He bit back a smile, because it made him remember the barbells in Caspian’s nipples. Why he still wore them would remain a mystery, because Gunner didn’t dare ask. “Can I help you with anything?”
“I was hoping you’d ask. What are you doing this Friday?” She grinned and knocked on the donut board Gunner had set up.
Gunner didn’t think the Bradys had anything planned. “Don’t know yet. Why? You need a piercing station made?” He winked, pointing to the board, but cringed on the inside. He shouldn’t have said that. This was the bride’s friend, and the last thing he needed was finding out from Barb that someone complained about his behavior. He kept working on his self-control, but sometimes his mouth spewed things and nothing could be done about it.
But she didn’t seem offended and chuckled. “No. My plus one decided to run off to the other side of the country without telling me, and you look like a worthy replacement,” she said, letting her gaze linger on his tattooed arms.
Gunner raised his eyebrows. “Oh. Oh. I do?” He wasn’t used to women hitting on him. Usually, he scared them off with his looks even if they considered him attractive, and since he never made the first move, he lived in a happy catch-22.
But now was the time to make a decision, because he’d either reject her and risk the consequences, if she felt offended, or go with the flow the way he always did and—what—end up with another girlfriend?
“Big. Dangerous. Just the way I like them,” she teased but didn’t approach, as if she hadn’t yet decided if he were the biting type or not.
Sink or swim.
“I… I’m gay,” he mumbled with his heart pounding as if it wanted to launch into space.
She laughed. He stared. Her laugh died.
“Oh. You’re serious,” she said with wide eyes. “Sorry.”
Gunner could hardly hear her through the blood thudding in his ears. “No, it’s okay. You couldn’t know. I… I could still go with you. Just… yeah.”
The woman relaxed and waved her hand through the air. “It was worth a try.”
They smiled at each other, and Gunner felt overcome by a weird weightlessness, as if the shackles he’d always worn had crumbled to pieces. But Katie sent him a message, asking for his presence in the main building, which kept him from agonizing about what he’d just done. He said his goodbyes to the goth chick and rushed off, ready to hear about whatever dramatic turn of events stressed out Katie this time. Chair covers arriving in a hot pink instead of pastel? The plastic pony sculpture having unwanted genitals? It had happened before, and it had been Gunner’s job to saw off the horse cock, then sand down its crotch.
Katie waved at him from the wooden arch that had been custom-made for the occasion. He saw what the issue was from afar.
Lionel had been right about the size of the thing. Both the bride and groom fit under the contraption, but her head was too close to the highest point of the arch and would look terrible in photos.
“Gunner, do you think we can bring the arch up altogether? From the bottom?” Katie asked as soon as he approached.
Gunner shrugged and cocked his head. “Sure, we’ll just need more wooden crates.”
Katie sighed. “And more of the flowers to cover them…”
The groom smiled and kissed his bride’s hand. “Anything for my queen.”
A part of Gunner wanted to laugh at the image, considering their size difference, but their affection was kind of endearing. It made him imagine a world where it didn’t matter to Caspian that Gunner wasn’t a cute twink anymore.
If a guy didn’t have an issue with marrying a woman who was so much taller than him, and Lionel dated a guy with completely different interests, then maybe he didn’t have to feel ashamed about who he was?
Easier said than done, of course, but one had to start somewhere.
“We’ll take care of it, don’t worry,” Lionel said and gestured toward a steep flower bed filled with red and pink tulips. “This is where we’re planning to set up the photo booth. Katie, would you take them through the details?” he asked, and his assistant led away the happy couple.
That left Gunner with Lionel and Fay, an artist who often made custom decorations for Barb’s company and had a penchant for flower crowns.
Gunner scratched his head and scooted to get a better look at the bottom of the arch. “I’d rather the carpenter did this, really. We don’t want all this wood falling on them as they say their vows…”
Fay smiled, typing on her phone. “I’m texting him right now. Lionel? Guess who my brother has a date with tonight…”
Lionel gave a little gasp. “Is it our prince?”
“The very same,” Fay said with a grin. “My brother is a stick of dynamite. Poor Caspian won’t know what hit him.”