You Say It First--A Small-Town Wedding Romance

by Susan Mallery

  Which made her sound like a five-year-old, she thought, embarrassed. “I guess I should get over it.”

  “Why? She’s your mother. That’s her job—to love and support you. Yes, you’ve followed your own path. So has Cade. You want to feel supported and loved in your own family. That’s not unreasonable.”

  Pallas knew he was right. She shouldn’t have to fight her mother, just to be happy. And she should stop putting her life on hold until she received an approval that wasn’t coming. Only knowing the right thing to do and standing up to Libby were two different things.

  “Baby steps,” she whispered. “That’s about all I can do.”

  “You’re moving forward. That’s what matters.”

  The warning bell rang, signaling the start of the second round. Nick returned to his seat across from her. Wynn walked over.

  “Everyone at my table is out,” she said cheerfully. “I’m warning you, I’ve been on a roll.”

  Pallas laughed. “I think you have to worry about Jasper more than us. If the break had come five minutes later, I would have been out for sure.” She waved her token. “But I’m keeping my cat.”

  Wynn waved her hand. “I don’t care which one I am. Oh, and no one can tell Hunter what we did tonight. He’s already bitter about not being able to come to the tournaments. If he finds out we played a game he considers himself too old for, he’ll be devastated.”

  “I won’t say a word,” Pallas promised. She glanced up and saw Jasper approaching. “Look who’s joining us,” she called.

  Jasper spotted Wynn. For a second, it seemed as if he froze in place, but the hesitation was so quick, Pallas couldn’t be sure.

  Wynn and Jasper? She couldn’t imagine the reclusive writer and the single mom together. What would they have in common?

  “Pallas has to have the cat,” he said as he took his seat.

  “So I’ve been told.” Wynn laughed. “I’ll take anything. Oh, and I plan to win, just so everyone is prepared.”

  See, Pallas told herself. They were just friends. Imagining anything else was ridiculous.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  THE HEAT FROM the blowtorch made it hard to breathe. Even through the protective gloves, Nick could feel the fire licking close to his skin. He already had a half-dozen minor burns on his arms and he and Mathias were only in day two of their metal experiment.

  He waited an extra second, then turned off the blowtorch. He and Mathias quickly carried the rod to the clamps and began to twist the metal. They had a limited amount of time before the rod cooled. Once it did, they had to heat it again. Unfortunately, there were only so many times any piece could be heated and cooled before it was compromised. Something they’d learned the hard way. There were shattered and broken rods all over the concrete floor.

  “One more?” Mathias asked.

  Nick nodded.

  Mathias turned the handle. Nick watched the rod twist, crack and go sailing out in five different directions. He and his brother ducked. One of the pieces clipped Nick in the arm. He felt a sharp pain and looked down in time to see blood trickling past his elbow.

  “This might be harder than it looked on YouTube,” Mathias grumbled.

  Nick pulled off his gloves and goggles, then went to the sink to wash his wound. He slapped on an oversize bandage from the ones always kept in the cupboard.

  “We should probably take a class or something,” Nick told him. “Talk about embarrassing. Want to get a beer?”

  They went to The Boardroom and ordered beers, then took a table by the window. Nick smiled as he thought about the tournament last Monday. Jasper had ended up winning it all, just like Pallas had predicted. She’d gone out in the third round, with Nick quickly following in the fourth.

  He’d enjoyed himself. The people in town were friendly, which was a lot like where he’d grown up. The tourist element was also similar, but played out in a different way. Weddings instead of festivals.

  Still, Fool’s Gold had been a great place to grow up. He’d always had his brothers. Nick and the twins. That was how everyone had thought of the three younger boys.

  “What?” Mathias asked. “You look strange.”

  Nick took that to be a comment on his expression rather than his face. “I was remembering when we were Nick and the twins.”

  “I believe you mean the twins and Nick.”

  “Always competitive.”

  “In my way.”

  Nick picked up his beer. “How are you getting along with Ronan?”

  “We have good days and bad days. He’s dealing.”

  “Not very well.”

  “Give it time.”

  “It’s been nearly three years. He needs to get over it and move on.”

  “Easy for you to say. You didn’t lose anything.”

  Nick wanted to point out that Ronan hadn’t, either—the only thing that was different was information. He was still their brother and their mother’s favorite. But saying that wouldn’t help. Telling Mathias was meaningless and Ronan wouldn’t listen.

  “Ronan and I are fighting,” Nick said.

  “Duh.”

  “Still.”

  “You need to stop.” Mathias shook his head. “I remember when all the fights were with Dad.”

  Either about art or about their brothers, Nick thought. Once Ceallach realized his two older sons weren’t especially talented, he’d lost interest in them. Only the three with potential had mattered. Even as a kid, Nick had known that was wrong. While he appreciated being special, he was uncomfortable knowing Del and Aidan weren’t allowed to bask in the glory that was their father.

  “I can’t figure out if they had it better or worse,” Nick said. “Del and Aidan never had to compete, never had to deal with him. They walked away and got their own lives.”

  “He is both a blessing and curse.”

  “Where’s the blessing?” Nick asked.

  “Say what you want about him, it was a good gene pool. We were lucky.”

  Nick supposed he was right. He couldn’t imagine not being able to create the way he did. Sure, things went wrong—there were plenty of shattered pieces of metal to prove that—but at the end of the day he could pick up a chainsaw and let the wood speak for him. He could carve or blow glass or, in a pinch, paint. Without that—he honestly didn’t know who he would be. But there had been a price.

  “You’re going to say that the way he rode us hard made us better artists.”

  Mathias shook his head. “I don’t think he made me better. I think he made me question whether I should bother. But with you and Ronan—you were able to compete with him.”

  A competition that had cost them dearly, Nick thought grimly. Nick had walked away from the medium he thought would be his forever. He hadn’t worked with glass in nearly a decade. Mathias had given up on fine art, instead spending his time and talent making practical items like vases and glasses. The result of Ceallach’s judgment on his work. When their father hadn’t liked something Mathias had done, he would casually backhand it off the table so it shattered onto the floor. One day Mathias, like Nick, had stopped trying.

  Only Ronan had hung in there, willing to go toe-to-toe with their father. It might have been because he was more able to handle all the crap. Or because he was stubborn. Or maybe it was because he was just plain brilliant. An asshole sometimes, but a brilliant one. Funny how that made him the most like Ceallach.

  “You miss Dad being around?” Nick asked.

  “No. Not even a little. You?”

  “Nope. I should have left years ago. Interesting how four of us got away. Only Aidan is left in Fool’s Gold.”

  Aidan—one of the nonblessed, or so Ceallach would say. From Nick’s perspective, Aidan was one lucky guy. He had a business he loved and the
woman of his dreams. Maybe the universe was compensating him for a crappy childhood.

  “You talk to Mom much?” Mathias asked.

  “I call her every few weeks. She’s fine. All she wants to talk about is Ceallach. She barely asks what I have going on.” Because her husband had always been the center of her world. No one else existed. Passion consumed. He was wise to stay safe.

  “What about you?” he asked.

  “We stay in touch. She always asks about Ronan.”

  “He won’t call her?”

  “Not very often.”

  “Someone needs to beat the crap out of him,” Nick muttered.

  “You made a run at it and look how that went.”

  Nick looked at his brother. “I wasn’t trying very hard.”

  “Oh, sure. Is that what we’re saying now?”

  “He’s my brother. I wasn’t going to hurt him. I was trying to make a point.”

  Mathias looked amused. “Whatever gets you through the night.”

  “I know what gets you through the night,” Nick said, remembering Natalie’s teasing at the game tournament. “You’d better be careful. Aidan was a player and look what happened to him.”

  “He’s crazy in love with Shelby and couldn’t be happier.”

  “Is that what you want?”

  Mathias didn’t hesitate. “No.”

  “You sure? Aren’t you tired of a different girl every night?”

  “It’s only on weekends.” Mathias’s smile faded. “Okay, sure, sometimes I think about having someone serious but I don’t know. People who love you betray you.”

  “Not everyone. I haven’t.”

  “I appreciate that. Okay, not you or Del or Aidan, but pretty much everyone else.” Mathias’s tone was offhand, as if he was perfectly all right with what had happened, but Nick knew that couldn’t be true. As for the brother not mentioned—how had Ronan betrayed him?

  “These thoughts are too deep for the time of day,” Mathias said. “What about you and Pallas? How’s that going?”

  Not a subtle change of topic, but one Nick would accept. “Good. Great. I like her a lot.”

  “But?”

  “I’m leaving for Dubai.”

  Mathias’s mouth twitched. “I hate to burst your bubble, but you don’t have the commission yet, bro.”

  “Come on. It’s me. Who else would get it? I’m a Mitchell.”

  “Blessing and curse, like I said.” He studied Nick. “You’ll get it based on the name.”

  Nick glared at him. “And the talent.”

  “If you had any.” He held up his beer bottle. “To our parents. At least we have someone to blame for screwing us up.”

  Nick hit his bottle against his brother’s. “If life gives you lemons.”

  * * *

  “MY FIANCÉ AND I were so impressed by Catherine’s wedding,” the curvy, petite brunette said eagerly. “We decided that night we had to have our wedding here.”

  Which was exactly what Taylor had said on the phone, Pallas thought in some confusion. How could anyone have been impressed with that disaster? “The black-and-white princess wedding,” she clarified. “Where the zebras got loose and the DJ robbed the guests.”

  “Only with a paint gun.” Taylor waved her hand. “The zebra thing was no big deal and the DJ was Catherine’s fault. It’s important to vet people and read reviews.” She beamed. “I read all about you online. You have some excellent referrals. I was able to friend a couple of them on Facebook and then talk to them. Everybody loves you. They think you do excellent work for the price. You handle details and make sure it all comes out perfectly.”

  Unexpected praise, Pallas thought, hoping she didn’t blush. “Thank you,” she murmured.

  “You’re welcome.” Taylor pulled a folder out of her large Michael Kors tote. “Jake and I want an under-the-sea wedding.”

  Pallas stared at the picture of the mermaid-styled wedding gown and seashell dinnerware. She was less sure about the dress style on Taylor’s somewhat short, round body type.

  “Have you already tried on dresses?”

  “Yes, and I’m so close to picking the one I want. It’s fantastic.” Taylor’s happy smile returned. “Jake and I met by the beach. We were in a skin diving class together. I took one look at him and just knew.” She sighed. “We’re going to honeymoon in Hawaii.”

  “That will be lovely. So, um, under the sea. You do realize Happily Inc is in the desert, right?”

  Taylor laughed. “Of course. We love that it’s centrally located for our families and friends, with plenty of hotel space.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Jake is going to be a pirate. We’re so excited. Could you get us a parrot to ride on his shoulder?”

  Pallas’s first instinct was to say no. No to the parrot, no to the under-the-sea theme, no to everything. Which was, she told herself, a reaction to Nova having to cancel her wedding. It had nothing to do with adorable Taylor and her slightly strange ideas.

  This was what she wanted, Pallas reminded herself. A chance to try something different. If she and her team could create an alien world, why couldn’t they come up with an under-the-sea theme?

  “Tell me what you had in mind,” she said as she pulled out a pad of paper.

  “We want our colors to reflect the ocean. Aqua, blue, sea green. I wish there was a way to make it feel like we were underwater. I guess big fish tanks would be expensive, huh?”

  “More than that, one of the things you like about the ocean is the freedom it represents. The sea seems endless. Fish in a tank are the opposite of that.” Pallas pressed her lips together. She had no idea where that had come from.

  Taylor’s brown eyes widened. “You’re good,” she breathed.

  “Thanks. We can’t be in the ocean, but maybe we can create the illusion of being under the sea.” She stood and crossed to the bookcase on the far wall. “I have some pictures that show what I mean.”

  She returned to her desk and flipped through the pictures. “This,” she said, pointing. One of her brides had asked for sheers to be put around the courtyard. “See how they’re lit?”

  “It’s beautiful,” Taylor said, sounding doubtful.

  “I have the white sheers. Imagine if we backlit them with blues and greens. As they moved in the breeze, they could really look like water. Maybe we could look at Mylar streamers to hang down in front of the sheers.” She drew on the pad to illustrate what she meant. “We could pick plants that had an ocean grass or seaweed kind of feel and put them around the edges by the sheers.”

  “Oh, I like that a lot!”

  “Me, too. You know, it would be relatively easy to expand this theme. I’d say go with white linens. They’re the least expensive and give us a perfect backdrop. Shells on the table, small message in a bottle kind of decorations instead of name cards.” She caught her breath. “Oh, wow. What if you did larger message in a bottle for the invitations? They’d be harder to mail, but it might be worth it. There are shell combs for the bridesmaids’ hair.”

  She flipped through the photo album and stopped on another page. “Silver, our resident bartender, does these fun Jell-O shots.” She pointed to a picture. “I’ll bet she could do a custom color to match everything else.”

  “I’d love that.”

  “And for a centerpiece, if you want to do something different, what about treasure chests? We could use glass beads and little starfishes, along with flowers. It could be unique and pretty and—”

  Taylor flung herself at Pallas and burst into tears. “Thank you so much. I’ve wanted a mermaid wedding since I was four years old. I’ve been to so many other venues and everyone else told me my idea was unworkable and silly. You’re making my wedding dreams come true.”

  Pallas hugged her back. “I�
�m so glad you think so. I really like your idea, Taylor. Why don’t I put together a proposal, listing all my ideas, and you and Jake can look it over? Then we can meet again in person or have a conference call.”

  Taylor released her and wiped the tears off her face. “I would love that. Thank you. You have no idea how happy you’ve made me.”

  Pallas was feeling a little giddy herself. She got Taylor’s contact information and promised to have the proposal to her by the end of the week.

  This was why she did what she did, she reminded herself when Taylor had left. To make people happy on one of the most important days in their lives. Somehow she’d let herself lose a little of the magic, but she was getting it back bit by bit.

  She made a few more notes, then went in search of Nick. She’d seen his truck pull up as Taylor had arrived and guessed he was here to work on the panels. It was warm these days—maybe he’d taken off his shirt.

  She was still grinning when she walked around the corner and saw him bent over the huge carved wood panel. Then he straightened and she gasped as she saw a big bandage on his arm. The center was red from blood—as if the wound had taken a long time to stop bleeding.

  “What did you do?” she asked as she ran over to him. “Are you okay? Should you see a doctor?”

  He turned and frowned. “What are you talking about? I’m fine.”

  She reached for the bandage, but stopped herself before touching it, only to see about a half-dozen small burns between his forearms and the hem of his T-shirt.

  “What happened?”

  He touched his fingers to her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. “I’m fine. It’s nothing.”

  “You look like you’ve been in a battle. Did your stove explode or something?”

  He laughed. “Mathias and I have been working with metal. It’s not going well, but I’m fine. It’s been fun, but if we want to continue, we’re going to need some training.”

  “And fire protection,” she said, lightly tracing the burns. “Did you put anything on these?”

  “Yes.”

  She glared at him. “You’re lying. You didn’t do anything.”