by Lucy Hawkins
“God, he’s gorgeous,” Lydia said, after the door closed behind Hank. “I didn’t realize you were in business with your boyfriend. The readers are going to lap this up!”
“Boyfriend?” Surely Alex hadn’t heard right. “Hank? No, no, no. Hank runs the inn. He’s not my boyfriend. He’s straight, and just… no.”
Lydia gave Jack a speaking glance before turning her attention back to Alex. “Forgive me, darling. My mistake. I thought I picked up on a little something-something between you two.”
“You weren’t the only one.” Jack smirked. “If you’re not interested, I might try for his number. That man is most definitely rainbow-colored.”
“Hank? Gay?” Alex scoffed, though something warm flared to life inside of him. “No, that’s—I’ve known the guy since high school.”
How was it two people who’d known Hank all of thirty seconds had so quickly decided his sexuality, as though it was as obvious as daylight? Especially when they were so obviously wrong. Hank wasn’t interested in men. He was… Hank. He’d made fun of Alex in high school for being gay. He played football and wore flannel. He’d never even seen The Notebook! Sure, they were all stereotypes, but those existed for a reason, didn’t they?
So what if Hank had looked at him with a certain warmth over the last few days? It wasn’t that out of the ordinary. They’d grown closer through the wedding planning. Not boyfriend-close, but it was safe to say they were friends now. And so what if Hank had patted him on the back earlier? He knew Alex was nervous about the interview. It was nothing more than a simple show of support.
“You’re right. What do we know?” Lydia said lightly. “Best not to speculate. Besides, this interview is about you, Alex. I’d love to know how you got into wedding planning. Was it something you always wanted to do?”
Some of the knots of tension eased from Alex’s belly. This was something he could talk about. “Oh yeah, ever since I was a kid. That’s why this wedding is so special—Hazel was right there from the beginning. We used to practice with wedding gowns we bought from Goodwill and plastic flowers.” Alex smiled at the memory. “We even made full guest lists—including seating arrangements—using every stuffed animal we had between us.”
Lydia laughed. “Sounds like it was your destiny. What was it that drew you in, do you think? Was there something that happened to make you fall in love with weddings?”
The answer pained him, in a way. “I guess it came from the idea that I would never get to have my own wedding. When I was growing up, gay people couldn’t get married. Thinking I would never get to live my fairytale was devastating, so I guess I thought the next best thing would be to live it through others.”
Nodding, Lydia hummed sympathetically. “It must have been painful, thinking there would be no perfect fairytale for you. But that law’s changed now. There’s got to be something that keeps you in this business.”
Damn, she really didn’t mess around with her questions. How much of his backstory did she already know? If she’d done her homework, she knew about the whole Grant fiasco. Knew that he’d been left at the altar. There was nothing he could offer except the truth. Maybe it would be easier opening up to the world this way—like ripping off a bandage.
“To be honest, I almost gave up on it altogether.” His voice shook, and Alex swallowed, trying to steel himself. “I was engaged once. He was everything I could have ever wanted—charming, intelligent, handsome. He made me so happy.”
Or so he had thought. He’d spent the last few days really thinking about what Hazel had said about the way Grant treated him. The more Alex went over the details of their relationship, the more he could see that even if Grant hadn’t been cheating on him, they were never a good match. Grant had wanted someone who could cook and entertain his friends, someone less prone to theatrics. Someone who wouldn’t embarrass him. As it turned out, Grant had nothing to fear. Alex was the one who’d ended up embarrassed.
“What happened?” Lydia pressed gently.
“He left me.” It was easier to say the words than Alex thought it would be. “We’d planned the perfect wedding at Burden Mansion. Thousands of white cabbage roses and pink camellias, a stunning five-tiered wedding cake… We even hired a violinist from Julliard. And then he didn’t show up.”
Both Jack and Lydia gasped, and Alex smiled grimly. Well, at least they didn’t seem to be judging him too harshly. At least, not to his face.
“How could he do such a thing?” Jack demanded.
Alex had asked himself the same thing more times than he could count. But when it came down to it, it didn’t matter how, just that he had. The email had shed a little light on what was going through Grant’s mind, but it certainly didn’t make Alex feel any better, especially now that he knew Hazel had had reservations. He needed a closure that would never come.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I thought my life was over. I thought I would never get past what he did. And honestly, I’m not sure I have.” Turning to Lydia, he squared his shoulders. “You asked me what keeps me in this business. Right now, it’s Hazel. It’s knowing I’m making her dream come true. She’s been with me through everything. She was there on the day I was supposed to be getting married. The least I can do is make sure her day goes off without a hitch.”
“It sounds like you two have quite the bond,” Lydia said.
“We do. She’s a sister to me. I want everything to be perfect for her big day. She deserves it.”
“And what happens after this?”
Alex’s breath hitched. There was no reason to be surprised. Of course this question was coming. But he didn’t know if he was ready to answer it.
“What do you mean?” he asked, feigning ignorance.
“Well, first your desire to plan weddings was because you thought you would never have your own, and now you’re planning a wedding for your best friend. What’s going to keep you going after this?”
“I—” The word came out a croak.
What was going to keep him going after this? It wasn’t as though he could do anything else. This was the one talent he had. But the thought of planning wedding after wedding when he didn’t believe in love anymore was a difficult prospect. He couldn’t say that, of course. He had to come up with some trite, sappy thing to say.
Tilting his chin up, he pasted a smile on his face. “I might not have had my happily-ever-after, but I’m going to make damn sure other people do. This is what I do. It’s what I’m good at, and it’s what I’ve enjoyed since I was old enough to read the wedding magazines at the beauty parlor. Every couple deserves a fairytale wedding, and being able to give them that? That’s what keeps me going.”
Good enough. And it hadn’t even been that painful coming up with a lie.
After a few more pictures—on the porch, by the lake, a few action shots of Alex giving orders to the florist—Lydia and Jack packed up and left, and Alex fell into a chair. God, that had been terrible. He hadn’t meant to open up like he had, especially since he’d thrown Grant under the bus. But Grant didn’t read wedding magazines. He probably wouldn’t even see it. It would be fine. It had to be fine.
Ten
Hank
The truck arrived just after five in the morning, and it was past six by the time Hank finished herding swans into the lake. They were starting to settle in now, gliding gracefully through the water. The golden reflection of the early morning sun against the water created a perfect, magical scene. Alex would love it. The full weight of that thought hit him harder than any football player he’d ever been up against.
For the second time in his life, he’d fallen head over heels for Alex.
Why else would he have gone through the trouble of finding the one person in a hundred miles willing to deliver them and then spent over an hour trying to get them into the water?
It wasn’t just the swans, though. He hadn’t needed to make the cake or spend six hours coming up with the perfect frosting, or personally show the catering staff a
round his kitchen to ensure the meal they prepared went off without a hitch. Everything he had done had been for Alex.
Making his way back to the kitchen, he poured himself a cup of coffee and stared out at the lake. So much effort for an event that wouldn’t even last half a day. In just a few hours, everything they’d been planning over the last month would finally be in motion. After tonight, he wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore. Surprisingly, it had been fun, though that was probably due to Alex’s presence. The late-night phone calls and chats over coffee, the proper cake tasting where Alex had gotten icing all over his nose. Calming him down when his stress levels reached critical and seeing him smile when things went his way. For a short while, Hank had had a purpose in his life.
Hank was sure he wasn’t the only one who had felt the connection building between them over the last few weeks. Even if that connection was only friendship, there was something there. He didn’t want it to be over once they stopped working together. With any luck, Alex would still drop by the inn. Maybe they could even hang out together away from the inn. Dinner and a movie, or—
“Good morning,” Hank put an immediate end to those thoughts as Alex entered the kitchen. Or rather, didn’t enter the kitchen. He stood in the doorway, looking smaller than Hank had ever seen him. His face was blotchy, as though he’d been crying.
“Did you do it?” he asked, his voice thick. Hank’s confusion must have shown, because Alex pointed outside. “The swans.”
Oh, shit. As Hank had let the swans loose, he had imagined Alex’s response. A bright smile and a thank you but not tears.
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I thought you wanted them. It was supposed to be a surprise. Fuck, I should have told you first. I can get them out—”
“No!” Alex crossed the room in three strides and wrapped his arms around Hank’s waist, and Hank stopped breathing. “I’m not mad. I… I’m crying because this is seriously the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me. You have no idea how much I needed this, and I know it sounds stupid, but… thank you.”
A slow smile worked its way across Hank’s face. Alex wasn’t upset. He’d done good. Carefully, as though Alex would break, he returned the hug. God, it felt right, holding him like this. Nothing else existed in that moment. Just the two of them together.
“Norma had a friend a few towns over who has a farm, and he owed her a favor. I called it in.” He didn’t mention that he knew Alex had been having a hard time finding them. Alex needed to have everything under control at all times, and admitting he hadn’t been able to control this would be difficult for him.
“They look incredible,” Alex said, pulling away. “Just like in The Notebook.”
Hank shrugged, resisting the urge to pull Alex back against him. “It was nothing, really.”
“It’s not nothing. It means a lot.”
“Well…”
Rubbing the back of his neck, Hank stared at the floor. How was he supposed to respond to the compliment? Getting the swans for Alex hadn’t been an option for him. One way or another, he would have gotten it done.
“Can we go see them later?”
“Later,” he said with a nod. “First, have you eaten breakfast?”
Over the past few weeks, Hank had noticed Alex had a horrible habit of not eating enough, no doubt thanks to Grant’s constant jabs. The man pretty much existed on caffeine and the occasional granola bar. During their third meeting, Alex’s stomach had rumbled so loudly Hank had demanded to know when he’d eaten last. Since then, he made sure to check in on him.
“No, I have too much to do. The caterers should be here soon and—”
“Sit.” Hank’s tone brooked no argument. “I made cinnamon rolls this morning.”
Today was going to be busy enough. They didn’t need Alex fainting because he’d forgotten to take care of himself. Without waiting for Alex to obey, he walked over to the covered dish and scooped one out onto a plate. It was still steaming, icing dripping down the sides.
“Let me guess,” Alex said dryly. “Those didn’t come from a can.”
Hank laughed and shook his head. “Another one of Norma’s recipes.”
Taking the plate and fork, Alex sliced into the pastry and took a bite. His eyes rolled back, and he let out an exaggerated groan. The sound went straight to Hank’s cock. God, he really had to stop thinking about Alex like this if he was going to make it through the day.
“Amazing,” Alex said. “I don’t know why you don’t forget about The Lakeside and open your own bakery.”
A small crease formed between Hank’s brows. “Norma poured her heart and soul into this place. I couldn’t just abandon it. Besides, I like cooking things other than bread and pastries. Here, I get to cook whatever I want. The guests depend on me to make all their meals.”
“Where did you learn how to cook so well? Your aunt?”
The question was innocent enough but sent an ache through Hank’s chest. “Some, yes,” he said, his words measured. “My brother taught me too, when we lived in Jacksonville.”
Alex frowned. “I didn’t know you had a brother.”
“Not many people do. We aren’t close.” Not anymore. “I haven’t talked to him in over a year.”
“Really? Why?”
Swallowing hard, Hank forced himself not to unload on Alex. He had enough on his plate as it was, with the wedding only a few hours away. “It doesn’t matter,” he said, waving a hand dismissively.
Alex shifted in his seat as the seconds ticked by. “Taylor and I aren’t exactly close either, but I don’t think I could go a whole year without talking to her, at least on the phone.”
“It wasn’t my choice,” Hank snapped, before he could stop himself. Alex jolted in surprise, and Hank let out a slow sigh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bite your head off. It’s just a sore subject.”
“So I gathered,” Alex said wryly. His fingers twitched, as though he wanted to reach out, but he thought better of it. “You know, if—”
The front door burst open with a violent crash, and both Hank and Alex jolted. A moment later, Hazel bustled into the kitchen, her arms laden with a number of small bags and an alarmingly large one that could only be her wedding dress.
“I need coffee,” she demanded without preamble.
Hank walked to the pot to pour her a mug, but Alex shook his head. “You can’t have any,” he said.
“And why the hell not? I’ve had about three hours of sleep and if I’m going to make it through the most important day of my life, you can bet your ass I’m going to have coffee.”
“You can’t,” Alex insisted. “It’s bad for the—um, it’s uh… bad for your anxiety.”
Hank bit his cheek to keep from smiling. So, they were still going to pretend she wasn’t pregnant. He didn’t blame them. If even the hint of a rumor got out, they would never be able to fend off the story-hungry reporters.
Hazel shot a glance over at Hank before looking back at Alex. “One cup. It isn’t going to hurt me. I checked.”
Having absolutely zero experience with pregnancy, Hank didn’t know who to believe. “So, am I giving you this coffee or not?” he asked, holding up the mug.
“Yes.” She dropped her bags in the closest chair and took the cup from him before anyone could protest. “Oh yeah, that’s the stuff.”
“You, uh, want any milk or sugar?” Hank asked.
“No, I like my coffee black. Oh my God, is that a cinnamon roll? I’m starving. I feel like I haven’t eaten anything in a week, but I was trying not to have to let my dress out any, and I only had a bit of wiggle room…”
Leaning against the counter, Hank watched the two of them interact. It was obvious why they were best friends. They were completely suited to one another—more alike than Alex and Taylor, even. Even though Alex had a tendency to be high-strung, when Hazel was in full panic mode, he seemed to be able to comfort her the way no one else could. And the same could be said in reverse. Alex had told him ho
w Hazel had been the one to take control the day of his failed wedding. She’d been the one to help him escape to Redwood. Hank had never been so grateful to another person in his life, save his Aunt Norma.
“…saw the swans as I was driving up,” Hazel said around a bite of cinnamon roll. “When did you manage to find them? You told me last night you didn’t have any!”
“I didn’t find them,” Alex said. “Hank did. I got here and there they were, paddling around in the lake.”
“Really?” Hazel glanced over at Hank and held his gaze, raising one perfectly-plucked eyebrow in a silent accusation. She knew.
“It was nothing,” he said quickly. “Norma had a friend who had some swans and he owed her a favor. Alex was pretty adamant he was going to have those swans. I don’t even know why. Half the ‘swans’ in the shot were ducks.”
Alex spluttered. “So, you watched it?”
Hazel eyed him expectantly.
“Of course not.” The lie came easily. “I looked up the clip on YouTube so I could figure out what all the fuss was about. For the record, never feed birds bread. It screws up their digestive system.”
“Yeah, but throwing corn isn’t exactly romantic,” Alex protested.
Rolling his eyes, Hank grinned. “Neither is a dead swan. Or duck, as it were.”
“Anyway,” Hazel said, drawing the word out. “Thank you. It means a lot to me. The swans were always a big part of my vision for my wedding.”
“Since you were a kid. Alex told me about the two of you planning your weddings.”
“Did he now?” She glanced between the two of them, looking amused.
That was a dangerous look. The last thing he needed was for Alex to find out how he felt about him, especially given everything that had happened between them. It was Hazel’s wedding day. They needed to be focused on that.
“Alex, I have the lake cottage closest to the house all set up for Hazel and Aaron, but if you wanted to have a separate space for her to get ready, I’ve set aside one of the guest rooms for her and her bridal party. You two can go ahead and take your dress on up, and I’ll send everyone else that way as they get there.”