Say Yes to a Mess (Dreamspun Desires Book 103)

by Elle Brownlee

  Kit’s gaze traveled over the crowd and Wiley was pretty sure it paused on him. It could be from Holt standing there, but Wiley was sure he saw a spark of recognition. He went onto his toes and waved and, showing admirable restraint, didn’t rush over for a tackle-hug.

  Holt moved away from him and a draft cooled Wiley’s skin. He broke from ogling Kit and followed Holt’s deliberate progress to the gazebo with a brief frown.

  “He’s way better looking than I remembered. What a hunk of hunky man. I’m talking tree-climbing. Oof,” Carla said in his ear. “Of course I was just a kid, but still.”

  “I always knew.” Wiley nodded, his gaze back on Kit. He couldn’t quite believe that Kit was here and maybe they could meet and talk and catch up on old times and Kit would remember what an amazing friend he’d been and they’d laugh over memories and Kit couldn’t help but fall in love with him. Or feel some infatuation back.

  The theme music from Kit’s show swelled, and Kit did a short cha-cha to it and got everyone to clap along. Wiley swallowed as Kit danced right past him, cute and deeply dimpled in a pastel floral suit, blue skinny tie and pocket square, and matching nail polish. Kit held up both hands as he ran up the gazebo stairs and Holt gave him long-suffering but fond high-fives. A small camera crew joined the brothers onstage, and they moved as a unit, clearly used to following and being followed.

  “I meant Holt, Wiley.”

  That broke through Wiley’s reverie enough to have him give her a sidelong look. “You did? He was?”

  Carla rolled her eyes. “You’re hopeless. And blushing.”

  “It’s sunny and hot and there’s no breeze.”

  “It’s June and there’s a strong, refreshing wind coming off the river.”

  “Whatever.”

  Mayor Anderson spoke first, gushing welcomes and about the excitement the whole town felt to be graced by the famous Leydon brothers’ visit and what all they’d thrown together in preparation. Wiley ignored her in favor of watching Kit waiting in the wings, and liked how he could linger on Kit’s features and reminisce without anyone knowing or thinking it was weird.

  Kit was all motion and magnetism, even standing doing nothing while Anderson droned on. Wiley settled in to catalog every little thing but he got distracted by Holt, tall and broad and steady, calmly talking into Kit’s ear.

  Saying something that caught Kit’s attention and that Holt didn’t seem to quite like.

  Both their gazes darted toward the audience, and pinpricks danced over Wiley’s skin, because he was certain they were talking about him.

  Holt was tight-lipped and Kit had a look Wiley remembered well—it was the same as when Kit had discovered a way to wriggle out of trouble. Usually only enough wriggling to save himself and usually trouble of his own making.

  “So, without further ado, I’m honored to introduce the stars of Marry Me!—let’s give Kit and Holt a big ovation and hear what they have to say.” The mayor raised both arms and then swooped them down in a flourish as she stepped aside.

  Applause and cheers rose, and during the crescendo, Kit crossed in front of Holt and took the mic with an enormous grin.

  “Thank you, Mayor. And wow! Hello Odalia, it’s amazing to be home again.” Kit put a hand over his heart. “And it is home, no matter how long I’ve been away, especially with all of you here to greet us. Fire Chief Peters and Doc Fielding—I thought you were going to retire, ha-ha—and the old Hash It Out diner crew.”

  Kit pointed toward the individuals named as he spoke and already had everyone eating out of his hand.

  “Seeing you all here makes this announcement so much easier to do, and I can’t think of a better way to share it with the world.” Kit’s smile turned tremulous, and he let out a long breath. “We’ve teased a big announcement for weeks, and although the speculation has been pretty entertaining, it is important and personal. Something I’m glad we can share.” He half covered his mouth with his hand and leaned forward conspiratorially. “Someone even had the idea I was going to quit—spoiler alert, I’m not!”

  Ripples of laughter chased his comments, but tension had tightened around the group.

  “As you all know, I’m in the marrying business. I mean, I’ve married so many people in the last five years I’m glad monogrammed towels are out of fashion.” Kit raised a placating hand at the errant groans from the crowd. “But. We’ve come here because this time is different. Yes, we love Odalia, and yes, we’re filming a very special episode so we can celebrate with our hometown family, but one specific person brought the show here again. I’m about to marry someone wonderful. Someone incredible. Someone you all know maybe better than you do me.”

  Kit tilted his outstretched palm and curled his fingers in a beckoning gesture, and the audience, as if on cue, parted in a widening vee until it stopped at Wiley.

  Thundering blood filled Wiley’s head like white noise and he stood rooted, his field of vision telescoped on Kit on the stage, beaming at him like he was the most magical person in the world.

  Wiley flashed hot and then cold. He had no idea what Kit was talking about. He didn’t need a wedding planner. In Odalia. He had no one to marry and probably never would.

  Friends and neighbors and a few people he didn’t recognize were turned to him, some of the ladies dewy-eyed and swooning, and Kit still waited on the stage.

  Carla ground her elbow into Wiley’s side, but he could only shake his head and listen as his wits rattled around.

  “Wiley?” Holt materialized out of nowhere. “There’s no explaining, so just trust me if you can, and go with this,” he murmured and wrapped a powerful arm around Wiley’s shoulders.

  Wiley was too stunned to argue and then he was in the gazebo, awkwardly patting Kit’s back after Kit squealed and hugged him too tightly.

  “I know I’m usually the one quietly solving all the problems and meeting every grand gesture promise Kit creates in the background of any given episode, but what Kit said is true. He’s agreed to take on marrying me to my hometown sweetheart, Wiley Grey.” Holt turned from the microphone to smile, quiet and besotted-seeming, at Wiley. “Isn’t that right?”

  Kit stiffened next to him and made a short noise of annoyance. Wiley turned to Kit for guidance, but Kit ignored his mute plea, instead flashing a dark look at Holt. If Wiley hadn’t been watching Kit he’d have missed it, because after a beat Kit relaxed and grinned again. Kit pushed Wiley—not quite gently—toward Holt.

  “Hi,” Holt said after gathering Wiley close again, almost intimate but more for the audience’s benefit. He was steady and open, seeming to will Wiley into not freaking totally out and diving off the back of the stage into the river.

  Holt tightened his arm when Wiley unconsciously glanced behind them at the appealing thought. His smile was more chagrin than humor, and he closed his eyes and touched Wiley’s hairline with the briefest, softest of kisses.

  Wiley unexpectedly shivered from that spot all the way to his toes.

  Holt pulled back, stood still a breath, and then lifted his microphone.

  “Oh. My. Gosh. Are they not the most adorable thing? I can’t stand it!” Kit called, and the interruption pivoted all attention back to him.

  Wiley had the feeling Kit was telling the truth with the last part.

  “That’s right, Odalia, we’re here so I can plan the wedding of Holt and Wiley’s dreams! What do you say, folks? Marry me?”

  Everyone cheered and chanted “Marry me” several times until Kit motioned for them to quiet again.

  “And Holt—I think I know your answer, but you know the drill.”

  “Absolutely,” Holt said without hesitation. “Marry me.”

  The crowd cheered louder at that.

  “That leaves you, Wiley. Our mystery man of the hour—okay, past several months—now revealed.” Kit’s stare bored into Wiley.

  He feverishly tried to compose witty or conciliatory refusals but only managed to draw a really huge blank. Wiley considered the ri
ver again and wondered how far the current would take him. If he played it right, maybe he could wash up in a whole different state and then change his name and never look back.

  Holt rubbed a hand up and down Wiley’s back and then cupped it over his shoulder.

  He looked up into Holt’s eyes and without meaning to said, “Uh, marry me.”

  The microphone barely picked him up but that didn’t matter. Everyone hooted and music began to play, and Wiley looked into the crowd to see Carla, staring at him as wide-eyed as he felt. She planted her hands on her hips and mouthed the letters “WTF?” at him.

  He wished he had any clue.

  The rest of the announcement was a blur. Holt kept hold of him the whole time as they shifted backward so Kit could take center stage again. Wiley nodded and smiled and struggled not to think about the implications of what he’d agreed to while also obsessing over what he’d just agreed to.

  “Thank you so much, Odalia! We start filming tomorrow—that’s right, this whole episode is going to be a live event, step by step, here with you. So see you bright and early. Thanks for saying y-e-s!”

  As Kit spelled yes aloud, the audience joined in.

  Then Anderson was shaking his hand and offering congratulations, as did the others on stage. Wiley only half registered it and Holt’s grip moving to his elbow to lead him down the stairs and onto the grass.

  He just kept smiling and nodding and waving until they were safely shut into the bus, sans camera crew.

  It was very quiet all of a sudden and Wiley didn’t know what to do with himself.

  No one seemed to.

  A loud banging made them each jump.

  Kit laughed weirdly and Holt squeezed his arm, then peered outside and opened the door.

  Carla barged in and Holt got the door shut behind her before anyone else could get a peek inside. She flapped her hands in baffled protest until finally she found some words.

  “Oh my God, Wiley. What have you done?”

  He looked from Carla to Holt to Kit and back.

  “I said yes.”

  HOLT couldn’t quite believe what he’d done. He couldn’t believe Wiley had said yes.

  The crowd outside still buzzed with the news. What a homecoming. At least he’d managed to get the camera crew and Janet, their sometimes-too-on-the-spot PA, ensconced in the front of the bus and got the privacy barrier closed between them.

  Aside from Carla’s incessant tapping, inside the bus was silent and tense. She sat perched on the galley kitchen counter and kept sending speaking glances at Wiley, who still stood where Holt had finally let go to take a seat on the low bench at the back of the bus. Wiley pointedly did not answer her. Then she’d turn and glare at Holt, but he knew better than to start ahead of Kit’s building steam. He was waiting, counting to one hundred, because Kit’s silence wouldn’t last long, and it was more efficient to let him erupt before trying to make logical sense of anything.

  His terse, rushed conversation with Kit before the big announcement played on a loop in his mind. Him mentioning to Kit that Wiley—your old friend Wiley—was in attendance. Kit asking him to point Wiley out, and once he had, Kit studying Wiley speculatively before nodding with satisfaction. “This could fix things. I know how to make this work,” Kit said, with that certain gleam in his eyes that always spelled mischief, at best.

  Holt had done very quick math and then, with an impulse he couldn’t fully explain, had stepped over Kit’s idea and taken it for himself.

  He looked over at Wiley, who happened to be staring at him. Holt motioned to the bench next to him. Wiley ignored the offer. He smiled and it felt flat and wry. When Kit shot out a low breath, Holt lifted a hand and counted on his fingers down from five and then made a fist.

  “Okay? What the what was that?” Kit’s voice rose as he spoke. He stomped past Wiley, flailed a huge wave to indicate the world beyond the bus, and then stomped back to where Holt sat.

  “The start of our next episode?” Holt offered blandly.

  Kit’s eye roll encompassed his whole body. “Cute, Holty. Now answer me for real.” He paused a breath but then plowed on. “How is that the episode? How will this work? You can’t possibly be marrying….” He glanced at Wiley. “Uh, our friend.”

  “Wiley,” Holt reminded him, and didn’t miss how Wiley stiffened to an awkward full-attention stance. He also didn’t miss how Wiley’s hands twitched, and then Wiley started to move.

  Holt was up and across the bus in two long strides. He stood not quite blocking Wiley’s path—but an impediment Wiley would have to decide to get around to flee the bus—and waited. Wiley stopped fidgeting but didn’t relax. Holt could hardly blame him.

  “I’m really sorry.” Holt had nothing better to say, but it seemed a good place to start. “Come sit, have some water and we have snacks, and let me explain.”

  He gazed down at Wiley and noticed the freckles and moles from Wiley’s cheek to jaw to neck and remembered them, like he’d always known they were there, how he’d thought they looked like the Big Dipper with the North Star right by Wiley’s nose.

  A memory of being in Wiley’s house stirred in him. Wiley, friendly and with an easier laugh without Kit around, young and shy and alone in the world save for his grandma. Holt had felt a little sorry for both of them, although the peppery grandma would have resented that.

  Wiley continued to stand there, stiff and awkward and probably full of regret.

  “Please,” Holt added. He stepped back but let a hand fall on Wiley’s shoulder and, without thinking about it, dug his thumb in as a reassuring massage.

  Wiley was lean but not scrawny. Holt’s hand spanned Wiley’s shoulder, warm in the cup of his palm. Wiley’s muscles flexed under his touch, and the sensation tickled up through his arm. He pulled away as if singed.

  Holt flexed his hand and turned to search the kitchenette cupboards for the snacks he mentioned. He piled various bars and trail mix packs and small chocolates on the table bolted to the wall and separating the bench and kitchen spaces, and then got one of every drink from the minifridge.

  He opened a can of orange-flavored sparkling water and offered Wiley the cherry-flavored one. Wiley, if he remembered correctly, couldn’t resist cherry anything.

  “Carla?” he asked as Wiley continued to resist.

  She kept glaring at him but took a granola bar, a handful of chocolates, and a cola. She dropped onto the bench seat beside the table and started drumming her fingers.

  Holt didn’t exactly want her involved in this, but it was obviously too late to prevent that. She had to know the moment he’d fake-proposed that everything was a sham, so the best course was to include her. Otherwise she could go telling the world, thinking she was protecting Wiley, and that would be even worse than the current bind they were in.

  “So you’re marrying Wiley? You stealing the spotlight is how you think this should go?” Kit nabbed a protein bar and kept pacing.

  “I focused the spotlight back onto you, Kit,” Holt answered in his very reasonable tone while continuing to watch Wiley, who was a half step closer and eyeing the cherry water. He casually resituated so there was room on the bench next to him for Wiley to sit.

  Kit stopped at that. “Explain,” he said and took a pointed bite of his no-carb seaweed bar.

  “You’ll have to handle this episode on your own. The only host, the most camera time. I’ll be too busy making wedding decisions to do anything else. So, no last-minute carpentry fix or event space rework or finding a ring-bearing elephant because you promised the bride that would happen.”

  “That elephant lives a wonderful life in a reserve, and that episode raised so much money for them!” Kit made his particular little noise of impatience. He turned to Carla. “Honestly, it was the best. Did you see that one?”

  Carla, to her credit, managed to nod without hesitation. “The bride was overjoyed.”

  “Yes, she was. Which is always exactly the goal.” Kit turned back to Holt. “Maybe you
facilitated getting the elephant, I mean, you are the nuts-and-bolts guy. But it was my idea and my magic that brought Gertie’s performance seamlessly into those nuptials.”

  “Sure. I’m happy to let you have that. But it’s also way off topic.” Holt opened a bag of trail mix with deliberate slowness to let Kit get past elephants and back to the argument he was carefully framing. “On topic is we should cancel the wedding. For starters and enders, this isn’t exactly fair to Wiley, who more or less agreed under duress.”

  Kit flapped his hands impatiently. “Blink twice if Holt has taken you hostage, dearie,” he said to Wiley.

  Wiley cracked the first real smile Holt had seen since the crowd parted during the presser.

  A twinge of annoyance at their humor pinched Holt, but he said reasonably, “I step aside, you take apologetic lead and be the one to rescue everything, and production figures out another way to feature Odalia. We blame cold feet or leak that we ran off to elope because the pressure was too much and then, just never elope.”

  Holt could bear the brunt of the humiliation and bad press. Even shoulder what might become a ratings disaster. He actively didn’t care what was said about him, but Kit would, and he wouldn’t ever agree to walk away once setting this into motion in front of Odalia and everybody. So he’d take the hit. But he needed for Kit to think Kit was making the final decision about the episode, and he could tell the wheels were turning in Kit’s scheming brain. He hoped they were going in the right direction.

  Kit came to a halt and crossed his arms. He tapped his index finger in the divot above his lips in a characteristic tell that he was giving something great thought, and Holt’s expectancy rose.

  “Tempting, but no. Big absolute no.”

  Holt continued to play it cool. “I’ll make the announcement and everything. You don’t have to do any of the messy stuff,” he offered.

  “That is not what I mean. We are definitely not canceling the wedding.”

  Holt suppressed a sigh. Kit’s scheming wheels were indeed cranking, but full speed ahead was not the intention here.

  “Again, I refer you to Wiley.” Holt looked at Wiley, who sat peering into the open can of sparkling cherry water. “Coy?” he asked quietly.