Page 190 of Holiday Heir

EPILOGUE

Lainey

The Following New Year's Eve

"You're going to wrinkle your dress."

I stare at Carla through the mirror. "I can't sit?"

"You can sit after you marry him."

"That's ridiculous," I say but rise.

"Probably." She reaches for my champagne and takes a sip. "But you've got another twenty minutes, and if you wrinkle that dress after I spent the last hour steaming it, I'll kill you."

I laugh. Then my gaze returns to the mirror. And my breath catches all over again.

I'm getting married.

On New Year's Eve!

Exactly two years after I walked into Red Dirt and spotted the cowboy who would change my entire life.

I smooth my hands down my dress. It's nothing like what I thought I'd choose. It lacks a giant ball gown and heavy beading. Instead, soft ivory silk hugs my body before falling into a flowing skirt and a small train. The neckline dips low in front, while the back is almost completely bare except for delicate straps crossing between my shoulder blades. Tiny pearl buttons trail down the back of the skirt.

My red hair falls in loose curls beneath a long veil edged with tiny embroidered wildflowers.

Ruby cried when she saw me.

Mama cried harder.

Daddy walked in, stared at me for approximately three seconds, muttered, "Well, hell," then walked back out all teary-eyed.

"You look disgustingly happy," Carla says.

I meet her eyes in the mirror.

She's gorgeous in a deep-evergreen satin dress that hugs her before falling loosely to the floor. Her dark hair is swept over one shoulder, and she's holding my bouquet of white roses, winter greenery, and tiny sprigs of baby's breath.