She gently places her purse on the counter and her eyes finally take in Mia and Jo who are slouching at the table, cradling their heads within their hands. She bursts out into a roar of laughter. “Oh Lord, you two look like shit!”
Jo slowly lifts her head and flips her the bird, with a deadpan expression on her face. Mia also lifts her head, wincing at the sound of Riley’s continuous laughter as she forces her dark, pissed off eyes into her direction. “I hate you. The chisel that has taken residency in my head is your fault.” She points her head in my direction. “Ava can be my new maid of honor. You’re fired.”
If it weren’t for the uplifted tilt of her mouth I would have thought she was being serious. Riley’s smile stays in place. “Don’t be a bitch because you can’t handle your alcohol intake. I only planned the bachelorette party. I didn’t force those drinks down you.”
“Like hell you didn’t. You practically force-fed me those jello shots. And don’t even get me started on the stripper.” I feel myself blush as last night comes back to me as the highly explicit sex positions he was simulating on her comes to mind. I’m pretty certain he was tenting an overly large erection through his tight boxer shorts at one point.
“Oh, you loved it! Just admit it. It was the best bachelorette party ever.”
Mia pivots her head to one side and a smile brightens her face. “It was an awesome bachelorette party,” she admits with a nod of the head. “But no more strippers. Ever. Tyler would barely speak to me at breakfast this morning—once I finally managed to stop puking my guts up that is.” She winces, no doubt from the not-so-fond memory of vomiting. “It’s not exactly the way I want our marriage to begin.”
Riley walks the few steps over to Mia and kisses the top of her head. “No more strippers, I promise.” She steps back, clapping her hands together as if trying to mentally prepare for the big day ahead. “Okay! We have a busy day today. The delivery guys have just pulled up with the chairs, so I’m going to need some muscle to carry them.” Her eyes land on Ashton, and she smiles as if she’s won the jackpot. She walks over to him with an extra shake to her hips—yep I see it—and slides her manicured fingers over his bicep, a move that gets my blood boiling in an instant.
“Just the perfect kind of muscle,” she says giving his arm a squeeze, giggling as she does. Is she seriously groping my fiancé’s bicep right now?
She glances at me. “Do you mind if I borrow him for a couple of hours?” Her words come out in a syrupy sensual tone, as if every word is dripping with a hidden innuendo, while her hand still stays wrapped around his bicep.
Yep. She is definitely groping his bicep. And why the hell is he just letting her?
I bite back my irritation with a tight smile. “Sure.”
She must hear the irritation in my voice as her fingers loosen their hold and her hand drops. However, it doesn’t go far; she drops her hand only to loop her arm through his.
“I’ll bring him back in good shape, I promise.”
She begins to lead him out of the kitchen as Tyler walks in frowning. Riley’s eyes pin him down with a purposeful stare.
“Oh perfect timing! I need your muscles, Bailey. Come with me.”
“O … kay ...” he says with a delayed reaction, shooting Mia a terrified glare; one that says ‘help me’ which only makes her laugh.
Riley loops her other arm through Tyler’s arm and laughter escapes her mouth. “Oh, my own Bailey sandwich! It’s like a dream come true,” she says excitedly and even though I can hear the humor in her voice, it still pisses me off.
Before they’re whisked away to help with the mammoth lifting, Ashton’s eyes connect with mine and with the most heartfelt stare he mouths the words, “I love you.”
I give out a dreamy smile before mouthing, “I love you, too.” He sends me a wink and then he’s gone. All previous agitated thoughts instantly vanish and it takes Alana a few clicks of her fingers to bring me back to the now.
“You have it bad for my son, huh?” I blink as her words sink in, my cheeks blushing as a burst of laughter escapes my lips.
I do have it bad for her son.
Ridiculously so.
My feet ache. No, actually, ache is an understatement.
My feet feel as if I’m walking on heated coals and broken glass all at the same time. The sweltering Texan heat isn’t helping either, making my choice of wearing Converse this morning a regretful one. Blisters feel like the bane of my life right now.
I’ve been helping Alana and Mia with wedding errands all day, getting everything ready for the big day tomorrow. I had no idea what went into planning a wedding, but with the flurry of different deliveries of flowers, hired tents and furniture, decorations, twinkly lights, and not to mention all the last-minute additions that seriously make your head want to explode, I most definitely underestimated the planning behind it all. It’s definitely an eye-opener for when I finally plan my wedding. Although, if this is what it takes to make one day run smoothly, I’d rather elope to an exotic beach somewhere with a handful of our family surrounding us.
After returning from one of the many errand trips of the day, hauling a garment bag with Mia’s wedding dress inside—a dress that probably weighs more than she does—I head on upstairs and hang the garment bag on the back of the door of the guest room. Alana and Mia follow, each carrying two garment bags containing the bridesmaid dresses, and hang them on a garment rail. I frown, confused, when I take in the four garment bags. I was certain Mia was only having three bridesmaids—Riley, Jo, and her cousin Rachel—but maybe the fourth garment bag is Alana’s mother-of-the-groom outfit.
Mia lets out a long yawn, her eyes brimming with tears. She still looks terrible with her pale complexion and dark bags prominent under her eyes.
“Why don’t you go and lie down for a little while?” Alana says to Mia, whose eyes look as if they’re struggling to stay open. She gives a shake of the head but before Mia can argue, Alana beats her to it. “I’ll finish up … we haven’t got that much to do now. I just have to go through the seating plan again and speak to the caterers to make sure everything is on schedule for tomorrow.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Go and rest for a little while.”
Mia smiles and presses a kiss against Alana’s cheek. “Thank you.” She begins to walk away but suddenly halts in her steps as she turns back to face us.
“Oh, I nearly forgot.” She wanders over to the garment rail, and after a moment of looking through each garment bag, she finally stops at the dress on the far end. She begins to unzip the bag, removing a caramel colored gown from inside. It’s only when she holds it up do I finally see just how stunningly beautiful the dress really is. It’s a strapless gown with a plunging neckline. The bodice is tight-fitting, leaving the rest of the dress to flow flawlessly to the floor. The sheer material has a lace overlay with exquisite gold and caramel beading and sequins adorned into the lace. The beading, with very few sequins, dominates the bodice, but the beading and sequins seamlessly scatter and fade away with the flowing material.
“Wow, it’s beautiful,” I say with an awe-filled whisper. If the bridesmaid dresses are this breathtaking, then the wedding dress must be out of this world.
“This is your dress.”
I look at the dress then back at Mia with my mouth agape in utter shock. “Mine?” I barely mutter.
“Yeah. I got your size from Ashton and from the picture he sent me, I knew you’d look amazing in just about anything.”
“I don’t understand though,” I begin as my eyes admire the delicate beading on the bodice. “You barely know me.”