It was just wedding nerves.
After going to the florist, Becks and Libby went out to lunch. Libby raised an eyebrow at Becks’ choice of a green goddess salad instead of a sandwich, but said nothing. Her bestie was such a smart woman. Becks chose the salad because she wasn’t overly hungry after that large breakfast that had been practically shoved in her face, and for no other reason. And she ate salads so much because shelikedthem, not because she was on some fad diet. She genuinely liked salads, and she resented the fact that society made her feel guilty about that.
Like her mother, Becks lacked height but thankfully she hit the five-foot marker in middle school and kept going a little bit. Unlike Liam who had to duck under certain door frames, Becks had to do running jumps to get into certain vehicles. Hell,there’d been a hotel in France where a trampoline would have been helpful to give her that extraumphonto the mattress.
Also heels. Beckslovedher heels, and not just because they made her several inches taller. She loved how they made her legs and back feel, not to mention her boobs. It was rare for Becks to have pumps lower than four inches, and she’d recently become obsessed with gradient colors. Her bridal shoes that she’d been wearing for most of the week to help break them in were also platforms, offering her over five inches. Some might find it hard to believe, but Becks felt steadier on heels than she did on flat feet.
Libby might be a runner and had endurance that Becks lacked, but she’d broken her ankle when she was twelve, making it extremely painful for her to wear heels as Becks did. Libby was also five-seven, and didn’t need the height assist.
Libby and Becks were getting the flowers situated in the garage fridge when she heard her mom’s voice come from behind them. “Oh, good, you’re here!”
Becks turned to see her mom holding up a white garment bag over her head so it didn’t drag on the ground so much. Becks’ heart started to race. Her dress! She beamed so wide that her cheeks hurt.
Then she recalled the conversation she’d had with Ritchie last week, and her smile fell slightly. She got that this wasn’t justherwedding, but still… It washerbody. Becks wasn’t overly religious, though she did believe in something. Her choice to get married in a church had more to do with wanting to get married where her mom and dad had gotten married than religion. And maybe it was silly, but it was also where her dad was buried, and having her wedding there made her feel closer to him.
Liam was going to be walking her down the aisle in their dad’s stead, and she’d had the florist put a picture of him in his police uniform in her bouquet.
Becks wasn’t conservative, and it pissed her off that because Ritchie’s bosses were, and that they were going to be in attendance at the wedding, that he’d asked her to cover more of her body.
Knowing what was going through her head, Libby put her hand on Becks’ shoulder. “It’s just for the ceremony. If they have an issue with it at the reception, then I’ll make such a drunken stinkno onewill be talking about how inappropriate your dress is.”
Becks laughed. God, she loved Libby. For the past couple of years, Becks felt so discombobulated from life. Her job was pulling her all around the world; her boyfriend lived in a different city and state than she did, even though it was only a less-than-three-hour drive in either direction; and her best friend since middle school now lived in a different time zone. But now she was moving to the same city and state as her boyfriend—husband—and she wouldn’t be traveling so much for work. Things would be great. It was going to be fine. Maybe in a few years she could convince her mom to move to the city too, or Liam could bring her up by him.
Her life would be better after the wedding.
Hugging her bestie around the waist, Becks hurried over to the two wooden stairs that led up to the house where her mom stood on the landing.
“Want to try it on?”
Feeling as excited as a princess on aDisneycruise, Becks nodded. “Hell yeah!”
The soft,smooth fabric was slick against her skin. Becks stood alone in her bedroom before the tall mirror on her closet door.She didn’t have her hair up or the veil in. That was still in the garment bag on her bed, along with the mock neck cape that she would be wearing on Saturday. She’d tried ona lotof dresses since Ritchie proposed last year. There were several she liked, but she loved this one.
The soft white complimented her tanned skin, unlike the stark white version she’d tried on first that seemed to glow on her. The illusion lace halter top gave her breasts the support they needed while also lending the sexy look of a tube dress. With her heels, the train swept behind her rather than pooling at her feet. And the A-frame skirt gave her the princess feel without the poofy look of an actual princess-cut dress.
It washerdress, accentuating her figure rather than concealing her as many plus-size dresses had done. She’d loved it from the moment she saw it on the rack at the bridal store, and the fact that she had to cover it up as she said her vows left a sour taste in her mouth.
A low, approving whistle came from behind her. Looking up, she saw her brother in her open doorway. Behind him, she caught sight of a ginger head walking past.
In a not-creepy, completely objectively, sisterly way, she could understand why women thought her brother was hot. He was tall, muscular, and had unique features like his ice-blue eyes and white-blonde hair. Becks had started dying her hair in high school because she got tired of people accusing her of bleaching her hair. No, her hair wasn’t bleached, nor was she albino. She just had really light blonde hair. Besides, she liked being a brunette because it meant she matched her mom and dad instead of her asshole sperm donor. Her mom’s hair was definitely a darker blonde, and nowhere near the shade Liam’s and Beck’s hair had turned out.
“You look incredible,” Liam told her, leaning against the door frame.
Becks smiled at him, blinking rapidly so she didn’t start crying again. “I wish Dad was here.” Losing her dad in her senior year of high school had been hell, and she’d been feeling his absence all the harder the past six months. “He should be here.”
Liam stepped into the room. He was wearing jeans, boots, and a tight top, looking every inch the badass, ex-Army Ranger he was. Towering over her even though she was in heels, Ranger came up behind her and placed a kiss on the top of her head. “He’s here,” he told her reflection softly in the mirror. “And he’s as proud of you as I am.”
Warmth filled her, despite their shared sorrow. “Thank you. Are you on your way to or from getting the tuxes?”
“We just got back. Mom and Libby are organizing them downstairs. Ghost and I are going to go for a run since we didn’t this morning after you threatened Ghost’s descendants.”
Flushing at the memory she’d been trying all day to forget, Becks elbowed her brother in the ribs—only to immediately regret the decision when her elbow protested and he barely moved. There was a good chance she’d just bruised herself. “Stop it! You know I didn’t mean it! And will you please tell him that? I don’t want him to be mad at me.”
Liam laughed and ruffled her hair, even though she hated it when he did that. She wasn’t fucking four years old! “He’s not mad, sis. Though, he might murder me when he finds out I texted the club to tell them how easily my baby sister took down our illustrious leader.”
A growl from the doorway had both siblings turning to see Ghost standing in the frame. He wore running shoes and jogging shorts…and nothing else. Her breath hitched as a different warmth flowed through her body, commencing at her core and radiating out like a sunburst. Holy fuck! The silkiness of her bra rubbed against her hardening nipples, and a groan nearly escaped. Was this man fucking allergic to shirts or something?
Liam didn’t appear deterred, despite how pissed off Ghost looked at his words. Becks didn’t fully understand the motorcycle club lifestyle. She supposed she got the need for brotherhood after Liam left the military, but a motorcycle club? He swore they weren’t outlaws and she knew he had a valid job managing a bar… She just didn’t get it. And if he did have to be in a motorcycle club, couldn’t it be one that was closer to where their widowed mother lived?
