“You sure?”
I tugged my hand from his. “You don’t have to flirt with me when no one is around.”
“I didn’t think I was.”
My cheeks burned. “Good night.”
I was aware that he had remained on that step and watched me climb up. When I got to the top, I turned around again.
He was still watching me.
“What’s the appeal?” The question came out of me before I could stop it.
“The appeal of what?”
“The starfish.”
He stared up at me, his intensity burning me in that moment. “The control.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but no words formed. Instead, I had a shocking visual of being tied to a bed while Axel did things to me. Spicy things. Would I like lying there like a starfish? My own question made me blush.
There was something deliberate in the way he held my gaze, unmoving, as if we were both thinking of the same scenario.
I had no words, so I turned and fled.
The afternoon skieswere dark and threatening rain. My bridesmaid and I had our hair and makeup done and were driven together to the church by one of my uncle’s men. I didn’t really know Katrina. She was some distant cousin, but she seemed nice enough and was helpful in finding the room we were supposed to change in.
The room was at the back of the church, and it was freezing cold. Katrina helped button me into my mom’s wedding dress and put on my veil.
“Your makeup looks beautiful,” she said, studying me. “You’re gorgeous.”
I moved to the window. Outside, I could see a lineup of cars slowly moving to the front of the church. “Looks like the guests are arriving.”
“You have ten minutes, and then we will probably be starting.”
I studied my own reflection in the mirror. My dark hair was pulled off my face but it cascaded down my back in curls. I reminded myself of my mom’s wedding photos. I felt torn between nostalgia over wearing my mom’s dress and grief over the fact that my parents were not here with me on my wedding day. And then I felt a measure of guilt because I was using her dress to marry someone I didn’t love. But this might be my one and only wedding. And selfishly, I really wanted professional photos of myself as a bride, wearing my mom’s dress. For the first time in a long time, I felt close to her.
The lineup of cars had ended, which meant that the guests had all arrived and were waiting.
Katrina slipped back into the room, this time with a bottle of vodka and a shot glass.
“What’s going on?”
“There’s been a slight delay,” she said in a cheerful voice. “So I thought this might warm us up.”
She poured a shot, but when I reached for it, she pulled it away. “No baby coming, right?”
“What?” I didn’t understand.
“You can’t drink if you’re pregnant.”
“I’m not,” I exclaimed.
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Really?”
“What’s going on out there?”
She handed me the shot. “Drink first.”
