would be a bigger job than he’d originally thought.
She glanced up, her gaze sharp. ‘Is that going to be a problem?’
‘Not if I hire a good security firm.’
‘Let me know if you’d like any recommendations.’ She led him across a bridge spanning a large pond. ‘Officially the park is open from seven a.m. to seven p.m.’
He stared out at the expanse of water, noting several black swans sitting on the edge of the far bank. ‘Is this the lily pond?’
‘No, it’s the duck pond.’
He glanced down into the water and blinked when a tortoise poked its small head out of the water. ‘That...’ He halted to point. ‘That was...’
She glanced over the railing. ‘A Common Longneck Tortoise. The pond is full of them.’
Hands on hips, he completed a full circle, taking in the surroundings. Plum Pines was undeniably pretty, and the native forest rising up all around them undeniably grand. He’d visited some of the most exotic places the world had to offer and yet he’d somehow missed experiencing what was in his own backyard.
‘I can’t believe we’re in the middle of the second largest city in New South Wales. It feels as if we’re in the middle of the bush.’
‘Yes, we’re very privileged.’
That was a rote reply if he’d ever heard one—trotted out for the benefit of visitors. What did Mia really think of the place? Did she love it or loathe it? Her lips were pursed into a prim line that had him itching to make her smile again.
‘You’ll need to apply to the council for an event licence that’ll allow the wedding to extend beyond those hours. There shouldn’t be any issue with that, though.’
She moved off again, with her no-nonsense stride, and after another glance at where the tortoise had disappeared he set off after her.
‘Have you had any weddings that haven’t extended beyond seven p.m.?’ All of the weddings he’d ever attended had kicked on into the wee small hours.
‘There’s been a trend for morning weddings with lunchtime receptions. So, yes.’
She was so serious. And literal. He found himself starting to laugh.
She glanced at him, a frown crinkling her forehead. ‘What’s so funny?’
‘You’re not so good at small talk, are you?’
Her face fell and she stuttered to a halt. ‘You want small talk?’
That made him laugh again. ‘How do you enforce the seven p.m. closing time?’
‘We close the gates to the car parks. There’s a hefty fine involved to have the gates opened. Our people, along with your security firm, will have a list of your guests’ number plates so they can come and go as they please.’
‘Right.’
‘And, as Plum Pines is in the middle of suburbia, we don’t get much foot traffic or many homeless people looking for a place to put up for the night.’
That was something, he supposed.
She consulted her notepad. ‘Do you know how many guests the bride and groom are planning to invite?’
‘Carla informs me that she wants “a small and intimate affair”.’
That frown crinkled her brow again. ‘Do you happen to know what your sister’s idea of “small” might be?’
‘I wouldn’t have a clue.’ He had no idea if Thierry came from a large family or not. The other man had closed up like a clam when Dylan had asked him about them. ‘I can’t say that I know what she means by “intimate” either.’
Mia nodded. ‘I think we can guess that fairly accurately—it probably includes fairy lights strung all around the marquee and surrounding trees, white linen tablecloths with centrepieces involving ivy and candles, vintage china and a string quartet.’
‘You don’t sound like you approve.’
She swung to face him. ‘Mr Fair— Dylan. It’s not for me to approve or disapprove. It’s Plum Pines’ job to help Carla plan the wedding she wants.’
‘But—’ He broke off.
‘What were you going to say?’
He read the thought that flashed through her eyes—Gordon Coulter promised nothing would be too much trouble.
‘Dylan, I’ll do my best to deliver whatever is needed.’
Her moss-green eyes stared back at him, earnest and steady, and he found himself needing to pull a breath of air into cramped lungs. ‘I need you to be as committed to this wedding as Carla.’
‘I’m committed—I can promise you that.’ Her teeth worried at her bottom lip. ‘But that’s not what you meant, is it? You want me to be exuberant and...and bouncy.’
He winced, realising how absurd that sounded when uttered out loud. He just wanted to see her smile again. That was what this was all about—and it was pure nonsense on his part.
He rubbed his hand across his nape. ‘I think of weddings and I think of joy and excitement and...and joy.’
He wanted Carla’s life filled with joy—not just her wedding. A fist tightened about his chest. If Thierry hurt her he’d—
Mia moved into his field of vision, making him blink. ‘There’s a lot of behind-the-scenes work that needs doing to make a wedding successful.’ She pointed her pen at him. ‘Joy and excitement are all well and good, but I figure my job is to keep a level head.’
A level head? That was exactly what he needed.
‘Don’t you believe someone can be quietly enthusiastic?’ she asked.
‘Of course they can. I’m sorry.’ He grimaced. ‘It’s the bride who’s supposed to go loopy, right? Not her brother.’
One of those rare smiles peeped out, making his heart thump.
‘You’re excited for her.’ Too soon she sobered again. ‘I’m naturally quiet. It doesn’t mean I’m not invested.’
‘Whereas I’m naturally gregarious.’ It was what made him so good at his job. ‘I sometimes forget that not everyone else is.’
‘Do you still want to see the lily pond?’
‘Yes, please.’ He spoke as gravely as she did. ‘My seeing the lily pond is not dependent on you being exuberant.’
He could have sworn that her lips twitched—for the briefest of moments. It sent a rush of something warm and sweet surging through his veins. He was glad he’d had a chance to meet her on his own. Carla had spoken of her often enough to make his ears prick up. It had been a long time since Carla had made a new female friend.
The question he needed to answer now, though—was Carla more than just a job to Mia? He’d give his right arm for Carla to have a girlfriend with whom to plan her wedding. And whatever the two of them dreamed up—schemed up—he’d make happen.
When he glanced back he found Mia staring at a point beyond him. He swung around to see an emu enclosure...and an emu sitting on the ground in the dirt. He glanced back to find her chewing her lip. ‘Is that emu okay?’ They did sit down, right?
She hesitated. ‘Do you mind...?’ She gestured towards the fence.
‘Not at all.’
‘Hey, Charlie—come on, boy!’ Mia rattled the fence and the emu turned to stare, but when he didn’t otherwise move she pulled out her phone. ‘Janis? It’s Mia. Charlie is looking decidedly under the weather. Can you send someone out to check on him?’ Her lips pressed together as she listened