Page 61 of Holiday Friend Zones
I spin her around, showing her off, her pearly white dress making her look like an angel.How she found another new dress in a week, I have no idea.But I don’t care.She looks perfect.
No, she is perfect.
I would have waited however long she wanted to get married.Let her take forever to plan out a big, elaborate wedding inviting everyone we’ve ever met, plus all sorts of business contacts we may or may not actually care about, and maybe even a few strangers along the way.But nope, that’s not what she wanted.
A quiet, simple event at the distillery on New Year’s Eve, with those closest to us.That is what she insisted on.Not even next New Year’s Eve, but this one.Because why wait?We already knew, and forever needed to start now.
Like I said, she’s perfect.
“Normally I’d have some comment about how Mr.Barnes is my father, but tonight, it’s acceptable.”
Drawing her in close, I place my hand on the small of her back and remind myself that I have to behave.That our families are watching.Our parents and grandparents.Misbehaving can come later.
“How much longer until I can take you home and do unspeakable things to you?”I ask.
Kyra makes a face, pretending to think.
“Well, let’s see, right after this, we cut the cake.Then dinner will be served, then?—”
“We’re cutting cake and then eating dinner?”I ask, cutting her off.There is no way I heard her properly.As much as I’m willing to subscribe to hereat dessert firstmotto, this might be taking it too far.Not to mention, that doesn’t make sense for this big of a group.“Who did you bribe to get that approved?”
“No one.”She beams proudly.“Apparently, it’s normal.We cut first, then eat dinner, so that the catering team has time to slice it all up and then serve it to everyone after dinner.”
I tug her in closer, kissing her softly.I don’t have the heart to tell my beautiful wife that I’m almost positive that’snothow it’s done.But who am I to squash her dreams?No one.
Not to mention, I saw exactly how she reacted when Paul Hollywood tried to make fancy s’mores the other night, and I somehow think telling her she can’t have her wedding cake before dinner would go over about as well.
“If you say so.”
“I do, and I’m the bride.”
Chuckling, I spin her around again, wanting to show her off.She’s absolutely radiant, with her red hair shimmering under the dim lights of the Edison bulbs, those Murray-hazel eyes full of love and forever.
The song ends, the DJ’s voice sounding like Charlie Brown’s teacher in the background announcing what comes next.But all my focus is on my wife, who is looking at me like she just won the lottery.
“What?”
“Are you ready for cake?”she asks, bouncing up and down like a toddler who has already had too much.
“I think you’re ready for cake.”I laugh.
“I’m ready for you to have cake.”
There’s an impish look on her face that sets off my spidey-senses.Kyra is up to something.
Taking my hand, she leads me off the small parquet dance floor, and to the side of the room where a small table has been set up in front of the catering entrance.All eyes are on us as “Be Our Guest” fromBeauty and the Beaststarts to play, and I start to wonder if I’m being pranked.Is a singing and dancing candlestick going to suddenly appear?
“Kyra, what is…”
My attention is quickly diverted as the catering door opens, and a long cart is wheeled out with a cheesecake on it.But not just any cheesecake.This one is topped with cherries.And instantly, I know exactly what I’m looking at.
“Kyra, you didn’t…” I mutter, turning to her.
A lump forms in my throat, my chest tightening the closer the cart gets to us.I can already smell the whiskey—the telltale sharpness of that Tennessee Trouble—mixed with the sweetness of the cherries, and it’s making my heart race.
“It’s your favorite,” she whispers, coming up behind me and resting her head on my shoulder as she wraps her arms around my waist.“Plus, it’s the first dessert we shared at the Final Cask.”
I twist, gathering her in my arms and trying to collect my thoughts.She’s right on all accounts.Whiskey cherry cheesecake is my favorite.A thick slice of heavenly cheesecake that is then smothered with cherries soaked in Kyra’s family’s renowned whiskey and then set on fire—à la cherries jubilee—was a staple at the upscale restaurant in town, the Final Cask, for years.Until an incident where a tourist knocked over a cocktail while the dessert was being served in a moment that the gods of physics themselves couldn’t recreate and the fire marshal banned them from keeping it on the menu.Both our hearts were broken over it.
