Page 22 of A Little Twist

I had the florist make a special basket for her just in case she tripped over her floor-length dress. Alex’s daughter is as serious about dropping petals as her father is about crafting bourbon, and remembering her little face at the rehearsal makes me smile as I drive out to the venue. I don’t know her well, but at four and a half, she’s a pistol.

Parking in the space beside Alex’s empty reserved spot, I hop out just as the florist truck pulls into the lot.

“Perfect timing.” I step out and wave at them, shouting over the noise of the truck while shading my eyes from the painful morning sun. “Pull around back.”

I point to the loading area where the event space is located. God, I need coffee. It’s an hour later and a million trips back and forth unloading flowers before I get a cup, thanks to Alex walking out to check on our progress.

“You’re looking better than I expected after last night.” He sizes me up from behind dark sunglasses.

“It’s all an act.” Lifting my chin, I nod towards the kitchen. “If I don’t get a cup of coffee soon, I’m gonna…”

“Hold that thought.” The smile curling his lips manages to do fuzzy things to my insides, despite my hungover state.

Get a grip, Cass. You’ve got work to do.

I return to helping the delivery guys arrange the small, floral centerpieces on each table. Men on ladders are wrapping twinkle lights around the rafters, and burly guys roll in Ficus trees, paradise palms, and yuccas to fill in the gaps at the edges of the room and behind the stage.

“Here.” Alex puts a cup of coffee in my hand, and I straighten from where I’ve just placed a centerpiece.

Sniffing the warm, dark liquid, I take a sip, and my whole body shudders. “Oh, that’s so good.” Alex chuckles softly beside me, and my eyes flutter open. “I owe you my life.”

“We stayed up pretty late, too.” He nods at the small table bouquet. “Hibiscus?”

“Hibiscus, zinnias, and daisies.” I point to each bloom. “Britt said no matter what,no lilies, especially not stargazers. She made me swear.”

“Stinkgazers,” he says under his breath, and my ears quirk.

“Yeah, something like that. Aiden hates them?”

“We all do.” He lifts a small glass bowl containing the arrangement. “We came off a series of bad years all punctuated by stargazer lilies. These are perfect.”

He’s so emphatic, it makes me laugh.

“Whatever you say.” My eye catches on the clock over the door, and my heart drops. “Shit! It’s already three? I’ve got to get out of here!”

I start to go when Alex catches my arm. “Wait, I need to talk to you about something… A job.”

If this is about running his event planning, I might be a lot more open to the idea now that Britt’s wedding is over, and I’m facing a long string of endless days of Aunt Carol’s judgy lectures.

Still, I’m not going to make it if I don’t go now.

Catching his hand, I meet his eyes. “I’m interested, but I’ve got to get ready. Let’s talk after the wedding.”

“Done.” His voice is so emphatic, I feel like we don’t even need to talk later. It’s decided.

We will talk, but for now, I’ve got to get ready.

* * *

“I now pronounceyou Mr. and Mrs. Aiden Stone. You may kiss the bride.” Old Reverend Shepherd holds out his hands, and for a split second, Aiden studies Britt’s face.

She’s absolutely stunning in a white sleeveless gown with a full, tulle skirt. Her blonde hair is arranged in loose waves down her back.

My heart squeezes in my chest, and Piper’s chin drops. As Britt’s only two bridesmaids, we’re both dressed in tan satin slip-dresses. Mine is knee-length, while Piper’s flows to the floor. Our hair is loose down our backs as well, with two little French braids on each side to hold it out of our eyes.

The guys are all in black, two-piece suits with ties that match our dresses, the only difference being Aiden’s is a bow tie. I’m doing my best not to look at Alex every few seconds, but it’s difficult.

He’s the darkest of the three brothers, and the suit fits him perfectly. The light scruff of a beard is neat on his cheeks, and his dark, wavy hair is smoothed behind his ears. I fight my eyes dropping below his waist, and every time his hazel eyes meet mine, I’m sure he knows.

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