In Your Pucking Dreams (Kings of Denver #2) Read Online Sheridan Anne

Categories Genre: College, Contemporary, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Kings of Denver Series by Sheridan Anne
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Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 84294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
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Logan closes the door, and we all stand out in the hallway, the boys as happy as ever while I’m being squished in between their muscles. I hear more loud noises from behind the door before something smashes, and I look up at Sean. “Tom is smashed and running around naked. You know how he gets,” he explains about his best friend. “You probably don’t want to go in there.”

“Yeah,” I say. “I think you’re right about that.”

“Has anybody seen Cassandra?” Comes a high-pitched yell from above.

“Damn it,” I groan. “I think I’m needed.”

The boys laugh, knowing just how much I hate the torture of getting my hair and makeup done. “Run along, young one,” Carter smirks.

I flip them off before heading up the stairs, quickly ducking into my old childhood bedroom to grab my bridesmaid dress before pushing through the doors to the massive bridal suite. The room is in chaos. The girls are sipping champagne in little silk robes, all color coordinated, of course, while they sing along to music and get their makeup started. Sara, the bride, sits with her feet up on a stool, getting a pedicure while the hairdresser works on a beautiful up-do.

“Cassie,” she squeals as I make my presence known. “How are you?”

“Good,” I say, walking deeper into the room, a smile spreading wide over my face. “Have you seen the place? It’s absolutely stunning.”

“No, I haven’t,” she smiles before gripping my arms, her eyes widening. “Tell me they got the swans?”

“Yes, I saw some idiot out front struggling to get the bastards out to the lake. Quite funny actually,” I laugh. “The poor swans were being assholes and ganging up on him, but they seemed really happy in the lake. You know, once they got there.”

Her face melts into joyfulness. “Oh, thank God.”

I’m about to say hi to the rest of the girls when some lady snatches the dress out of my hand and scoots me over to a chair. Within a few seconds, she rips my ponytail out of its hair tie while someone else comes at me with a face wipe. I let out a sigh and give in to the torture. This will go quicker if I just tune it all out and try to enjoy myself.

Someone shoves a champagne flute into my hand, and I get lost in the music while the people around me start the pampering process, and I’m forced to admit that it’s really not so bad. I could definitely get used to this.

An hour later, we start getting into our gowns, and with my hair and makeup done, it takes my breath away. The silver strappy gown sticks to me like a second skin and drops between my breasts, showing off the perfect amount of cleavage.

My gaze follows the line of the dress down to where it flares with the slightest train. I know the second the sun reflects off the material, it’s going to sparkle like a Cullen and take my breath away. I slowly turn in the mirror to get a look at the back, and a grin stretches across my face. The dress dips right down and scoops just above my ass, showing off my sculpted back.

With a smile, I slip on my heels and give myself another once over. I feel like a glamorous celebrity about to take the red carpet. The last time I felt or looked this good was my senior prom where I had the man of my dreams on my arm. How things have changed.

The photographer comes around, and that’s another event on its own. It takes forever, and I feel like my feet are already going to fall off, but I smile and do it for my big brother. We get pictures pretending we’re getting dressed, pictures of the makeup artist touching up our already perfect makeup, and of course, pictures of girls helping the bride into her dress. Next, we head all over the property, getting every shot possible, and I dread the time between the ceremony and the reception when we’re going to have to do it all over again with the boys. But of course, I’ll smile for my big brother.

We’re ushered back upstairs where Sara’s parents are waiting, and we’re given the half-hour call. I slip off my shoes and take a seat to wait patiently. The wedding planner comes up and gives us the rundown of how the ceremony is going to work. Who is going to walk down in what order, who holds Sara’s bouquet while she can’t, blah, blah, blah.

Finally, it’s go time.

Some guy in a suit ushers us down the stairs, and out a separate backdoor leading to a small gazebo area—an area that Jax and I had coveted as our own. I cringe at the memories that assault me seeing this place, but do my best to put it behind me. I can sulk all I want about Jax tomorrow. Today is Sean’s day.


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