“Oh, this is fine. I’m very easygoing.”
Heat crept into my cheeks.
Stephanie grabbed my hands. “I’m glad you went first. Because you’re far better at expressing things than I am. My job is to sell things to people—but I’ve never been good at selling myself.” Her smile held. “But you also saw me. In a way no one ever had before. Well, except my family. You gave me the gift of time and attention. You wanted to know about me. That is more powerful than anything else. You’re such an easy person to love, and I’m so glad no one else before me snatched you up.”
She said the words with particular gusto, and our guests tittered.
I tugged her toward me. Because I wore only one-inch heels, I had to go up on my toes.
She bent her head.
Our lips met.
That kiss meant everything.
Geneva cleared her throat.
We pulled apart.
She grinned. “Well, this is one for the record books—vows exchange before I’ve said a word.” She held her embossed book. “Perhaps I can do my bit.”
Stephanie and I both laughed.
As did pretty much all the guests.
Yeah…we’re going to be okay.
Chapter Four
Stephanie
“You look amazing.” I’d seen Taryn’s costume before, of course, but now, she looked…perfect.
With her moss-green velvet suit, clunky boots, top hat, white face paint, and wonky orange-haired wig, she completely pulled off the look. This was my Taryn…but not.
She beamed. “Anything to get out of that dress.”
“Hey, I like you in smooth satin.”
“I know you do. Hence wearing the champagne-colored dress.” She poofed the orange wig. “But baby, this was always more my speed.”
I laughed. “Which is why I love you. First you wear a dress and heels. Now you’re indulging my Alice fantasy.” I wore a sleeveless pale-blue dress with white heeled boots, and my hair cascaded around my shoulders in soft curls. The ultimate in femininity. My happiest place. I hated that anyone stereotyped lesbians. We came in all different flavors, colors, and shapes.
Taryn extended her arm.
I happily wrapped my hand around it.
She led me through the doors to the main hall.
Cooper and Lachlan had preceded us by a minute—to let everyone know we were coming.
My brother looked magnificent in his red crushed-velvet dress with a boned bodice and gold hearts covering the skirt. He wore fabulous boots, fabulous tights, and a fabulous red wig. The light-white face paint worked perfect with the rest of the outfit.
He grasped Lachlan’s arm.
Poor Lachlan. His navy-blue crushed-velvet suit looked right out of the seventies. His makeup was perfection—including his whiskers. The wig of white hair hung around his face, and his bunny ears were…brilliant.
My heart tugged. He’d done this for me.
