“Here you go, Grandma.”
I’m about to hand her to my mom, but Cooke reaches out and takes her first, saying, “Let me have a cuddle.” I watch as he kisses her pink cheeks and brings her up until she’s snuggled into his neck and shoulder, just like on that magazine cover.
The sight makes me sigh because he’s so damn perfect. Well, perfect for me.
Chapter Two
“This is it,Q. It’stheday,” Patsy says as she wraps me up in her arms. “Who would have thought?”
“Not me.” I laugh as I reach for another one of my dear friends. They’re all here today. All the Beedle Babes, Cooke’s sister Saffron, and Tayler are in attendance because I couldn’t have gotten married without them.
“Are you ready?” asks Kat with a bright smile. My friend is so happy. She and Gage are still going strong. I know it won’t be long until the two of them do this too.
“I am.” More than ready. I want to marry my sweet man and move on to the next phase of our lives. Sadly, or sort of sadly, that phase will be in London, far away from my girls. I can’t think about that right now, though. If I do, I’ll cry, and today is not about tears.
Oh crap.Tears.
“What’s wrong?” Tayler moves in for a hug.
“I’ll miss you guys.” I’m blubbering a little now. In less than a week, we’re moving to London.
“We’ll miss you too,” Susanna says, stepping into our little circle. “But we’ll visit, and you’ll come back. You’re keeping your place here, right?”
I nod and croak out, “Yes.”
“Then stop worrying,” Robbi mutters from somewhere behind me. “This is a happy fucking day.”
Robbi can be a little abrasive at times, but I love her. I laugh. “You’re right.” I wipe away a tear. “You’re absolutely right. Let’s pop open some of that champagne and get ready.”
Cooke arranged for a team of stylists to do our hair and makeup today. I was fine with having one of the girls do something with my hair, but he wouldn’t hear of it. The same goes for my dress.
Ugh. My dress. What a nightmare that was. I looked everywhere for a dress that would fit my post-baby body, but it wasn’t easy. I was shocked at the number of bridal places that didn’t carry plus-sized dresses. Some of the stores said I could order one, but I wouldn’t be able to try anything on. Who would buy a wedding dress without trying it on? Not me.
I finally found one at a place in West Des Moines called Weddings by Design. They had a huge selection of larger dresses that I could actually try, plus they were super nice. I felt very comfortable with my consultant, and she was able to find me the perfect dress. The difficulty was figuring out what size I’d need post-baby, but with their help and a few alterations, we did it.
My dress is fairly traditional. It’s strapless and tight on top, while the bottom is lacy and flows outward, doing a great job of disguising my stomach, thighs, and the rest. I feel pretty in it, and I know Cooke’s going to love it.
“Let’s get this party started,” Robbi shouts.
Poor Robbi.I feel for her. She’s got it bad for Bull, but he’s been in London for the past seven months. Cooke got him a tryout with England rugby. They were so impressed, they added him to the National League 1 team called Roslyn Park located in Roehampton, London. It’s sort of like a minor league team like they have for professional baseball, and he’s having the time of his life playing rugby full time and learning from some great players. Sadly, it means that he’s been away from Robbi all that time. I know he misses her too, but it’s not the same. He’s busy with the team stuff and she’s here. But it’s the way it has to be right now.
I’ve talked Cooke into inviting Robbi to visit us for an extended period of time. That way, she can check out London while seeing if she and Bull can make it work. I plan to talk to her about it at the reception.
I also have a surprise for her besides that. Robbi doesn’t know, but Bull’s going to be here today. Since Cooke asked him to stand up with him, the team is letting him come. I can’t wait to see her face the second she lays eyes on him.
In the meantime, we need to get ready. “Do you all know what you want to do with your hair?” I ask.
The room gets quiet for a moment. Then someone snickers. I think it was Patsy.
“What?”
“We weretoldhow to wear our hair.”
“Told?” I blink a few times. “Groomzilla?”
Titters abound. “Exactly.”
Shaking my head, I say, “Do what you want. I don’t care as long as you like it.”
