“Hope your hubby likes puzzles! Brady will have a crazy time getting them out.” Elle laughs again.
“What good’s a wedding without a little suspense?” Gran snickers knowingly. “It’s a joy to keep a man waiting every now and again.”
My face heats.
I smooth my hand down my dress. Wildly extravagant isn’t my style, no, and this is the most basic sleek white gown Kerrigan Pruitt would let me get away with on her designer budget.
Basic or not, I still feel like a princess. I mean, as long as I don’t think about the price tag.
... I’m really not going to get used to being rich.
Spending five outrageous figures on a wedding dress feels obscene. Doesn’t matter if it’s pocket change for a billionaire family.
I could have bought a nice new car instead.
But I also know the usual rules don’t apply in this world, and this is Kerrigan and Alec’s apology note. Their acceptance and a welcome gift, bringing me into the family.
Every time I get a nice long look at this getup, I remember why I can’t complain.
“There!” Gran announces triumphantly, patting my hair and stepping back.
I touch the braids gently as I gaze at myself in the mirror.
Yep, the soft curls around my face will probably blow everywhere, but I have to admit the braids wrapped around my head feel like they’re built to withstand a tropical storm.
“You can even sleep on it—but don’t,” she says with a heavy tone that suggests she thinks that’s a distinct possibility.
I can’t muster the courage to deny it.
Really, there’s only one thing happening the second this dress comes off, and itwillobliterate my pretty hair.
Nothing about our arrangement is traditional, but Brady agreed we’d abstain for an entire month to make our honeymoon more explosive than ever.
I mean, not abstain fromeverything. We don’t have the willpower for that.
Things got creative, let’s say.
Just not enough to satisfy the itch that can only be scratched by having him inside me.
I now know true suffering.
I’m so horny we might just leave the pins in and put Gran’s handiwork to the wildest test.
I rub my warm skin, almost wishing this dress had sleeves.
It’s off the shoulder and elegant, everything I could ever wish for in a wedding dress, but we’re basically almost in Canada, and it isn’t close to summer yet.
“Nervous?” Elle appears by my side.
“Excited. Just as long as nobody else knows we’re here.”
It wouldn’t be impossible, especially because we’re on a very short list of people who can afford to take a yacht this size out of Anacortes. Every gossipy mouth in Seattle and beyond would kill for an exclusive shoot of the Pruitts’ big day, even if they have to follow us on a whale-watching ship with high-powered cameras.
“Oh, hush. No one knows the date. I burned the wedding invitation,” Elle reminds me.
I snicker, because I know she really went that far.
“It’s the honeymoon you’ll have to worry about. Or just buck up and smile for the cameras. No creepers today, though,” she assures me. “This is your big day, and Brady’s. Enjoy it.”
