Best Man

Best Man
Second Edition
Will Okati
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2024 Will Okati

If a man acted as if he belonged in any given place, people usually didn’t ask questions. Alexander took the steps at an easygoing pace and casually strolled to the lovely man’s side. “Need a hand?”

“I could use three, to be honest.” Pretty eased a double stack of linen napery on a bare table and stretched his arms, pulling each at the wrists to release the cramped muscles. Alexander could massage those for him, but… later. “Do I know you?”

Beauty and brains. “Not in the least,” Alexander replied, twinkling at him. “I was passing by and thought I’d see if Good Samaritans were still in style.”

Pretty rubbed his arms as he gave Alexander a once-over of bemusement and perhaps a bit of appreciation. “At least you’re honest. If you promise not to take off with a box of table favors or hit on one of the bridesmaids, then be my guest. I’m serious about the bridesmaids. I love my sister -- the bride -- but if one more thing sends her off the deep end --”

Alexander laughed. “Don’t worry. About the bride or the bridesmaids.” He winked. “They aren’t what caught my eye.”

“Is that a fact?” Pretty’s cheeks turning faintly pink, and the appearance of a small smile gave him away. “That makes two of us.”

“You’re honest, too. And beautiful.”

The pink darkened to crimson. “And you’re a flatterer.” That would have been worrisome if he hadn’t grinned at him and pushed one-half of the napery Alexander’s way. “If you’re sure you want to get involved in the madness… then you can be my guest.”

“You can trust me,” Alexander said, ripe with confidence. “Watch.” He took the top cloth off the stack and gave it a good snap, meant to send a long cloth billowing out.

It would have been more impressive if said cloth hadn’t turned out to be a dinner napkin.

Pretty burst into laughter. “I have to keep you now. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I turned you out to wreak havoc on general society.” His cheeks remained pink and his blue eyes lambent. He offered his hand. “Noah McMasters. Call me Noah.”

Alexander took Noah’s hand. A very nice hand it was, too, slim and smooth but firm. “Alexander.”

A hint of dimples enriched Noah’s smile. “Just Alexander?”

“I have a surname, but I’ll make you work for that one.” Alexander winked at Noah -- the name fit him as well as a tailored glove, small and lovely -- and draped the napkin over his arm. He clicked his heels together and bowed from the waist. “Right now, I await your command. Tell me what you want from me and I’m yours.”

Noah ran him over with an assessing gaze, and no, “ran him over” wasn’t hyperbole. Technically, yes, but the sense of his taking Alexander’s measure left Alexander feeling as if he’d been subjected to the tender mercies of a steamroller with amorous intentions.

Amorous, though, that was good. And clever. That was better.

“What would you have done if I’d told you that I didn’t need help?”

Alexander gave that the consideration it was due; precisely half a second. “I’d have tried my luck down a different road that led to the same place, because if all this has to get laid out before the wedding, which I’m guesstimating is less than an hour or two away --” he waited for Noah’s nod --”you need the help. So why not? And if you want me to hit the road instead, all you have to do is say. I’ll wish you well and be on my way.”

Noah snorted delicately. “I actually believe you, and that makes you different from at least seventy-five percent of the guys I’ve known.”

“Wait.” Alexander dropped his handful of cutlery with a clatter. “How many of those guys --?”

“One ‘no really means yes, doesn’t it?’ was all it took,” Noah said. “I push the rest out at arm’s length as soon as I know what I’m dealing with. I’m pretty and I’m small, but I learn quickly, I’m sneaky and I’m fast and I don’t fight by the Marquis of Queensbury rules.” He laughed. “Look at you. I can tell what’s going through your head right now, you know. Where do I find them and how do I hurt them?”

“If you’d ever let me finish a sentence, I might confirm that.”

“I find preempting the obvious saves time and I take it as a personal challenge.”

Noah hefted the crate that looked far too heavy for him onto his hip and nodded toward the tables. “I’ll say leave the linens alone, but if you’re determined to lend a hand, then get lending. Follow behind me and lay out the candles and other claptrap. Deal?”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

“Sir. I could get used to that. Come on, this way. We’ll start at the end and work our way up. I like to take my time and do it right.”

“No sense in not bringing your A-game if the situation calls for it.”

Noah chuckled. “You’re adorable when you try to flirt.” He separated the napkins from the tablecloths and handed Alexander half. “Are you coming?”

Yes, and probably very soon.