“What’s going on?” I asked as Lou dragged me further into a floral scented room.
Her crutches clacked against the carpeted floor. The door shut behind me, and the blindfold came off.
“Time to pick a dress,” Lou intoned, slipping her arm through mine while Bee came up on my other side. Both of their faces were glammed with dramatic makeup, and their hair was pulled back into elegant low buns.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Racks of designer wedding gowns blocked us in, with a makeshift changing room directly to our right and a small circular platform in front of a full-length trifold dressing mirror to the left.
“Are we ready to say yes to the dress?” A bubbly woman’s head peeked through the racks of gowns, and the garment bagscrinkled. She stepped through from whatever was on the other side of these dresses, wearing plain black slacks and a pastel dress shirt that matched the cheer on her round face.
“She is,” Lou assured with a bob of her head.
I glanced around incredulously. “Tell me this isn’t what I think it is.”
With a mischievous smile, Bee signed, “It is.”
“But he never even proposed.”
“You sure about that?”
“Yeah, I mean he told me that—” That pinched lip smirk on Bee’s face cut me off because the hints had been there. He told me we were getting married today, when I’d been dick obsessed. Technically, he even asked my permission while I was too busy chasing my orgasm to think straight. I groaned, massaging my temples. That was not what I meant when I said I wanted a proposal, but this was Renzo, after all. Big gestures weren’t really his thing. Except…he did plan all this…for me. I grinned. That big oaf. “Looks like I’m officially getting married today.”
Lou whooped. “Hell yes, you are.”
“Drinks?” The bridal consultant held out a tray with two flutes of champagne and a glass of soda. “Then we get started?”
Each of us eagerly took a glass and clinked them together. “To surprise weddings.”
After that, it was a flurry of organza, lace, silk, and satin as I tried on dress after dress. Ball gown, A-line, trumpet, mermaid, or sheath styles, one after the next—itchy or soft, smooth or sequined. It took nine tries before I found the perfect one.
The dress’ lace halter veiled the satin plunge neckline beneath, while its sheath styling followed the curve of my generous hips down to halfway up my thigh, where a side-slit flared the dress out to my new heels. It was a vision of elegance and sexiness, all in one. The girls oohed and aahed, and Lou evenshed a tear behind a wide smile. I just wished my mom had been here to see this moment.
With the bridal gown picked, the racks were moved aside. The girls and bridal consultant rushed me to the awaiting makeup artist and hairstylist on the other side of the room, as if this were a relay race with several stations before the finish line.
The champagne and soda kept flowing, paired with trays of hors d’oeuvres. More dresses were delivered—colored in the same shades I picked with Renzo earlier, and Lou and Bee browsed their choices. By the time my hair was styled and my sultry makeup was done, both Lou and Bee wore their selected gowns.
Beyond the door, a line of people greeted us. The first being a jeweler, with a tanzanite tiara to match the earrings Renzo had selected. I couldn’t help but gasp at how gorgeous it was, the gems gleaming with the fluorescent lighting.
Once it was pinned in my hair, a florist presented us with a bridal bouquet and two smaller matching bouquets in shades of blue, dark purple, and peach. With my nose buried in the blooms, emotion bubbled up inside me, my vision blurring. Renzo had thought of everything.
Lastly came Tore, Vinny, and Natale—each of them pairing up with one of us. As my adopted brother, Tore took my arm and led me through the rest of the terminal to the tarmac, where a red carpet was rolled out to the airstairs of the Iannelli private jet. The wind blew curled strands out of my updo, as I shielded my eyes from the sun’s glare overhead.
Renzo’s shadow stood at the jet plane door, looking like a god about to conquer the world, all dapper in a black tux, his dark hair slicked back. Music serenaded over the rumble of distant engines and the whirring screech of planes racing down runways for takeoff.
This was better than I could have imagined—intimate, unique, and romantic in Renzo’s typical get-it-done style. We walked down the runway, and when we reached the stairs, Tore stayed at the bottom and guided me up.
Renzo held out his hand for me to take. The moment my hand touched his, he lifted me into his arms and kissed me.
“I could not have asked for a more beautiful bride.”
I smiled up at the glint in his eyes. “I thought we agreed to get married after I graduated.”
“If I recall, wife, you made that condition amaybe,” he said, and I lifted a brow unimpressed. “Is there any chance you won’t graduate next year?”
“No.”
He tucked my soft curves against his hard body. “So, see. It doesn’t matter if we wait or not.”
“What about my prize for winning the bet? Do I also get that early?”
