I laughed. “Noël, I didn’t do any of this. These were all your ideas.” He sputtered and spun in my arms. I kissed his nose. “You came up with this. I told you I’d make it happen.” “I did not imagine this.” He pointed behind him, his finger circling the yard and the fairy-tale evening. “This is beyond. Beyond, Wyatt. You”—he bounced his finger off the center of my chest—“should be an events manager. You’ll put everyone out of a job.”
