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I pack up Hunter’s things and send him to go play. Will and Izzy are done with her work when she mentions she has a history project due next week. Will convinces her to get a start on it now, and she doesn’t complain.
With those two doing her work, I ask Alexa to play songs by Coldplay, keeping the volume low for background music. It’s still early, so I take the free time and open my laptop.
Jillian and I have seven weddings coming up next month, and I have three design proposals to submit to prospective couples. I start making a vision board on my computer of a wedding for clients who want to marry at an old barn in the country. I have a drawing of the tent we’ll raise and the room set up in my sketchpad with a slew of images on my digital pin board. As Chris Martin croons about sparks flying, I’m lost in thought, envisioning the couple dancing under the stars and leaving the reception to a walkway of sparklers being lit by their friends and family, wishing them a lifetime of congratulations.
A strong hand glides along my back, snapping me out of my daydream.
Will slides into the seat beside me and leans in to look at my design. “This is how the master creates her vision.”
“It’s how thisnoviceworks on her ideas.”
“According to Allison, you are the queen of weddings. She raved about you for months. Of course, I didn’t know you wereyou.” Will must sense my trepidation at the mention of Allison’s name, so he clears his throat. “What is this circular thing in the center of your drawing?”
I tilt my head. “That is a chandelier I’d like to have installed inside the barn.” There’s an open tab on my web browser. I click it, and a website with a chandelier I can rent for five hundred dollars from a vintage marketplace is on display.
“That’s amazing. You can install that just for the day?”
“As long as there’s electricity and a ladder, I can do pretty much anything.”
He holds my gaze for a moment. “I bet you can.” His breath is long, deep, and then his eyes flicker to my lips before he jolts back to the computer and taps on the screen. “These are all your designs?”
“Some. Others I took from the internet and know I can re-create it. The wedding is on a farm, so I want to incorporate outdoor elements on the inside. The centerpieces will have soft hues from roses, peonies, and hydrangeas as well as artichokes and pomegranates to make it earthy and warm.”
“You could set bowls of figs and plums on the table. So long as they’re in season,” he suggests, and I laugh out loud at his comment. He widens his eyes. “Are you mocking me?”
I turn and place a hand on his chest. “Absolutely not. I’m sorry. That was the wrong reaction. I’m actually impressed. I laughed because it was, well, unexpected.”
What’s also unexpected is the feel of his heated chest beneath my hand and his heart thumping beneath the cotton of his shirt.
I move my hand and run it through my hair. “That’s a great idea. Any more I might want to add?”
“A signature drink that people actually like. Every wedding has one fruity cocktail of shit alcohol that no one wants.”
“What would be a cocktail of your preference?”
“You want earthy, so go with a bourbon.”
“That’s a cool idea. Though we usually serve the bride and groom’s favorite drink as a signature cocktail.”
“Well, if it were my wedding, I’d want whiskey.”
“Note taken,” I state and then click around my laptop, not really looking for anything in particular.
His comment reminded me of the wedding I was going to design yet didn’t because it was called off. Scrunching my nose, I lean back in my seat, which only puts me further into his arm.
“I have your wedding notes in my head. White everything. Modern. Clean—”
“Exactly what I didn’t want.”
“I had a feeling.”
“What would you have planned for me?”
A wedding for Will Bronson. I wouldn’t know where to begin. I wouldn’t know where to end. I have so many things I think I know about him, yet he continues to surprise me with every action.
“Can I get back to you on that?” I ask softly.
“Yeah,” he says with a knowing grin and nudges my sketchpad. “Is this something you always wanted to do?”
