Page 13 of Baking with Bryan

“Why don’t you check them for automatic no’s?” Cynthia offers the hangers to December.

“I like these two, but this one is more of a taupe with glitter.” She hands back the dress and hands me the others.

“I’ll take this back after I lead the Maid of Honor to the fitting room.” Cynthia gestures to the chairs that line the wall. “Why don’t you have a seat, and I’ll bring you a Mimosa momentarily.”

“I like this more and more now that the stressful part is finished,” December says cheekily.

“You’ve always loved to dress people up.”

“I can’t help it. It’s something I inherited from my mother.”

Snickering, I follow Cynthia across the navy carpet and down the hallway to a mid-sized fitting room.

“If you need any help at all, let me know. Otherwise, come out when you’re ready.”

I enter the fitting room and my phone buzzes in my pocket. Hanging the dresses on the hook, I fish it out and find the object of my desire’s name sprawled across the screen. I answer.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes. I was calling to ask you the same thing and to see if I could ask for a favor.”

“Like what?”

“Join me at midnight at the nursery to figure out the flowers.”

My heart drops. Bryan wasn’t going to mention what happened.

“Of course. I’m just about to try on a few dresses, so—”

He grunts. “You can’t say things like that and expect me not to imagine how beautiful you were last night.”

“I wasn’t sure you were interested.” I test the waters.

“I am very interested. The wedding timing was… less than ideal.”

I laugh. “To say the least.”

“I’ll make it up to you tonight. I promise.” His voice dips lower and warmth.

“I hope so.”

“Better be ready for the fire you’re playing with to catch up with you.”

I laugh. “I’m looking forward to it.” Before he can reply, I hang up.

We still have a chance. I plan to do everything I can to make it work. The way backward is unchartable; the only way left is forward. I’ll enjoy every moment because it may be all we have. Shoving away the dip in my mood, I strip down and pick up my first dress. The crippling doubt will have to wait. I have a wedding to help host.

* * *

Bryan

I knew everything would change when I fully admitted my feelings about Nora and acted on them. But I hadn’t considered this strange side-effect. I tug at the collar of my button-up shirt as I survey my work.Is this enough?I’d repurposed an old outdoor wooden table for our late-night desert. Nestling the square in between the large Christmas tree we put up to display the ornaments we have on sale and add a holiday atmosphere in the center of the nursery, I created a little place for us to explore the rapid changes in our relationship.

I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans and shake my head. I haven’t been this nervous since I took my first date to the homecoming dance in middle school. While I wanted her help on the potential wedding décor, I’m making time to put us first. If we even qualify as an us? I run my fingers over the soft velvet of the scarlet table runner that holds two white plates with slices of my mom’s Dulce De Leche cake.

A white candle rests inside the evergreen centerpiece I made just for Nor to take home, and two wine glasses wait for the Riesling I have chilled in a cooler. My family has always gone all out of the holidays, and Mom didn’t hold back on teaching us how to continue the tradition just because she had boys.

But this is the first time I’ve used that knowledge to sweep a woman off her feet.Not a woman, the woman. My woman.I like the way the words feel together. Headlights shine through the glass building, and I tamp down my nerves. This is the woman I’ve shared my deepest secrets with for years. That hasn’t changed.