Florist West Walker loves weddings. When two gorgeous men walk into his shop for a consultation, he thinks they're the best looking grooms. Finding out Monroe Peters is just there to support his brother makes West's instant attraction to the man acceptable.
When Monroe shows up at the shop with a special request, West agrees. And when Monroe asks West to stay at the wedding as his guest, West is thrilled.
Can a magical wedding, the perfect arrangement, and kisses in the moonlight be all these two men need to start their own journey to a happily ever after?
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"Wait! Do you have extra flowers?"
I turned to face him again. I did because I always brought some extra in case anything was damaged in transit or something happened during set up. I know my confusion showed, because Monroe was quick to explain.
"For the cake." Monroe gestured with his chin toward the three tiered white, pink, and red confection sitting on the far table. It was understated but beautiful, and it was definitely lacking a topper.
I wrinkled my brow. "You're not supposed to mess with people's work. The baker probably just hasn't put the topper on yet."
It didn't look like one of Missy's creations, and I'd seen just about every version of wedding cakes the proprietor of Sweet Treats had concocted. It was possible Lincoln had brought one in from a neighboring town, or even from further, but somehow that didn't seem like him.
My question was answered when Monroe let out a deep laugh, and his eyes alighted with mirth.
"Well, it's my work, so I figure I can mess with it however I like. Lincoln gave me free rein."
Something inside me bubbled and burst, though I couldn't put a name to it. Monroe had made the cake? He baked? I was a sucker for a man who was good in the kitchen and even though I had no idea how that beautiful confection tasted, it looked stunning, and that won a lot of points.
"Uh, yeah. Uh." I shook my head and all but fled back to the van. When I raced back inside, Monroe was just getting to the door.
"Wondered where you went," he murmured, stepping close.
I had to curb my reaction so I thrust the box awkwardly at him. "Extras!"
He muttered something that sounded like "you're adorable," but he took the box and I knew the way his fingers brushed mine was deliberate. His grin this time was definitely flirty. "Flowers aren't my thing. Come help?"
I trailed behind him and if my gaze dropped to his ass in the tight fitting tuxedo pants, no one could blame me. He was so damn good looking. By the time we reached the table, I had my drooling under control and I also realized we had a problem. You couldn't just smoosh real flowers into a cake without preparing them properly.
But Monroe was already a step ahead of me. He had a roll of floral tape and a bag of wide straws sitting next to the cake, and as he started to pick through the box, I just watched. He hummed as he worked, choosing calla lilies and some amaryllis, and then a touch of greenery. He fussed a little, setting them on the table and making a mockup of what he wanted. I could see what he was going for, but not quite achieving.
"Here," I murmured, stepping into his space. Instead of moving out of the way, I swear he actually leaned closer. Ignoring his heat as best I could, I rearranged the flowers a little so that the amaryllis blossoms spread out a bit more and surrounded the two callas.
"Perfection." Monroe's breath gusted across my cheek. I didn't turn to look at him, but I knew I was smiling.
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