Well-Tailored (Thorne and Dash 4)

“I’m not sure either of us is in a clubbing mood,” Riley said.

They’d agreed to go dancing together that night as they often did when Thorne was out of town.

“You want to come over tonight instead? We can order pizza, and I can show you the flowers and invitations we’ve picked out. Maybe we can even make a few hundred other decisions.”

“You do remember how to say no, right? You used to be good at it.” Marc was more than a little concerned that Riley’s wedding planner was taking advantage of his eagerness.

Riley narrowed his eyes. “Why? Are you planning to seduce me?”

That was more like the old Riley. “Ha. I’m not that desperate.”

“I happen to know just how desperate I could make you.” They’d never been more than fuck buddies, and that was ages ago, but Riley knew how to make Marc squirm and vice versa.

“As if. I’d have you panting for it in seconds. I was referring to saying no to this wedding planner. She seems a bit pushy.”

“Maybe. But I don’t know what I’m doing, and—”

Good thing he’d asked for Marc’s help. It sounded like he needed an intervention. “There’s no right or wrong way to do this.”

Riley sighed. “But Thorne is…”

“Wealthy and can do whatever the fuck he wants, and so can you.” Marc glanced at his phone. “I’d better go, or I’ll be late. You coming with me so you can ask Darius about tuxes?”

“Sure. You should bring him, you know.”

Marc froze. “Bring him where?”

“To the wedding.”

That was a terrible idea.

Or was it? It was a date, but not the same as asking him to dinner or dancing or something.

No. It was definitely a terrible idea. “I can’t. He doesn’t date employees, remember?”

“It’s a wedding. You can say you’re going as friends.”

“Okay, I’ll think about it.” If Riley believed him, then he might not ask again for a while.

***

Marc arrived at Riley’s apartment with a six-pack of one of Riley’s favorite local beers, certain they’d both need the fortification.

“I ordered a pizza,” Riley said after he let Marc in. “It should be here soon, but first you’ve got to see some of this shit on the websites my planner sent me.”

Marc prepared himself to be amazed. Riley had folders and glossy papers spread over the dining table. Marc sat down next to him and glanced at his iPad. Front and center was a picture of brightly colored glass dolphins filled with rainbow glitter. Apparently they were intended to be wedding favors.

“Who the fuck would give these out at their wedding?” Riley asked, jabbing his finger at the screen.

“I have no idea.” Marc looked on in horror as Riley scrolled through more options and then moved on to decorations.

“Did you know that for the bargain price of sixteen dollars each you can have marzipan swans decorating the tables?” Riley asked.

This wedding planner needed her head examined. “Um…wow.”

Riley set the iPad down and buried his face in his hands. “I hate all this stuff.”

“How about going with wildflower bouquets instead?” Neither Riley nor Thorne were flashy. They needed something simple.

Riley looked like a drowning man who finally had a lifeline in reach. “Yes. That’s exactly what Thorne would want.”

“Excellent. Problem solved.”

Riley sighed. “I’m also supposed to pick out guest favors.”

“A gift card for your bakery? Pastries are never wrong.” That seemed obvious. Marc grabbed the iPad. The wedding-favors site was such a train wreck, he couldn’t stop looking.

“Pastries are perfect. How do you decide about this shit without even thinking about it?”

“One. It’s not my wedding. And two. I’ve not been inundated with things like glitter dolphins and candy swans.” Marc laid the iPad aside. “Stop looking at this shit, and fire your planner. She’s out of control.”

Riley frowned. “Yeah, I know.”

The doorbell rang. “I’ll get the pizza,” Marc said.

“Thanks.” Riley took his iPad back, turned it off, and laid it aside. “I’ll get plates and open some beers.”

Marc struggled to find room on the table for the pizza box until Riley shoved aside the wedding paraphernalia that had collected on the table.

Marc set the box down and gestured toward the pile of crap. “This is bullshit. There’s got to be something more important for you to focus on.”

Riley flipped through some papers and studied a list. “We should choose a photographer and a caterer. I think those are the truly time-critical things.”

After they talked through a few options, Riley looked much happier. “You make this all sound so easy.”

“It’s not easy. And I know there are other things you really do have to arrange, but all this extra nonsense… Just pick something classic and go with it. Simple is best.”

“Says the man who owns a pink feather boa and a sweater that sheds glitter.”

Marc gave him a mock glare. “Hush. We’re talking weddings, not my wardrobe.”

Riley’s lips curled up in a smile. “Right. Do you need to go back to your place tonight?”