A Winter Wedding: A Five Senses Novel, #1

By Gemma Brocato

With their hearts in harmony, tying the knot should be a piece of wedding cake for Pippa Sanders and Clay Mathers. 

But Fate’s a nasty mistress. One week before their special day, Pippa narrowly escapes when fire erupts in the ballroom they’d reserved for the ceremony. They’ll have to use every resource at their fingertips to implement Plan B. In this case, B stands for the barn at the Sleepy T Christmas Tree Farm. 

Hobbled by a sprained ankle, Pippa is unable to help with the preparations. In spite of the grime accumulated over twenty years, Clay is determined. He promises Pip he’ll transform the barn into an idyllic location for a winter wedding. Plus, he’ll make time to throw in a special surprise. 

What Clay doesn’t factor into his plan is the snowstorm bearing down on them. With predictions of up to two feet of snow, will Mother Nature prove too much of an obstacle to overcome?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gemma Brocato
• Release date: May 28, 2016
• ISBN: 9781533730091

Book preview

1

Pippa Sanders paused inside the door to the grand salon and cast a skeptical glance around the cavernous room. She turned to address the wedding planner, Malin Eckert, who’d followed her into the room. Tell me again, why am I planning a wedding in the largest ballroom at the most expensive resort in Granite Pointe?

Not waiting for an answer, Pip crossed the hardwood dance floor, her footsteps reverberating off Laurel Glen’s floor to ceiling windows. The acoustics were wrong for the size of the event they had planned. If they had invited two hundred guests it would have been perfect, but when she’d suggested a small, intimate affair, Clay’s relieved smile had been the only justification she’d needed to limit invitations to family, close friends, and a small number of co-workers. Their guest list topped off at fifty.

Malin deposited the box she carried onto the white-draped table closest to her. She lifted from the container a vase filled with gorgeous red roses nestled in evergreen sprays. The smile on her face lit her eyes, pushing ice blue irises closer to turquoise as she set the flowers down. We’re using the biggest ballroom in the area because you and Clay decided to get married two weeks before Christmas. This was the only venue not booked for a holiday party, Pippa.

Oh. I guess that makes sense. It’s just so large. With the few guests we’ve invited, won’t it look…lonely?

It could. But there are ways to create intimacy. Besides, I was lucky to reserve this venue. Mal fussed with the greenery, then propped her hands on her hips. Eyeing the arrangement, she readjusted one sprig of holly and leaned back. Normally, this place would be busy every night during the holidays. Renovations were supposed to be done by now, but there were issues with the contractor.

That’s because they didn’t hire the right ones. Pip’s brothers owned Kerrigan Construction and had unsuccessfully bid on the job.

Yeah, well, work is finally starting on the ballroom next week and they gave the serving staff time off. Although, who does that at Christmas? If it were me, I’d have waited another month. A lot of lost income there. Malin tweaked the position of one of the roses in the vase. The only reason I managed to book this room was because the resort manager owed me a favor. I had to twist his arm to get him to agree to pay his staff the day after the wedding to clear the space. Originally, all these lovely tables were scheduled to be moved to storage this week.

I still don’t understand what needs fixing. It’s beautiful. Huge, but beautiful. Gorgeous rosettes marched evenly across the coffered ceiling. Shimmering crystal chandeliers descended from ornate plaster medallions, casting a warm glow over pale champagne-colored walls.

The wiring is ancient and doesn’t adhere to acceptable building code. Work in the suites has stalled because the electricity isn’t reliable. They’re upgrading the whole shebang.

Is it safe?

I’m sure it is. They wouldn’t book us if it wasn’t.

Malin walked to the wide French doors overlooking the elaborate granite fountain that stood idle in the middle of the man-made pond. She pressed her nose to the glass. Granted, the amount we’re paying to rent this space is a drop in the bucket on this particular budget overrun, but they’ll take whatever extra cash they can get.

Pippa snorted, the unladylike sound bouncing off the ceiling. Jack’s mentioned on more than one occasion the contractor hired for this job is incompetent. He and Sam estimated the job fairly, but the owners went with the lowest bidder.

She joined her friend by the terrace doors. Desire to walk down the steps and investigate the fountain overrode her interest in discussing the details of her impending nuptials. Grasping the door handle, it turned, but the door didn’t budge. She exerted a little more pressure, but still no luck. I hope there’s money in the budget to plane these doors so they’ll fit properly in the jamb. This one’s swollen shut.

Malin’s chin length blond hair swung against her cheeks as she turned, a grin lighting her pixie face. I dated Barry, the manager. Apparently, the itemized list is long. He was unhappy with ownership’s choices of what got priority. Of course, electrical work had to top the list. When I called to ask about holding the wedding here, he chortled. That’s the only word I can use to describe it.

I’ll be sure to… Pippa paused. A familiar acrid odor teased her nostrils, and she lifted her nose in the air. Do you smell smoke?

Malin sniffed, walked a few paces away from the door, and sniffed again. I don’t think so.

Pippa shook her head. I definitely smell something burning. I can’t tell if it is coming from inside or out. She strode to the exit doors on the other side of the room and pushed one open. The smell was weaker in the hallway, and there wasn’t any telltale smoke. Must be outside. Shrugging, she let the heavy door swing shut, a puff of air fanning the short hair around her face.

We have a lot to review before you leave to pick up Mason and Mia. Can we get started? Malin asked.

Hmm? Oh, yeah, sure. Pippa joined her friend by the table.

We’ll only use one section of the room. That’s the intimacy thing I was talking about. The resort has shoji screens to line the back boundary once we decide where everything goes. Malin gestured to the far wall. I figured we’d use the east corner for the ceremony. With the setting sun at your backs your guests won’t be blinded.

Pippa grinned. Little courtesies count.

Musicians go over there on the north wall. Is Pointe of No Return still playing?

Pointe was a band Pippa occasionally jammed with when the regular lead singer couldn’t make a gig. For this special day, Pip would be in the audience, not behind the microphone. Although, she had a surprise planned for her guests. Instead of the traditional father-daughter dance, they’d be singing a duet. She wasn’t good at hiding secrets, so she ducked her head and toyed with the frayed corner of Malin’s cardboard box. Yes. They’ve prepared a couple of special ballads.

Unbuttoning her heavy wool coat, Pip slid it off her shoulders and tossed it over a nearby chair. The air in the ballroom was frigid. Gooseflesh rose on her arms. She hadn’t considered the possibility the heat might be off while they inspected the reception area.

It didn’t help that Clay had shown up at the house at lunch. He’d capitalized on the twins being in school to play one of his favorite games: how fast he could trick her out of her clothes. Then he took his time. Once she’d surfaced from ecstasy and looked at the clock, she couldn’t find her sweater, and only had enough time to shimmy back into her jeans and long sleeved T-shirt.

She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, a futile attempt to warm up. Pulling a chair out, she sank onto it.

Malin rapped her knuckles on the table. "Pay attention now. We have a lot