortify your strength. I’ll bet you never ate lunch today.”
“Oh, I had a quick one, compliments of Gus, the most amazing man with endless energy. But when I get engrossed in my work, the hours fly by, sometimes too fast.”
“When you love what you do, that’s the best part. When it’s time for camera checks, the hours disappear like magic,” he said, giving her a sly sideways glance. “It even makes me act a little weird and stalker-like when a beautiful woman comes into my binoculars’ view.”
Caitey gave him a playful slap on the arm. “You’re incorrigible, Mr. Stirling.”
“Yep, that I am!” he agreed. “Right now, sit down while I reveal my surprise.”
She gave him a quizzical look. “I can’t imagine what you’re talking about . . .”
Marcus picked up a tightly secured brown bag with a logo and set it down on the kitchen table. Then he sat beside her, pulling up a chair. “We still have a long time until dinner, so while I was in the village picking up flowers, I brought you this.”
He opened the bag and reached in to pull out a Lofty-sized Coffee Loft Styrofoam cup. When he pulled off the lid, steam curled up from the hot cocoa.
“It used to be piled high with whipped cream, mini marshmallows, and shaved bits of chocolate, but they already melted.”
“Youdidn’t,”Caity whispered in shock.“You brought me a gift! My favorite!”
“And . . . ta-da, one for me,” he added with a laugh. “Enjoy a few minutes off your feet.”
“Oh,yum,”Caitey murmured when she took the first sip.“The Coffee Loft makes the best hot cocoa ever. Jenna says they have a secret recipe.”
The room went quiet momentarily while they sipped their cocoa and gazed at each other. Caitey tried not to feel self-conscious every time Marcus caught her eyes and gave that sly, sexy smile of his.
But oh, my, the man was sending alarm bells of attraction over every square inch of her skin, from her head to her toes.
“Hey,” he said after a moment, “I’m not sure I ever heard if your parents made it here.”
“They’re in a hotel in Santa Barbara. They tried to drive up this morning, but of course, they were turned away. I hope the road will be plowed by tomorrow so they can visit.”
Caitey saw genuine concern in Marcus’s eyes. “It must be strange not to have them here.”
“It is, especially when my father flew across the Atlantic for Jenna’s wedding. I haven’t seen them in over a year, not since two summers ago when I went to Portugal and spent two weeks sightseeing and shoppingwith my mom. At least I’m here with Jenna, my Aunt Vicki, and Uncle Alex.” She paused and stared down into her cocoa.
“Is your Coffee Loft cocoa speaking to you?” Marcus teased, reaching out to lift her chin so she would look at him. “Or maybe it’s those disappearing miniature marshmallows calling your name . . .”
