by Laura Briggs
“Go,” he said.
“Go?” she repeated.
“Yeah. Take off. I can handle the flowers when they come,” he said. “Like I said, I’d hate to miss my final performance as assistant Blake Ellingham. At this point, the florist would be disappointed not to see me here, making sure everything meets the standards of my exacting boss.”
The world of horribly, crazily wrong events was a hurricane surrounding this one moment of perfect reassurance that someone had her back when she needed it. It almost felt as if she had been swept into a pair of strong, protective arms, but there was six feet of space between her and the contractor in his flour-spotted apron. A rush of gratitude spurred Tessa to cross the room, however, and throw her arms around Blake, hugging him tightly.
“Thank you. You’re amazing,” she said. Impulsively, her hand cupped one side of Blake’s face to kiss his cheek, without thinking of what it meant to be this close to him until she met his eyes. This was how she had kissed him before, in the accident that wasn’t entirely an accident. This time, if she kissed him, he would know she meant it.
This time, a kiss would truly change everything between them. It would be inescapable, their lips touching a second time, if she did what she longed to do.
His arm was encircling her waist, gently and lightly, as if returning her embrace. Holding her there without actually holding onto her. It had frozen Tessa in place, her lips mere inches from his own, with her hand caressing his face.
“Blake…” she began, although the words were dying on her lips without having formed any true declaration about how she felt. She wasn’t escaping him, not his eyes or the protective curve of his arm. Not even when he leaned slightly toward her, as if to take the kiss they were on the verge of sharing. Hesitating—but maybe that was because Tessa herself had drawn back from that final touch by a mere fraction of movement, the briefest hesitation that had kept them from being locked together in an exchange of passion.
Her fast-beating heart only exacerbated this truth; her free hand touched his shoulder, but not to push him away. If she could stop gazing at his face, it would help. It would help her to pull her thoughts together, and say the real reason that being this close to him always tied her tongue in knots, one that terrified her to her very core just as it thrilled her.
“Sorry,” said Blake softly. His hold on her relaxed a little, creating a space between their bodies. The only reason Tessa didn’t blush was because mortification was sweeping over her. Again with this? Again she missed her mark when it came to this kiss? Was it for the best, or was it just stupidity that caused her to keep tripping over this moment?
“This… was a little over the top for a thank you, I guess,” she said, her words stumbling, too, as if aware they were the wrong ones. “I keep doing that, for some reason.” Did she have to sound breathless at this moment, of all possible times?
“You do,” he agreed, his voice equally soft. “It’s a habit with impulsive people, I’m told.”
“I meant to say—to tell you—I’m really grateful that you’re helping out.”
If it wasn’t for the beginning of a smile on Blake’s lips at her reply, which might be followed any second by a laugh or a smirk that had not yet appeared, she would have hated how formal this sounded, and maybe hated that she was dodging the truth. Instead, her cheeks burned with a blush.
“No problem,” he answered gently. And seriously. As she drew free of his encircling arms, he let her slip from his embrace completely. Once she was no longer touching him, or feeling his body making contact with hers, it was easier to think and breathe, she discovered. Easier to think that it was for the best that she hadn’t crazily locked lips with Blake while precious seconds were ticking away before the wedding, and without so much as a hint that the situation between them was far from equally platonic.
“I should go. Thank you. For waiting for the florist,” she clarified. She stepped back hastily and hurried from the kitchen, really, really hoping that the fire-red blush engulfing her face at this moment had yet to make itself visible before she turned away.
I almost did it again. What is he thinking? What am I thinking, because there’s no way this is an accident that keeps happening. She was trying not to think about it, but was struggling to think of anything else, even the important events of the day.
Deadlines, big important details, and a ticking clock should be the focus of this moment—but even with the turmoil inside and out, she knew she trusted Blake to oversee the delivery with the precision of his snooty alter ego. It didn’t need a second thought, because Tessa trusted him the way she trusted herself to finish the job.
If she could only trust herself that perfectly when it came to her behavior around Blake, then she wouldn’t be catching her breath outside the kitchen door for a second, away from the smoke, the chaos, and especially away from his muscular arms.
Just breathe. Her calm and dignity returned to her as she focused on the task ahead and the chapel. Determined, she marched forward, not to escape herself but to meet the next round of challenges head on and prevent any part of this wedding from unraveling at its seams.
Time to secure Nadia and Lyle’s perfect ‘I do.’
It was like a picture postcard: the glass wedding chapel in the cold winter light of the clearing, flanked by Christmassy evergreens and pale slender gray-barked saplings. Tessa hurried up the footpath, bundled against the cold—no dirty slush covered it, but there was a delicate sheet of white dusting the ground and lightly embellishing the woodland branches. True to their promises, Accented Creations’ garlands adorned the doorway and the altar, with delicate white petals and crisp blossoms shining beneath the church’s lamps. The roof was swept free of snow, but a delicate pattern of ice crystals etched the windows in the late afternoon light.
Tessa stepped inside. The guests were seated, there was still plenty of confetti in the basket beside the guest book, and the ceremony’s official was chatting with Paula near the front of the chapel as they waited for the ceremony to begin. Lyle was standing in place, looking nervous but grinning as he spoke with his best man beside him, who was holding a small ring box in one hand.
The ring. The last thing on Tessa’s list that could go wrong, short of Natalie’s nightmare about the dress. Flowers, check. Confetti, check. Ushers, check. All that remained was the transportation, any little final issues that needed to be smoothed, and the music cue for the bride.
Glancing around, she didn’t see Natalie anywhere. Ama would still be with the catering crew, Tessa suspected, but the Wedding Belles’ official designer and seamstress had intended to be here in case of a wardrobe malfunction. She called Natalie’s number. “Hey, Nat, where are you?” she asked. “I’m at the chapel, but I don’t see you. Are you with Nadia at the guest house?” The bride, her mother, and the rest of the bridal party were waiting at the chapel’s little cottage, which had been provided for dressing, last-minute champagne toasts, and privacy before the ceremony.
“Change of plans. The cake needed a little last-minute tweaking,” said Natalie. “We’re almost done, but I won’t make it to the ceremony.”
“What happened?” Tessa detected something in her partner’s voice. A little element beneath that nonchalance that didn’t quite fit the rest of her tone, regardless of Natalie’s mastery for hiding things.
“Nothing. Everything’s fine,” said Natalie. “I swear, it will look perfect when the bride and groom stroll through the doors. After the edible decorations are in place, Ama and I are going to help lay out the appetizers and the dessert table. I just hope the main course is ready by the time they arrive—that’s going to be touch and go, according to the kitchen.”
“Call me if something goes wrong,” said Tessa. Clearly, Natalie wasn’t willing to confess what had already happened, which her partners had clearly handled on their own. “I’ll be there as soon as the couple leave the ceremony.”
She called Nadia next. “Are you ready to walk down the
aisle?” she asked in her brightest voice. “I’m here at the chapel and everything looks perfect for the big moment.”
“I am,” said Nadia. “We’re at the guesthouse and we’re almost ready to leave for the church. Did you see the sleigh? It’s beautiful, Tessa. It looks like it’s been shipped here from some Scandinavian mountain village—can you believe Lyle arranged it?”
“He’s a great guy, so of course I can,” said Tessa. “I haven’t seen it yet, but it’s my next stop, and I’m sure it’s just like you described it. Is there anything you need checked or changed last minute?” She hoped the answer was no, since her imagination was still occupied by Natalie’s secret disaster.
“Nothing. Everything’s great,” said Nadia. “Thanks again.”
“You’re welcome.” Tessa hung up. Taking a deep breath, she prepared to step outside into the cold again, wrapping her coat a little tighter as she trekked across the woodland path to confer with the sleigh driver. Making sure he was ready to collect the bride and groom when called was one of the final steps before the ceremony began. Already, Nadia and her bridal party were emerging from the guest cottage with Cynthia, who carried the bride’s matching coat and a small clutch which contained makeup and other essentials, as they walked along the path to the church.
The sleigh and white reindeer were waiting in a small clearing in the grove a few yards from the church—it looked like Santa was parked there on a quick stop-off, Tessa reflected. The driver was bundled up against the cold, pausing in his texting as he confirmed the details of his part to Tessa.
“So we’re clear on all the steps?” she said to the driver, who nodded.
“Absolutely. Soon as I get the signal, I’ll drive to the front of the church, then take the long way to the parking lot.” His two reindeer were dressed in black harnesses and silver bells, one nosing in a hopeful way against Tessa’s pocket, suggesting it had sampled a few snacks from visitors at its home lodge. The sleigh was a beautiful white one with accents painted in silver.
“Looks like a storm’s coming,” commented the driver, pulling his muffler and coat around him more closely. Tessa hurried toward the church again, counting down the minutes until the ceremony.
“Just a few clouds,” she called back. It had better not, she thought, feeling desperate enough to threaten the clouds instead of plea bargaining.
Thank heavens the church was warm enough inside, the guests cozy in their seats, the aisles decorated with simple greenery touched with fake frost. Tessa slipped to the front of the church and whispered to the organist, cueing her to play the wedding march as the doors opened for Nadia and her bridal party to enter.
The music was solemn, and the collective intake of breath at the entrance of Nadia and her party was audible in the room. The bride certainly looked stunning, and even Cynthia had a genuine smile as they proceeded slowly down the aisle to the waiting groom and groomsmen. Lyle looked as if he couldn’t wait for this moment, Tessa thought, as he stretched out his hand for Nadia’s.
“Dearly beloved,” began the minister. Tessa relaxed a little bit—this part was all Nadia and Lyle’s. Solemn vows, ceremonial candles lit, a touching and funny speech on what marriage means from the minister officiating at the wedding… these were the moments Tessa savored: the expressions of happiness, love, and hope in the eyes of the couple being joined together, and the friends and family sharing this experience with them.
This was the best part of her work, as she had told Blake at the very beginning. To think that her chance to share this moment had been slipping away… that was something she could no more put into words than she could define the sparkle she could see in Nadia’s eyes as the bride said ‘I do.’
Sometimes the perfect words don’t exist, not for a blend of feelings that seem contradictory or overwhelming, like tears that mix happiness and excitement with the full spectrum of realization that one is taking a tremendous leap in life. Like the way it felt to touch another’s hand, for instance, and realize that the feelings inside you are the electricity of attraction and fear of the unknown, all at once—
“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” said the minister. “You may kiss the bride.” Tessa snapped back to herself at this critical point in the ceremony. Seconds from now, the newly married couple would be presented to their guests, and the hour for the reception would be closing in quickly. It was time to check in with Natalie and Ama one last time.
Snowflake ice votives were lining the path outside the chapel by the time the couple was ready to leave. The first stage of twilight had darkened quickly, thanks to the clouds above; the lights woven in the simple, frosted greenery twinkled above Lyle and Nadia as they emerged from the chapel’s carved doors to the party of guests waiting to see them off. All the guests held bags of snowflake confetti for showering the couple, but a flurry of soft, white flakes descended first upon the hood of Nadia’s lace coat and Lyle’s tuxedo shoulders, courtesy of the sky above. Real snow was falling.
Both natural snowflake and glittery confetti sprinkled over the couple as they hurried to the reindeer-drawn sleigh, its bells jingling softly as it reached the end of the path. From its carriage, Nadia stood and tossed her bouquet to the waiting crowd of single women, then the couple waved goodbye as the sleigh began its short journey through the woods.
Just like a scene from a winter fairytale, Tessa thought. She had never seen the couple look happier than now, even though the wood would be cold despite the white woolen lap robes tucked around them.
“The road will be a mess if it keeps snowing,” said one guest, who was standing closest to her. “It’s rotten luck that the storm actually came through.”
“The weather radar shows it breaking up,” reported a guest who was checking his phone’s weather app. “Looks like it’s just a little dust of snow, and that’s it. Probably it’ll be over by the time we reach the parking lot.”
She couldn’t have planned it this perfectly. Tessa smiled.
At the reception site, Blake’s powers of overseeing Accented Creations’ delivery greeted her first in the dining room, with every centerpiece perfectly placed on the table. Ice vases gently dripped into their crystal basins as candles flickered inside them, and snow-white blossoms and cool mint greens shone between the shimmering woodland branches. Even the substituted blossoms looked beautiful; the centerpieces had lost nothing of their charm.
Visions of a cake leaning to one side or melting beneath the restaurant’s soft lighting were vanquished—Ama’s creation was perfectly in place, between the glittering ice swan of sorbet at one end and the chocolate groom’s cake at the other. The trays of mini cheesecakes and chocolate truffles were in place, the crab puffs and Brie and Camembert savories ready and waiting.
“What happened?” she whispered to Natalie, who was tweaking the rows of silverware beside the serving platters.
“What do you mean?” Natalie answered innocently.
“Come on. I heard it in your voice earlier.” Tessa glanced at the cake, seeing a quick flash of guilt in Natalie’s eyes. One had to be quick to see it, but Tessa knew it would be there.
“Tell you later,” muttered Natalie. “Before we send the bill.” With that, she joined the catering staff, who were bringing out more small serving plates as the guests arrived.
Champagne corks popped for the first toast as radish boxes and creamy dill dip vanished into the mouths of hungry guests. Servers marched out with the soups and salads for dinner, beginning at the wedding party’s end of the table, then the main courses, which Tessa tasted a little of in the kitchen as she helped garnish plates and uncork wine bottles for serving.
“Where’s Blake?” she asked Ama, who was definitely in ‘restaurant mode’ as she drizzled the chef’s sauce over the main dishes on the counter with an expert hand. “He, uh, was here when I left,” Tessa added, to explain why she was asking. She was still searching the room for him with every new arrival to the reception, trying to sift him from the crowd of s
trangers belonging to Nadia and Lyle.
“I don’t know,” said Ama. “Is he here? I haven’t seen him.”
“He helped with the flowers, sort of,” said Tessa. “There was a little fiasco with the delivery time for the centerpieces—” Ama glanced up sharply as she listened, as if anticipating another problem for them “—and he stayed behind to see that everything was fine.”
“He came to help?” said Ama. She laughed. “Wow. I didn’t think he’d ever set foot on wedding turf again after what we dragged him into the first time.”
“I know. I guess he thought we were in a bind or something,” said Tessa. “Then he said something about helping out the staff afterwards. Surprising, huh?” She laughed, but she didn’t mean it. Something about it didn’t seem funny, although she was afraid that she might keep laughing hysterically once she started—the way nervous people giggle uncontrollably when they’re about to blurt out a secret.
“Like I said, I haven’t seen him today,” said Ama. “Since he was invited, he’s probably still here somewhere.” She grabbed a knife from the block on the counter and began mincing some herbs for a garnish.
He was coming, surely, Tessa thought. And when he did, she wondered if his mind would be occupied by the same thoughts as her own when he glimpsed her in this crowd. About near brushes with a kiss, and how it felt natural to be so close.
She could do it. She could tell him that it wasn’t anyone’s imagination responsible for the sparks between them, or the sudden moments of shyness or desire that completely changed their chemistry from time to time. It was real, because she was deeply attracted to him—therefore, that kiss between them hadn’t truly been an accident.
So… Blake… is it the same way for you? These feelings, the sense that we have something more than just friendship? She knew he must, but she wanted to hear it from his lips all the same.
