Chloe belts out a laugh.Oh hell, Mess. Go ahead and slap her a few times if you want. I don’t really give a shit.
I might just take Chloe up on that offer.
I snatch the dress back and land it on a rack closer to me as I continue to inspect it, falling in love with this thing of beauty ever so much more with each passing second.
Lexy snorts. “Liam will propose one day, and I thought this would be the perfect wedding dress.”
I grunt in lieu of response. “You’re right about the perfect wedding dress. But it’s not for you.”
Lexy scoffs. “And you think it’s foryou?”
“It’s for Messenger.”
“What?” both Lexy and Michelle bark in unison.
“No way.” Lex holds a hand out as if to stop me. “I’ve seen her wedding mess of a dress. She’s got no taste, and I really don’t care. She’s not getting near this masterpiece.”
Michelle squints over at me. “Why in the hell do you care what she wears?”
Yeah, Mess?Chloe laughs.Boy, you really know how to get yourself into a pickle.
I think on it for a moment. “She asked me to pick up a spare. So relax, Lex. She may not even wear it. She’s worried those brats of hers will spill something fruity on her gown before kickoff. And you know how anal she is—she insisted on a backup at the very last minute. Bree and Laken said they couldn’t do it in time, Laken has an entire herd of brats of her own—mine included, and, well, Bree probably has to suck Drake’s dick or something equally irrelevant.”
Bravo, Bravo, Messenger.Chloe cheers.Dare I say you’re falling in love with the freedom of being me? Ten bucks says you’ll hesitate to leave when given the chance.
I give a hard blink.You wish.
Lex shakes her head and plucks out a hot pink number. “Bring this. Mess is essentially an emotional three-year-old. She’ll probably ditch her proper gown and wear this bubblegum disaster instead.”
“You’re probably right,” I muse. And I’m talking about Rory. I glare over at Lex a moment for the slight she just inadvertently dispensed my way. “And in keeping with your line of thinking, she won’t want to wear this one.” I point to the thing of beauty. “I’ll have it back at the shop the next day untouched, and you can wear it wherever the hell you want.”
“No,” Lexy wails. “Liam might see it. Hell, everyone might see it and they’ll think I’m wearing one of Skyla’s castoffs. It’s bad enough I couldn’t have Logan. She’s not getting my dress.”
“She’s getting the dress.” I bare my fangs. “And yes, Lex, she gets Logan, too. Logan is her soulmate. You knew that back in high school, and that never stopped you from pursuing him.”
Her mouth falls open, and her copper hair swings around the base of her neck like a sickle.
“Are you even listening to yourself?” Her chest bucks as she glances back at Michelle. “How hard should I kick her ass?” She reverts her anger back to me. “What about your little obsession with her husband?GageOliver? Face it, Chloe. Skyla came into town and stole both of our men. And neither of them bothered to look at us ever again. And when you finally cast a spell on Gage and he married you”—she saysmarriedin air quotes—“he still rejected you. It was Skyla his body was crying out for. No matter how wide you spread your legs, you couldn’t get him to fall into that bear trap of yours. And if there’s one thing Chloe Bishop can’t stand, it’s being number two to anyone. And yet you’ve been less than zero since Skyla came to Paragon.”
My right hand whips through the air and wallops Lexy over the face so hard I felt a pop in her jaw as she sails into a sea of fluffy tulle.
“Oh my God, Lexy!” I cry out as I try to help her up and Michelle gives me a hard shove to the chest.
“Just get out of here, Bishop,” Michelle growls. “You were both going too far. It always ends this way. It’s like the two of you will never learn.”
Always?
Always,Chloe admits.
I snatch the dress off the rack and bolt for the door. I drive it straight to Whitehorse, but I don’t put that dress into the downstairs den that is slowly being transformed into a bridal suite. I carry it upstairs and bury it in the back of the master closet behind Logan’s suits and winter coats. I can’t risk Rory falling in love with my wedding dress. No, she needs to breathe her last in the catastrophe she’s chosen for herself.
Logan’s flannel catches my eye, and I pull it to my face and take a deep breath.
Logan. My Logan.
I’m going to make everything right for us, even if I have to die to do it.
The Matador, the Mexican restaurant where the rehearsal dinner is being held, looks like a time capsule of my love story with Logan. They may have changed the name, but inside it’s virtually the same with the colorful paper doilies strung across the upper walls, the dark wood floors, and the cheery music blaring through the speakers. The scent of freshly grilled fajitas enlivens my senses, and just as I’m about to stretch a smile across Chloe Bishop’s face, I spot the back room brimming with bodies of all my friends and family, with my children, Logan, and well, me—and suddenly I can’t seem to find a single thing to smile about.
