Daughters Of The Bride by Susan Mallery Read Free Book Online

were? I tried to check him into the hotel, but he said he was staying somewhere else.”
    Quinn straightened and closed the passenger door of the Bentley. “He is. Wayne and I work best when there’s some separation between us.”
    “You’re not moving back because you think I’m getting old, are you?”
    She always did like to cut to the heart of the matter. He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I’ve thought you were old for a long time now, and not everything is about you.”
    She touched his face. “You are so full of crap.”
    “That is true.” He held out his arm. She tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and he led her back into the hotel.
    Quinn’s mother had been Joyce’s only child. He’d spent as much of his childhood with Joyce as with his mom. By the time he’d turned fourteen, his mother had abandoned him and he’d moved into the hotel permanently.
    Now as they entered the lobby, he took in the high ceilings, the crystal light fixtures and the big, curving reception desk. The furniture was comfortable, the food delicious and the bartenders generous with their pours. Add in the beachfront location in quiet Central California, and the Los Lobos Hotel had nearly everything going for it.
    At seventeen, he couldn’t wait to be anywhere but here. Now some twenty years later, he was grateful to be back.
    The dogs led the way into the bar. He and Joyce took seats at a corner table. The dogs settled at their feet.
    He was sure having a couple of canines in an establishment that served food had to violate several state ordinances, but as far as he could tell, no one complained. If they did, they were told the dogs were excellent judges of character. That tended to quiet all but the most offensive of guests. And the ones who weren’t quieted were asked to leave.
    A pretty redhead appeared at their table. “Hello, Joyce. Quinn.”
    He recognized her face from his previous visits, if not her name. Fortunately, her name tag was easy to read.
    “Nice to see you again, Kelly.”
    She smiled. “What can I get you two?”
    “I’ll have a glass of Smarty Pants chardonnay.”
    Quinn laughed at his grandmother. “I can’t believe you’re still bitter about what happened.”
    “I haven’t forgotten because I have an excellent memory. Besides, I love my new wines. I’m serving them as the exclusive house wine in the hotel.”
    A few years back, the local winery Joyce had sourced from decided to change winemakers and therefore the style and taste of their wines. Joyce had complained, the winemaker had done his own thing and, in protest, she’d gone looking for wines she liked better. Middle Sister Wines, based in Northern California, had won both her taste buds and her business.
    The chardonnay was very popular with the ladies who lunched at the hotel, with a fresh, California bouquet that had hints of citrus and pear. Another of their whites, Drama Queen pinot grigio, had been racking up awards from wine competitions around the country.
    “They’ve become a tradition,” Joyce added.
    He squeezed her hand. “You’re my favorite tradition. I adore everything about you.”
    How could he not? She was delightful, and even if she wasn’t, she was the only family he had left.
    Kelly turned her attention to him. “And for you?”
    “I’ll have the same.”
    White wine wasn’t his favorite, but when with Joyce...
    “And a cheese plate,” his grandmother added. “Quinn is hungry.”
    He wasn’t, but there was no point in arguing.
    “Right away,” Kelly told them.
    “I’ve reserved the groundskeeper’s bungalow,” Joyce said when Kelly had left. “You should be very comfortable there.”
    He knew the cottage—it was at the south end of the property, private and large. “It’s one of your most expensive suites,” he protested. “I just need a regular room for a couple of weeks while I figure out what I’m doing.”
    “No. I want you to have it. You’ll be more comfortable