“Come on. You know me. I don’t believe in fairytales, Alba. I was never even planning on getting married. But if I’m forced to, it might as well be worth my while.”
“Fair enough. You don’t have to believe in serendipity and twin flames and cosmic connections. But you should believe that you are worthy of love, Jules. You should believe that there are good people out there. Ones that will fall helplessly in love with you.” She squeezes my shoulder. “You deserve a lifetime of happiness. Even if a big, ballgown wedding dress and an extravagant ceremony aren’t your style.”
A tear slips down my cheek. I try to distract myself from the emotions unburied by my best friend’s kind words.
I sniffle, laying my cheek against the top of her head. “Can I use that on a T-shirt?”
She pulls back to glare at me. “Look, bitch. You’re going to have to pay me royalties.”
“Sounds fair.” I crack a smile. “But in all seriousness, thank you for saying that stuff. I may not be on board with all of it, but you’re right about the dress. Who cares what I wear? It’smyfake wedding. Not theirs.”
“Right on, girl!” Alba hops up, yanking me to my feet.
With my bestie’s help, I go back out into the shop. I’m relieved to find that my sister is long gone. In a reasonable amount of time, I pick out a wedding dress that’s more…me. It’s simple. Sleek. Off-white. Zero pouf.
“What do you think?” Alexia asks me, as everyone gathers to watch me twirl in the mirror.
A smile breaks out across my face as I observe my reflection. “I like it so much.”
I’m almost excited about wearing it next week.
22
LINCOLN
“Just a few more boxes,” I say to Rocco as I pass him, hauling another load down the path from Jules’s front door to the rented truck.
Easton and Oliver are busy today. But Rocco has a few hours to spare before he leaves town. Thankfully, he’s helping me move Jules’s stuff into my house before it’s time to pick up Cameron from school. Clearly, I underestimated how much stuff my future wife had crammed inside that tiny bedroom.
Books and leather jackets and biker boots.
So many biker boots.
As I try to fit a crumbling box of workout gear into the vehicle, I’m realizing that I should have rented a bigger truck.
Jules hasn’t said much to me all day. She and I have barely exchanged a few words. I think we’re both really nervous about living together under the same roof.
Even still, I’ll admit that a part of me is so damn excited about having her around every day. I’d never say it out loud, though.
My soon-to-be wife makes me feel alive in ways I haven’t felt in a really long time. But yet another part of me is acutely awareof all the ways this whole thing might blow up in my face. Jules and I are so different. And throw an eight-year-old kid into the mix? This might very well end in disaster.
I’m lost in my head as I trudge back inside the house for another box. I turn down the hallway and Jules bumps straight into my chest. I catch her, both of my hands gripping her waist and ignoring how good her body feels against mine. We both mumble our apologies.
“Sorry.”
“Oops. My bad.”
But when she looks up at me with those soft brown eyes, I can’t help but hold onto her waist a little longer.
“You okay?” I ask her in a private voice that’s just for the two of us.
She nods and smiles unconvincingly. “Yeah. Great. Just a little preoccupied.”
I can feel Laney discreetly peeking at us from the kitchen where she’s pulling a load of Jules’s fresh laundry out of the dryer and stuffing them into garbage bags. Rocco is much more obvious, abandoning the bookshelf he’s in the middle of disassembling in the living room so he can stare right at us.
Sensing an opportunity, I brush Jules’s dark hair away from her eyes and plant a kiss on her forehead. “Can’t wait for you to move in with Cameron and me…” I say more loudly.
Supposedly, it’s all for show. I’m pretending to be the perfect fiancé. But deep down, the words I’m saying are sort of true. I’m really looking forward to sharing my home with her.
