The Stand (Wishing Star Book 3)

by Lila Kane

  Jillian was the only one organized enough to keep it all together.

  Anna set out the cake, which had been baked yesterday and was ready for her to decorate. Easy and simple this time. Just buttercream frosting on three layers with raspberry filling and a topping of live roses she’d add before the reception.

  “Can you remind Poppy to bring the roses for the cake?” Anna asked her sister as she prepared to leave.

  Jillian poised her stylus over her tablet. “What color?”

  “Isn’t it in there?” Anna peered over Jillian’s shoulder to see the tablet. “Along with the key to world peace?”

  “No making fun of my tablet. Yes, it has everything in here.” Her lips curled. “Even your deepest, darkest secrets. So you’d better be nice.”

  Anna rolled her eyes and stirred the frosting. “Red. Just red for the roses.”

  Jillian made a note, and then smiled. “Perfect.”

  And it would be. Perfect. Everything Anna’s wedding should have been. Especially with Jillian helping to plan it.

  Everything had been perfect. Everything but the groom.

  As Jillian walked out, Anna turned up the music and sang to cover her hurt while she frosted someone else’s wedding cake.

  {} {} {}

  Beckett Hansen drove the golf cart, balancing his insulated mug of coffee in one hand while he dodged dips and ruts on the back road from the main house. He enjoyed the spackle of sunlight through the tall trees and the hint of a breeze that stirred the air.

  Damn, it just didn’t get any nicer. One of the reasons he never thought of leaving Park Creek. He got mountains, trees, heat in the summer, snow in the winter, and all his closest friends and family.

  He’d also grown up right here on the Hansen property, with his parents and dogs and cats and pretty much any animal a young boy could want as a pet.

  The rest of the property housed a large barn, the old homestead that now belonged to the county, gardens, and various other attractions his parents had set up over the years. Like the pumpkin patch open to the community every year. Or the giant treehouse that kids liked to play in during the summer. And all the goats and chickens they could feed.

  Beckett slowed for some geese on the gravel road. The main house where he lived was far enough away, of course, that he had privacy. Privacy he didn’t really need. He liked being around people. Even more so since his parents had decided to buy an outrageously large motorhome and tour the United States. Permanently.

  He picked up speed again after the geese were clear. At least he still had the Kellers. His family and theirs had been close ever since he’d been born. And Beckett, as an only child, spent most of his time tagging along with the five Keller kids, wishing they were his siblings.

  And with Anna…wishing there was more.

  Beckett parked the cart at the back of the barn, not surprised to find Jillian had already arrived. It was barely 7:00, but with the rest of the flowers to put up, the tables to set, and catering to accommodate, there wasn’t time to waste.

  He walked inside the barn and found Jillian with her tablet in hand, staring at the table chart through her thin-rimmed glasses. She murmured a hello and made a few changes with her stylus.

  Poppy stood on the other side of the barn where the head table sat under a high loft.

  “Morning, Beckett,” she said, flashing him a smile.

  She was the complete opposite of Jillian, with a billowy dress on, a flower in her hair, and an easy laugh. Jillian had on a dark suit with heels that made him grimace. How did she walk in those? Anna hardly ever wore heels and she looked more comfortable. Carefree. Except the last several months since she’d broken it off with Tom.

  Since then, he’d seen her less than he liked. And what he’d seen made him want to kick the shit out of Tom. He’d hurt her, and Anna had the tired circles under her eyes to prove it.

  “Lost in your thoughts?” Jillian murmured from next to him without even looking up from her tablet.

  He jerked his attention to her, frowning. “No.”

  “She’ll be here soon.”

  “The bride?”

  This time Jillian did look up, and an amused smile curved her lips. “Anna.”

  “I don’t—” He broke off and tugged a hand through his hair. “What are you talking about?”

  “It’s pretty obvious. More roses.”

  “Excuse me?”

  She waved her arm toward the end of the table and said to Poppy, “Two more vases, I think. It’s not balanced.”

  Poppy took more arrangements from her bin and set them on the table, twisting them and organizing the blooms inside.

  “It’s pretty obvious how you feel about her.” Jillian made another note on her tablet.

  Damn it. He hadn’t been as careful as he thought. Jillian probably wasn’t the only one who knew how he felt. In fact, Anna might be the only one who didn’t know. But she was busy getting over Tom. And before that, she was busy falling in love with Tom. Before that, it had been Lewis and some other guy who drove a Corvette.

  Any chance Beckett had had at trying a relationship with Anna was always shoved to the side because of something. Sometimes a Corvette. Sometimes a cheating fiancé.

  And other times because he didn’t know how the hell to tell a woman who’d been a friend his whole life that he wanted something more.

  “It’s none of your business,” Beckett said, though not with any malice. He was practically Jillian’s brother and that’s how they did things.

  “Ah, Beckett, you always were good at avoiding my questions.”

  “You didn’t ask a question. What do you need help with?”

  Jillian turned to the tables and pointed. “These two in the middle need to go a few feet this way to leave more room for the dance floor.”

  Relieved to have a task, Beckett moved the tables, taking Jillian’s direction as she had him go one way, then come back a few feet, and finally end up where she’d had the tables in the first place.

  “That looks perfect,” Jillian said.

  He chuckled. “If you say so. What else?”

  “You should talk to her.”

  Beckett rubbed a hand over his eyes. When he looked up again, Jillian was staring at him. “The bride?” he asked hopefully.

  She nudged his arm. “Anna.”

  He shook his head. “This is why I’m an only child.”

  “So you can have an excuse to be socially awkward?”

  “You’re hilarious. No, so I don’t have sisters butting in my life.”

  “Your love life?” Poppy crooned.

  Beckett groaned. He hadn’t noticed her listening, but now Poppy stood with her arms folded, a rose hanging from her fingertips, smiling at him.

  But she was right. Beckett had been in love with Anna for years, and now that he could do something about it, he was frozen.

  “You’re going to run out of time,” Beckett told Jillian.

  She poked the screen of her tablet. “No, I’m not. But we need to get going.”

  That had done the trick. He got her back to work and for now, it seemed, she’d forgotten about his interest in Anna. He didn’t need someone else to remind him of his feelings. He’d had them since college.

  After another hour under Jillian’s direction, Beckett heard a car arrive at the back of the barn.

  It had to be Anna.

  “Help!” he heard her call.

  “The cake,” Jillian said with a nod, nudging him in that direction.

  He strolled out the wide barn doors. Anna was leaning in the back of her beat-up van, the one she deemed necessary for all the cakes she had to haul. One he figured might fall apart any day. He kept trying to get her to look for a new one. Something more reliable. And she kept insisting it was fine.

  He took a moment to admire her long legs, forgetting all about the van, before stepping to her side. “Hey.”

  Anna glanced up, cheeks flushed. “Oh, Beckett. Good. I have to get this cak
e inside and we’ve got cookies and my dress and—what?”

  He shook his head, dropping his gaze to the cake. “Nothing.”

  Just that her eyes were almost aquamarine in the sun. And once again they looked tired.

  “How are you doing?” he asked.

  “Fine,” she said in a low voice. Irritated. “Can you help me?”

  “Sure.” He said it with an easy shrug of his shoulders, but he knew she wasn’t fine. She also didn’t want to talk about it. But that was the problem. He’d spent so much time with Anna over the years, he knew exactly what she needed, and that was someone to talk to. To vent. Even if she didn’t want to admit it.

  Anna helped settle the cake in his arms so he could carry it to the small guesthouse connected to the barn. It worked as a staging area, with a kitchen as well as two separate rooms for the bride and groom to get ready. A trellis and the gardens were outside the guesthouse and worked perfectly for pictures and the ceremonies they hosted for at least half the weddings booked here.

  “It looks great,” he said.

  “It’ll look better when the flowers are on.”

  “Poppy’s here already. I can get the flowers.”

  She waved a hand at him. “Not yet. I’m going to change and make sure I’m ready first. We still have time before the ceremony starts. Why do you keep looking at me like that?”

  He set the cake on the wide island in the kitchen. Had he been doing it again? It’s just that she looked so worn out. He wanted to hold her, kiss her. Tell her it would be okay. That he was here for her if she needed it.

  But he couldn’t find the words.

  Instead, he smiled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “If I had more energy, I’d get it out of you.” She rubbed her eyes. “I’m tired, I know it. But it doesn’t make me feel better that you keep staring at me like you and everyone else knows it, too.”

  He started to apologize, but Jillian walked in, going straight for the cake. She examined it and nodded. “Looks good.”

  Poppy followed but instead of looking at the cake, she looked at Anna. “Hey. How are you doing?”

  Anna’s lips turned down in a frown and he could see by her face she was biting back half a dozen curses. “I’m fine. And I’m going to change.”

  She vanished from the room. Poppy winced. “I guess she doesn’t want to talk about it.”

  “She does,” Beckett said. “She just doesn’t want anyone to feel sorry for her, and asking her how she’s doing like she can’t handle it makes her feel like we don’t think she can.”

  Poppy and Jillian both stared at him.

  “What?” he asked.

  Jillian smiled. “Nothing. You know Anna as well as we do and that’s exactly what’s going on. Talk to her, Beckett.”

  “Do something,” Poppy said.

  “No time,” he answered, checking his watch.

  “Fine.” Jillian turned. “I’ll make you dance with her later. I have to get to the church. Mom will be by soon and the caterers are going to start setting up their tables and the food.”

  Poppy touched his arm. “No pressure, but I think you should tell her how you feel.”

  He sighed. “I really don’t think today’s the best day.”

  “Not today. Tomorrow.”

  “Thanks, Poppy,” he said wryly. “That’s very helpful.”

  “I’ll get the flowers for the cake.”

  Once she and Jillian were gone, he propped his hip against the counter and shook his head. He knew they meant well, but it wasn’t that simple. Anna was going through a rough time right now. He didn’t need to complicate it by telling her how he felt. And what if she didn’t feel the same way?

  No sense in screwing over their friendship, too.

  Anna returned to the kitchen in a fitted green dress that stopped just above her knees. His throat dried. Her eyes stood out even more now, making him want to lose himself in her gaze.

  He could ask her on a date. He could tell her to save a dance for him, even. Anything. But instead, he just stood there without words.

  “Poppy left?” Anna frowned and turned around. “Could you get this zipper? It’s stuck right at the top there.”

  She bent her head and his fingers fumbled for the zipper. He couldn’t help but sweep his gaze over the gentle line of her shoulders. Her soft hair twisted into a loose bun at the nape of her neck.

  He opened his mouth and said the first thing that came to mind. “Not all guys are like Tom, you know.”

  She froze as he tugged the zipper the rest of the way up.

  “I know it’s none of my business,” Beckett continued.

  “No, you’re right.” Anna turned, and when she lifted her eyes to his, he saw moisture at the corners, and it nearly broke his heart. “Not everyone is like Tom. You’re not.”

  “No, I’m not.” He wouldn’t ever cheat on Anna like Tom had.

  To his surprise, she smiled. And then said the last words he wanted to hear. “You’re a good friend, Beckett.” She walked back to the other room. “I’m going to finish getting ready.”

  When she disappeared, he released a breath of ironic laughter. Of course. A friend. That’s how she saw him.

  Well, Beckett thought, trying to boost his resolve, he was just going to have to get her to see him as more than a friend.

  And he had a plan.