Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 134746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
My dress is an explosion of white taffeta with black-and-pink net patches, irregular and ragged and so me.
When I told him what I wanted, he just smiled patiently and said, “I know, brat.”
It’s so nice to have a man who gets me.
One who doesn’t mind a wedding that looks like someone spilled pink-and-black paint everywhere to complement the traditional gauze, white silk, white roses like a mad artistic impression.
It’s so me.
It’s so us.
And I can’t believe he put this together.
Everything from the napkins to the cake have pink-and-black accents. Even my makeup has pink and black in the wings around my eyes, and the white bouquet of roses has little sprays of pink-and-black-dyed flowers.
I cannot wait to be married.
So why am I about to hyperventilate as the guests file in and sit?
I peek out from behind a curtain in the staging area.
“Look at all those people,” I mutter sharply. “Why are there so many people?”
“Because,” Gran says mildly, adjusting my corset. “Your fiancé is a famous billionaire; you’re a beloved children’s author. Your matrons of honor are an even more famous author and her lovely girlfriend.”
Behind us, Yvette giggles. “I still can’t get over that. Girlfriend!”
“Get used to it, my darling.” Clara nuzzles her cheek. She’s smart and trim in a women’s black silk tailored tuxedo with black embroidery and pink lapels. “You’re not going anywhere again.”
I have to look away from them, blushing. “No wonder Marissa refuses to be seen in public with you. You’re embarrassing,” I tease.
“We’re in love,” Clara throws back shamelessly. “And so are you, dear. Don’t think I haven’t caught you and August making out in the hall at every family dinner.”
“You’re not supposed to look!” I gasp, and Clara, Yvette, Grandma, and Lena all snicker.
Lena’s awkward in her pink-and-black bridesmaid’s gown. Not because the dress is bad, but because Lena hates dresses and turns into a human coatrack any time she puts one on. She saunters over to tweak a curl of my hair.
“Stop panicking. Go out there and get married already.”
“So I can take this awful dress off,” Marissa mumbles, sulking in a corner. “Why did you even ask me to be a bridesmaid? Are we friends?”
I look up at her.
Are we?
I just smile and look at her. “Because you wanted to be one, and your feelings would have been hurt if I hadn’t. And because I like you. And you just don’t want to admit you like me, and wanted to be part of this.”
Marissa gasps, then glowers at me.
Yvette grins.
“She’s got you pegged, dear.”
“Mom, shut up.”
Everyone chuckles. I shake my head fondly.
Marissa’s practically going through a second adolescence with her mom, but she seems to be doing that much better for it.
It’s crazy how much can change in barely a year.
Relationship dynamics, friendships, family, work, life.
I tripped over August and fell into the life I was meant for, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Everyone decent?” One of the ushers peeks in with his eyes closed.
“Decent enough,” I answer.
He opens his eyes, smiling. “We’re ready when you are, then. Everyone’s seated, all guests accounted for, the priest ready, and the groom’s party is waiting. Give us the signal and we’ll start, ma’am.”
My smile fades.
I take a shaky breath.
Gran grips my shoulders, squeezing tight.
“You’re ready, sweetness,” she reassures me. “You’ve always faced everything head on. Now go see your groom.”
I nod quickly, breathing hard, and flash a smile at the usher.
“Okay. We’re ready.”
And away we go.
It’s surreal to be standing here, listening to the music start up on the other side.
To feel like this is leading up to me and then to eternity as everyone files out—leaving only Gran and me. My parents are here, sitting there in the audience, but it’s Grandma Jackie who’s giving me away.
She’s earned the right.
She’s the one who’s held me together my whole life.
Just like she’s holding me together now, her arm tucked lovingly in mine, keeping me stable as I wait for the magic moment in the music that tells me it’s my turn.
When it comes, we walk out together.
I get to see August for the first time since we woke up together, before we were swept away by our respective parties to get ready for the big day—and for the rest of our lives.
He waits by the altar, tall and straight and handsome in his tux. The perfect cut of it can’t hide the powerful body underneath.
His militant posture reminds me how much he likes to control me in bed, even while he lets me drag him around with my whims everywhere else. His cummerbund and the neckband are the same deep vivid pink as the accents on my dress and the decor, and so is his pocket square.
His hair is picture perfect—except for that one wild strand, arcing over his brow.
But he’s smiling like the sun.