“Relaxed?” he asked.
“Uh-huh.”
“Close your eyes.”
They were already closed, but she wasn’t about to spoil the moment. He massaged her neck and moved up, his hands in her hair.
“I want you to start over,” he said softly. “I want you to tell me about the frames now that you have some distance. Can you do that?”
As long as he kept touching her this way, she could do anything. Kelsey nodded.
“Now,” he prompted.
With her eyes still closed, she took a breath. “We need to make a decision about engraving the place card holders.”
“Tell me why we shouldn’t engrave them.”
He was doing amazing things with her scalp and hair. Those hands of his, those remarkable hands. She sighed.
“Tell me why,” he repeated.
“If Faith doesn’t show up, we can use them for the anniversary party.”
He removed his hands. “See?”
She opened her eyes. “See what?”
“You’re back.”
Kelsey stilled and waited. No errant thoughts came to her head. No emotional reasons for any decision to be made. No sign of bridal anxiety. “Thank you.”
“Anytime.” He motioned to the silver heart on the table. “So, the frames…”
“If they’re engraved, the frames will join the rest of Faith’s and her groom du jour’s cache of engraved favors—five hundred fishbowls, four hundred bottles of champagne and flutes, three hundred sandcastles, two hundred gold snuff boxes and another two hundred silver tussie-mussies.”
“Tussie-mussies?”
“It’s from the Regency period, Jane Austen times, and shaped like a cone. Ladies used them to hold their hand-tied flower bouquets at balls. Each flower had a symbolic meaning—”
“More information than I need or want to know.”
“You asked.” Kelsey, the wedding designer, was back; Kelsey, the overstressed bride, was gone. That wasn’t about to happen again. She tilted her chin. “And now I’m asking. You know what I want. You know what your mother wants. You have the deciding vote.”
Will sat in his chair across the table from Kelsey. “I abstain.”
“Not an option.”
His brows drew together in thought. “Engrave the date on the frames and leave off the names.”
“I can live with that. Date on frame, no names.” Kelsey jotted a note on one of her many lists. She glanced up at Will. “You make a fine mediator.”
“It’s a necessary skill to develop with two younger sisters.” He leaned back in his chair. “Any more decisions we need to make today?”
She checked her list. “No, but we need to work on the favors. We can set up at the end of the table.”
“Wait a minute.” A lock of hair fell across his forehead, and he brushed it back.
Kelsey wished she could have been the one—no, she didn’t.
