Kennedy shrugged, her green eyes dreamy. “I’m just happy to finally be with my Xander.”
Propping her chin on one fist, Cayla sighed. “They’re disgustingly happy. Join me in my moment of envy.”
Misty laughed. “I’m not looking for a man.”
“Well, neither am I. I’d like to be more rid of the old one than I am. But damn, I’d love to be that kind of happy.”
“Fine,” Misty conceded. “Maybe I’d change my mind if I had a guy who looked at me the way Xander looks at Kennedy.”
Kennedy squirmed a little. “This is a wedding planning meeting, is it not?”
“Yes, yes, back to work,” Cayla said, diving back into her planner and coming out with photos of the barn’s interior. “Now, I think we can use some kind of fabric swags or drapes to hide the less attractive sections of the barn, like the hay loft where y’all have stuff stored. And we’ll use the crap out of some white twinkle lights and some of that pretty outdoor lighting like you see on restaurant patios sometimes.”
“That sounds good,” Misty agreed. “And of course, I can use floral arrangements to direct people’s attention down the aisle and toward whatever you deem is the front. But it might be nice to have a focal point since there’s no real altar. Something to give it some pizzazz.”
Kennedy looked intrigued. “Like what?”
“An arbor maybe. Something I can twine with flowers and ribbon. It could be done up really pretty and in your colors.”
Cayla clapped her hands once, pressing her lips together in an obvious effort to hold in a squee.
Misty smiled. “I recognize your lightbulb moment. What are you thinking?”
Instead of answering, Cayla waved her hand. “Denver! Come here a sec.”
What the hell? Are we ordering more drinks?
Denver left the sanctity of the bar and strode over, his long legs eating up the distance. “Yeah?”
“How much do you love Kennedy?”
He didn’t even blink. “Enough not to complain that her break’s run over for wedding planning.” It wasn’t said in a teasing tone, just matter-of-fact.
But Cayla wasn’t put off in the least. “How ’bout enough to build something for the wedding?”
Build something? He’s a bartender.
Denver frowned, his brows drawing down over cool gray eyes. “Like what?”
“An arbor. Something Misty can train some flowers around and on. I’ve seen your woodworking. It’s totally in your wheelhouse.” Cayla gestured to the bar. “He carved all that himself.”
Collectively, they all shifted to look at the bar, with its subtly beautiful pattern carved into the side panels. Misty hadn’t ever really noticed it before because there was usually a crowd of people blocking it. She wanted to get up, get a closer look, but Denver shifted his gaze to her, pinning her in place.
“You want me to build an arbor?”
Something about the way the question was directed at her, or maybe it was just his focus on her, made Misty feel somehow like his target. She pointed at Cayla. “I want someone to build an arbor. She’s the one throwing you under the bus.”
Cayla clasped her hands in prayer position and gave him The Face—an adult version of the one her four-year-old regularly employed. “Please, Denver. For me? For Kennedy? For love?”
He winced. “If I do it, will you stop with all the gushy shit?”
Cayla crossed her heart with one finger.
Face set in lines of resignation, he sighed and looked at the bride to be. “Fine. What exactly do you want?”
Kennedy held up her hands. “Don’t look at me. It’s Misty’s concept.”
Cayla shook her head in mock disappointment. “I swear, you’d get married in blue jeans if not for me. Anyway, you are the least fussy bride on Earth. So here’s the date we need it by,” she scribbled something on a sheet of paper and shoved it across the table at him, “and what we’re thinking we can spend on it. Let me know if that doesn’t work. You and Misty get together to sort out the details of what she needs and what you can actually put together in that amount of time.”