Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
No. Just don’t.
I knew what I was doing when I agreed to come here. I knew what this was and what this wasn’t. I knew where this could go and where it couldn’t. No one was suffering any delusions or making any false promises. The truth was always right in front of my face. And as long as I kept it in plain sight, I’d be fine.
I fluffed my hair, wiped the smudged eye makeup from beneath my eyes, and went back into the room. The sight of him, rugged and gorgeous and looking concerned, wasn’t good for my heart.
“Hey,” he said, his forehead wrinkling. “You okay?”
“Of course.”
“Come here.” He opened his arms to me, and I crawled onto the bed and snuggled up against his side. “That’s better.”
“Do you have to work tonight?”
“No. I’m doing building security risk assessment here. We work during the day.” He kissed my head. “What should we do? Gamble? See an Elvis impersonator? Go clubbing?”
“Clubbing!” I laughed. “You’re talking to a woman that gets in bed almost every night by nine. We are too old to go clubbing. They’d probably turn us away at the door, Grandpa.”
He inhaled sharply. “Oh, you are begging for punishment, aren’t you?” He put his hand in my hair and tightened his fist, making me wince. My scalp tingled with pleasure and pain as he tipped my head back. His eyes narrowed. His voice deepened. “Aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
He clenched his hand tighter. “Yes, what? Where are my good girl’s manners?”
“Yes, please.”
His fist relaxed slightly. “That’s better. Now I think you better lie across my lap so I can teach you a lesson.”
Grinning, I did as requested—my body was up for some hurting tonight, but at least if we played games, my heart was safe.
For now.
The following morning, I drove the car Zach had gotten for me over to Marigold Bridal Wholesale, where I’d scheduled an eleven o’clock appointment.
Marigold was family-owned, and I was greeted by the Songs, a friendly husband and wife team who led me on a brief tour of the factory before ushering me into the showroom.
I couldn’t help but get excited by all the gorgeous tulle and beading and lace. The Songs’ daughter, Nicole, introduced herself and showed me what was new, what was popular, what was evergreen, and what she suspected the trend-setting brides would be wearing next year. I saw veils with every possible edge—corded and pearl and horsehair and ribbon and soutache—as well as every variety of length and style, from birdcage to flyaway to waist to chapel to cathedral. Colors ranged from white to ivory to champagne to moscato to blush. There were hair accessories too.
“The cool girls are still going for birdcage,” said Nicole, “but I also think a lot of trendy brides will forego veils this year and do things like bows, barrettes or clips, and even some caps or hoods.”
“Oh, the big satin bow is cute, isn’t it?” I took it off a display shelf and turned it over in my hand.
“Definitely.” She grinned. “Want to try it on?”
“No, that’s okay.” I laughed as I replaced it. “I’m a little old for a big bow, I’d feel silly. I think I’d go more traditional.”
“Traditional brides are going for drama,” said Nicole. “Look at this.” She took a floral-embroidered veil from the wall and brought it over. “Isn’t it gorgeous?”
I gasped, gently touching the edge. “It is.”
“Face the mirror. Let me show you what it looks like on.”
Turning around, I faced the middle of three full-length mirrors with ornate silver frames. I’d worn my hair half-up today, and Nicole centered the veil’s comb where my barrette held my hair back. “Look at that,” she said, adjusting the sides so they cascaded down in front of my arms. Then she knelt and spread the chapel-length veil in a semi-circle that fanned out like a peacock’s feathers on the floor at my feet. “Stunning, right?”
“It is,” I whispered, staring at myself in the glass. My clothes—a black, cap-sleeved, belted jumpsuit worn with leopard pumps—didn’t really scream bridal attire, but it was easy to imagine the dress that would complement this veil—something long and sleek and embroidered, with a deep V neck or maybe strapless, and a hint of a mermaid shape. The hair on my arms stood on end.
“It suits you.” Nicole smiled at me in the mirror and stood back, her arms folded. “Are you married already?”
“No.”
“Engaged?”
I shook my head.
“Well, if and when the time comes, maybe you’ll choose something like this.”
“Maybe.” My throat was dry. I glanced down at my left hand, which seemed extra naked right now. “Right now, I’m just trying to get my store going. I don’t have much time to date.”
“I totally understand,” she said, removing the veil from my head. “And there’s no rush, you know? Live a little. Have fun. When it’s meant to be, it will happen.”