“Holy shit,” Mackenzie whispered. “My brother is going to lose his mind.”
Berkley looked at her future sister-in-law over her shoulder and winked. “That’s the plan.”
The sweetheart neckline and corset bodice left Berkley’s arms, shoulders, neck, and chest bare. It was covered in lace and beads, with a row of tiny buttons up the back. There was a sash of silk cinching at Berkley’s waist before a full skirt of silk overlaid with tulle fell to her feet.
It was stunning, one hundred percent Berkley, and perfect for an outdoor summer wedding.
“You’re beautiful, Berk,” Amelia said, hopping up from her seat to give Berkley a hug.
“My brother is a lucky man,” Mackenzie said. “I don’t know why you put up with him, honestly.”
“I love him,” Berkley said simply, turning back the mirror and lifting the skirt of her dress so she could twirl and watch it balloon out around her. “I feel like a princess.”
Lexie stood and poured another glass of bubbly, walking over to Berkley and Amelia and handing one to Berkley. Jessica and Mackenzie soon joined them.
“No, Berk,” Lexie said, raising her glass into the air. “You’re aqueen. And I hope Brent treats you as such every day for the rest of your life.”
“To Brent and Berk,” Jessica said, lifting her own glass.
“To Brent and Berk,” they echoed, clinking glasses and giggling.
Berkley drained hers and handed it off to Mackenzie, clapping her hands together as she surveyed the group. “Okay, your turn!”
The girls groaned collectively, but skittered off to their changing rooms to don their dresses one last time before the wedding.
Berkley allowed the girls to each pick their style of dress, as long as they were all in the same color. Amelia, Mackenzie, and Jessica would be wearing navy. And Lexie, as the maid of honor, had the honor of wearing burgundy.
As she shimmied into her dress, which was floor length with a modest slit up the side, held up by two skinny straps with swoops of fabric that fell down her shoulders, she found herself wondering what a Lexie Monroe wedding would even look like.
Somewhere tropical, probably. A destination wedding, where she could keep the invite list small and bury her toes in the sand along some crystal clear body of water while she looked up at the face of the man she loved, was certainly her idea of a good time.
A knock at the door jarred her from her daydream. “Lexie, c’mon. Did you fall asleep in there?”
“No, I’m fine. I’ll be right out.”
She hurriedly zipped up her dress and adjusted the straps, exiting the changing room, the images of her dream wedding still clinging to the edges of her subconscious.
Because standing across from her in front of all their family and friends, exchanging vows and rings and a kiss to seal it all?
Lexie pictured Mitch.
Later that evening, after the dress fittings were done and the girls had driven to Novi and spent several hours wandering Twelve Oaks, Lexie found herself at Brent and Berkley’s, enjoying a glass of wine with Berkley while Brent finished up some administrative work related to FLEX.
“We’re going to head into the city for dinner and drinks with some of the guys,” Berkley told her. “Do you want to join us?”
“Who exactly is ‘some of the guys’?”
“Cole, Jordan and his wife, Naomi, Rat and Grey. You know, the usual.”
“No Mitch?”
“I don’t know if he’s coming,” Berkley said, and Lexie studied her face for any hint of deception, finding none. “He was invited of course, but he hasn’t responded. He might be in Ann Arbor.”
The chances of her running into Mitch tonight seemed small, but truthfully she could use a low key night out with Berkley and the Warriors, and she wasn’t about to let the possibility of seeing him ruin her fun.
“Okay, I’m down,” she said.
“Down for what?” Brent asked as he entered the kitchen and dropped a kiss on the top of Berkley’s head.
