Say Yes to a Mess (Dreamspun Desires Book 103)

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Say Yes to a Mess (Dreamspun Desires Book 103) Page 15

by Elle Brownlee


  He didn’t dare test the stairs leading to the half-story loft that overlooked the main floor. He wouldn’t even trust Wiley on them.

  Holt tested one with his foot. It cracked alarmingly, and the whole structure moved. Most definitely would not trust Wiley to them.

  “Ben?”

  Ben appeared, pencil stuck behind an ear and laden with an assembled counter hinge-top repair kit. Holt would miss him. They thought alike and had become good buddies over the years.

  “Yo.”

  “Please make sure this—” Holt stepped back so he could gesture at the entirety of the staircase and several feet out for good measure. “—is both blocked off and has someone here to make sure no one can access it while the pop-up is open.”

  “On it again.” Ben shook his head sadly. “The tragedies compound.”

  “They sure do,” Holt muttered as he finished his inspection of the once grand hardware store.

  “Holty? Ready, then?” Kit waved him to the counter. “Wiley is set on flowers, so don’t even worry about having a say.”

  His light quip sent a rising ooooooh through the crew as they worked.

  “Fine with me. Whatever Wiley wants and makes him happy is what makes me happy.” Holt let himself pull Wiley to him, and he wanted to kiss Wiley’s forehead and nose and the corner of Wiley’s mouth—not because of any expectation or audience—so he did.

  The ooh turned into awwwww and kissy sounds.

  “Ugh, can it,” Holt grumped but couldn’t manage to sound annoyed. He turned and headed to the counter setup and kept Wiley close to him.

  “It’s just good seeing you so happy, boss. I mean, it would have been nice to know about it before the rest of the world.” Ben raised his voice over a general murmur of agreement. “I know, I know, it was casual and then suddenly not and then absolute cone-of-silence time so no one spoiled anything.” He dropped the counter flap and waggled his brows as it swung smoothly into place. “But you could have trusted us—not with your privacy but a very special episode? Hell yeah.”

  People whistled and a few clapped.

  Holt got onto the stool Elaine pointed out and snagged Ben’s arm as he tried to retreat.

  “I’m going to commend your repair job there and leave it at that.” Holt leaned in. “Thanks, bud.”

  Ben saluted him and Wiley. “It’s snack time. Someone let me know when they’re wrapped so I can deal with the menace of those stairs.”

  Makeup freshened, lights on, and then Elaine called places. Their blocking echoed the menu tasting, Holt seated this time to Wiley’s right and Wiley standing on one side of the counter, Kit and Todd and Regina on the other.

  The flower choosing went by in a blur. Holt fought to make appropriate noises and maintain interest, but his attention wandered to critically assess various aspects and issues in the crumbling store, and whatever focus he had remaining seemed riveted to the spot where Wiley’s hip rubbed against his waist.

  He had a vague impression of pearly, pale colors—not unlike Kit’s suit, tie, and pocket square, something Kit often did—and he managed to agree peonies created impact.

  “What if the enormous guestbook table arrangement is bursting and cascading all over, like springtime in a vase. No, forget vase. A veritable bathtub of an urn. And then every other arrangement will take two flowers from the big bouquet and orchestrate this divine harmony of blousy way-too-much goodness leading to elegant restraint.” Kit propped his chin on closed fists, elbows on the counter. “Yes?”

  Regina gasped in approval. Todd slid a vase full of peonies closer to Kit.

  “I….” Holt swallowed past dryness as he scrambled for a reply and patted the small of Wiley’s back. “I like that.”

  When had he moved his hand to the small of Wiley’s back?

  “And I like the drama on the table and the restraint on our lapel.”

  Everyone shared a camera-chuckle at Wiley’s quip, and then he took hold of a peony stem.

  “May I?”

  “Be my guest.” Todd pulled it from the vase and handed it over.

  Wiley pinched it near the blossom and stuck it in one of Holt’s buttonholes. “Perfect.”

  “No, darling, you two,” Kit said and gave Wiley and then the camera a broad look. “Stunning—maybe only that, then. We’ll have to confab and decide!” He turned to the others. “Thank you so much, Regina and Todd, for blessing us with your beautiful blossoms. It’s like floating on magical clouds in here, everyone. Ugh, so great.”

  “Well, thank you, Kit. And Holt and Wiley. This is truly our pleasure.” Regina plucked another peony from the vase and handed it to Wiley.

  Todd reached for a sprig of jasmine and gave it to Kit. “But this for you, I think.”

  “Right again.” Kit breathed deeply. “Gorgeous.” He set the sprig down and then started gathering flowers, as if to plan a bouquet. “I can’t wait to finalize the designs and see them in their glory at the reception.”

  Regina and Todd made similarly busy, while Holt and Wiley held still. Rick zoomed in on Kit placing and zhuzhing flowers in a vase.

  “And we’re clear. Awesome stuff, everyone.” Elaine stepped in and flattened her hands on the counter. “We’ll have a look, see if there’s anything to retake, but I think we’re good.”

  Wiley made a musing noise. “You know, there haven’t been many retakes, but I expected them. Is that unusual?”

  “Not super-duper such for a program like this. If there were big blunders we’d go again, but Holt and Kit are consummate pros and you’re holding your own, so you’ve given us mostly clean footage to work with.” Elaine spread her hands. “That and we’re trying to keep it as authentic-seeming as possible, since viewers are getting the insider and behind-the-scenes peeks on the livestreams. If it’s too polished in the episode, they’ll start to wonder about things we don’t want them wondering about.”

  “Like authenticity of the other episodes.” Wiley nodded. “Got it.”

  “Pretty much.” Elaine flopped her binder open on the counter and jabbed at the schedule with the soft stylus of her pen. “We’re also fighting time. We have to have this cut, edited, and in the can by your wedding day.”

  “Really.” Holt glanced at Kit. “And why is that?”

  Elaine shot a puzzled look at him. “Because your episode is going to premiere without the whole wedding part, and then you’ll be getting married live immediately after?”

  “Was this in another email of Kit’s I didn’t read?” Holt asked mildly. It took some restraint.

  “Holty, my favorite eldest brother, it was in the discussion we had on the first day.” Kit widened his eyes meaningfully. “You know when… I did say it had been set in advance to have some parts aired live.”

  “I guess it didn’t sink in the wedding would be live.” He recalled livestream and behind the scenes being said but not anything else. “Why does this seem like new information to me?”

  “You’re understandably distracted and anxious to cross the finish line here. Elaine and I have handled the bits and pieces, and it’s gone fine.” Kit patted Holt’s hand that had curled into a fist on the counter. “Not much longer.”

  “And too much to do in it. Gents, I’ll see you soon. Unless you hear from me, we’re solid on today’s shoot, and I have the feeling we’re solid. And Kit—don’t forget we have some confession-booth stuff. I thought doing it with the floral backdrop here would be great.” Elaine gathered her binder and hustled off.

  “Confession sounds like a good idea.” Holt pinned Kit with a look. “We need to talk.”

  “I know. But what could I say around Elaine?” Kit reached over and patted Wiley’s hand while still patting Holt’s. “We can talk in the morning at the bakery. But babes, we’re golden. I’m looking out for you.”

  “By planning a live ceremony? How do we extricate ourselves from a live event there’s not even any invitations to or was ever going to happen?” Wiley narrowed his eyes. “I don’t rememb
er that either, exactly. Or any email Holt didn’t read with that in it.”

  “Don’t panic, Wiles. And don’t give me that look either. I know you in studious, follow-the-rules-only mode. I’ve thought our way all the way around and through this. Like always. You know there’s no one better at finding the best-case and making it appear the only ever triumph.” Kit nodded confidently, and then he leaned forward. “This part wasn’t entirely my idea. Network brass maneuvered me into this more than I could completely countermand, so believe and trust this is the toned-down version of what they envisioned to get a ratings and advertiser tie-in bonanza.”

  Holt pinched the bridge of his nose. “I feel this could have been shared. At, like, any time.”

  “And don’t you be imperious and so very reasonable.” Kit blinked rapidly and looked away. “You’re under enough strain as it is, and I’m trying to prevent any more getting heaped on your plate, in part because the less stressed, the more natural you are on camera. Even real couples find this stretch of cooing over endless loops of my layers difficult, and I’m determined to save you from as much of the drudgery as possible by heavy lifting this non-wedding that comes to an in-everyone’s-best-interests conclusion.” He looked back at them, eyes shiny with moisture. “Okay? And now see, I’m having to have an emotion. How dare. But I also have a plan, and this is going to plan, and we’ll come out smelling like, well….” He gestured dramatically. “Take your pick.”

  Holt had a sensitive and well-calibrated bullshit meter when it came to Kit. What was theatrics, what could be safely ignored, what had to be nipped in the bud, and what fell in the middle.

  This—Kit having a plan and working them toward it—was the truth.

  Holt was chagrined that surprised him.

  “Is there anything else?” Wiley twirled the peony he still held. “And I don’t mean that you’re thinking complementing suits for us and not tuxes.”

  Kit chewed his lip and then leaned in again. “Invitations have gone out.”

  “To who?” Holt crossed his arms, started to crush the giant blossom in his shirt, and had to uncross them.

  “Again—unavoidable but handled. As heavily as I’ve leaned on the whole it-was-a-secret-until-the-reveal narrative, we can’t undo that it’s known to the whole world, since you announced not only your engagement but plans to marry.” Kit held up a staying hand. “Ah, no. Listen. Unavoidable because it was part of the live ceremony package idea. There’s a fan contest attached, so they can win and attend as my plus-one, done that way so that’s on me and I’m dealing with it. Otherwise, nothing overboard, but this is why I’m chugging full speed on whipping up the greatest reception ever so there’s a rocking party we can drown our non-sorrows in after you all don’t get married as planned.”

  “Anything else, else?” Wiley was pale but composed.

  “Nope.” Kit exhaled loudly. “Really, you two mopes, I’ve gotten you this far. I will get you the rest of the way and exactly where you belong, and you’ll feel silly we ever had this conversation, because the end result will be everything you said you wanted out of this and more.”

  Holt wasn’t sure that was true, but he could tell Kit believed it.

  “Kit?” Elaine got near enough so she didn’t have to yell. “We’re ready for confessional booth. You two are good to go. Thanks for your work today.”

  “Be there in a shake.” Kit smiled and waved until Elaine turned back around. “Just keep doing like you’re doing. Learn the dance, let me handle the rest. And stay off social media—it’ll all get too much in your heads otherwise.” He wagged a finger, made a quick selection of several flowers, and walked away.

  “Tomorrow morning at the bakery,” Holt called after Kit. He removed the peony from his buttonhole and tossed it on the counter with a sigh. “What a morning.”

  “I feel like we’ve been doing this forever and it’s been a whirlwind at the same time.”

  “I convinced myself going through the motions and only the motions would do. I shouldn’t have gotten lax about my usual duties. No one in production would think it odd I’d treat my own wedding the same as the rest, more so even, ready to attend any needed fix at a moment’s notice. I am sorry.”

  Holt didn’t add how comfortable he’d gotten in the endless loop of seeing Wiley every day, filming a segment with most of his attention on making sure Wiley was fine and they looked the part, and stomping Wiley’s nimble feet before parting at the corner in anticipation of doing it all again the next day. So comfortable it hadn’t seemed important to pay attention to the details.

  “You take too much on as somehow your responsibility, and it’s not. Don’t be sorry. I could have been scouring the internet and sussed all this out but, well…. Pretending to be getting married is exhausting.” Wiley drooped into Holt. “Especially with Kit in charge.”

  He caught Wiley into him and tucked Wiley’s head under his chin.

  “What’s left?”

  “Tuxes—or suits it seems—and the cake.” Holt combed Wiley’s hair with a hand. “I think the suit fitting is when you get your surprise non-honeymoon wardrobe.”

  Wiley shook his head. “I told Kit I didn’t want it. I like my clothes and my closet is small and it would add hours to our filming day, and I thought, no.” He huffed a laugh.

  “No makeover fancy wardrobe and maybe a trip to the coast for you, not having fixed one damn thing for me, there’s a contest and packs of fans in town, invites sent out, place-settings we both hate, and we’re still going to dance lessons like we’ll be graded on it.” Holt snickered. “We’re doing great.”

  “So great.”

  “At least I got to see this old place again.”

  “You did always like it most about Odalia. That and Grandma’s cookies.” Wiley pressed closer in. “I’m going to nap, okay? Just… wake me if there’s an emergency.”

  Holt should laugh but push Wiley away and go track Kit down, get a handle on the details and every other thing he’d neglected. He should give Wiley a minute’s respite and then say all right, let’s go somewhere to strategize. He should stop mooning over the store not yet lost to decay and the feel of Wiley in his arms as the familiar rhythm and noises of production worked around them.

  He didn’t.

  “WE’LL take five, and then one more run-through and we are finished for tonight.” Sarah paused the music and cued it back to their song. “I’m staying over here to observe, so don’t forget posture and frame and taking it gently into the turns.”

  Wiley exhaled and shook his arms and hips.

  “You’re a bit, I don’t know, almost nervous.” Holt laid his hands on Wiley’s shoulders. “Is everything Kit finally had to tell us getting to you?”

  “No.” At Holt’s look he added, “Honestly. Yes, it was a lot to take in. And I admit that I decided I didn’t have to take it all in because that’s out of my hands anyway, so why overload. Freaking out won’t make this any easier. But I’m still doing okay.”

  “Not a bad approach. No regrets?” Holt rubbed his thumbs up and down Wiley’s neck. “Or at least, regrets you can live with?”

  Wiley suppressed a shiver. “I think that’s a fair assessment.” He stared at Holt’s chest, and something clicked inside as he made up his mind.

  “What’s that?”

  “That?” Wiley frowned up at Holt.

  Holt tapped his forehead. “That that, whatever just happened in here.”

  “Nothing?” Wiley said coolly and then immediately ruined it by adding, “How could you tell?”

  “We’re to the point we don’t need to cram study Carla’s list, remember?” Holt’s eyes twinkled and he leaned forward.

  Wiley tipped his chin in answer and his mouth tingled.

  Holt’s hands tightened.

  Wiley’s breath caught, and then Holt’s brows shot up and he let go to chase the awful sound his phone was making.

  “Miss Sarah, that’s the only-if-it’s-on-fire ringtone,” Holt explained as
he crossed the dance floor and picked it up.

  Wiley’s heart stuck in his throat. Had they been discovered? Exposed? Could it be the escape they needed for not marrying before they got closer to the finale of not marrying, and why did the thought of that twist Wiley’s heart the most?

  Holt read something as he walked back to Wiley, and Sarah came to join them.

  “It’s not Kit or a disaster. Everything is still just as it should be.”

  “Except with whoever sent you an it’s-on-fire series of texts.”

  “Ben has a conundrum.” Holt’s grin went from palpable relief to near glee. “He’s asking if I can please go help fix something.”

  “Well, then go.” Wiley turned to Sarah. “That is, with your permission.”

  “I think if I insisted we run the dance a final time tonight, your foot would suffer even more than usual with Holt’s mind elsewhere.” She smiled. “Wiley, get some rest. Holt, good luck with your firefighting, and if it takes you late into tonight, sleep in tomorrow.”

  “Thank you.” Holt kissed Sarah on the cheek.

  She arched one delicate eyebrow but didn’t complain.

  “And thank you,” Holt said in a deeper register and kissed Wiley on the mouth. Then he gathered the rest of his things and rushed away.

  As Wiley retrieved his own phone, he smiled at Holt’s newly arrived text.

  See you tomorrow early at the bakery. We’ve got this.

  “Good night,” he all but yawned at Sarah as she ushered him out.

  “After all of this is over, you should consider coming here for classes.” Sarah inclined her head. “You have excellent movement quality and instincts and are certainly making Holt a better partner for it.”

  “You know, I just might. Thank you.” Wiley waved and plodded down the stairs without any movement quality.

  It wasn’t a bad idea. He’d have to do something to fill the hours and days after this craziness overturned and then left his life. He didn’t think helping Carla and designing freelance would cut it anymore.

  He got to the corner and stood there staring in the direction of Fernleaf. Holt’s eager mood lift at being summoned made him smile and tore a groan of pure frustration from him. He’d either had a lucky narrow escape or had the worst stroke of fortune.

 

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