Breaking the Rules (48 page)

“Except, you know what, Eden? I really don’t think anyone’s going to see my legs,” Jenn pointed out, just at the very moment that she looked in the mirror and realized that there was a huge slit up the front of the dress that completely exposed her left leg, from the very top of her thigh all the way to her foot. “Okay, so I’m wrong about
that
. Wow. I definitely need some help with the zipper.”

She pushed open the curtain as she held the dress up to her chest.

Eden was there instantly, pulling up the fastener. “Deep breath,” she said. “And don’t worry, you won’t be holding it in the entire time. There’s stretch in this thing. You can exhale … now.”

“Yikes,” Jenn said as she looked at herself in the mirror. The bra gave her cleavage unlike any she’d ever had before, and the shaping of the bodice gave her an hourglass figure, while the skirt hid her too-generous hips and …

As large as she was, she
did
have rather nice, very shapely legs. Even
she
had to acknowledge that.

Eden set a pair of shoes in front of her—slip-ons with the tiniest nub of a heel—that were covered with sparkling rhinestones. Jenn wouldn’t want to take a hike in them, but they were definitely perfect for this dress.

Still, she wasn’t quite sure … “Isn’t a wedding gown supposed to be demure?” Jenn asked. “I mean, that’s the point of wearing virginal white, isn’t it?”

“Are you a virgin?” Eden asked, and she didn’t wait for Jenn to respond, instead answering for her. “No. Is this Las Vegas? Why, yes, it is. Trust me, this dress is demure for Vegas. I mean, you
could
go with something in red …”

Jenn laughed as she turned back to the mirror to look at herself again. “I’m pretty sure Dan wanted me wearing white.”

“You look amazing,” Eden told her. “And the rental’s for the entire night. You can leave in it, you know, go dancing or … whatever. Just bring it back tomorrow before three. Izzy and I didn’t get a chance to do that—we went right to San Diego after we got married. But you will. And you should. Danny’s gonna want to … Well, wedding night.

Right?”

The door opened and Eden turned, ready to pull the curtain closed—in case it was Danny. Which was sort of stupid. Not only were superstitions like that one—the groom shouldn’t see the bride’s dress before the wedding—ridiculous, they didn’t really apply to people who married in order to gain custody of a teenager.

But it wasn’t Dan, it was Mrs. Fudd, the woman who helped the strange little man with the faux-British accent who ran the place. The accent was particularly odd because he
did
look quite a bit like Elmer Fudd come to life.

“Finding everything?” Mrs. Fudd asked brightly. She was wearing the most amazing beehive wig, as if they’d caught her on the way to an audition for a B-52s tribute band. Still, she seemed to love her job.

“We’re doing great,” Eden reported.

“You
are,
” the woman enthused as she peeked in at Jenn. “Oh! That’s such a beautiful dress, dear. You make quite the striking figure.” She turned to Eden. “What about you?”

Eden had put three blue dresses on a separate rack outside a second dressing room, and as the woman looked at them, she said, “Oh, no, dear, those are mother-of-the-bride dresses. You’ll want something younger.”

She immediately bustled toward the section of the room that held the bridesmaid dresses.

“No, no,” Eden called after her. “You don’t have to … See, I wanted something with a little jacket, just like these. I’m … a little chilly?”

She was totally lying, and Jennilyn knew exactly why. Eden—who
shared Dan’s genes and was gleamingly gorgeous—didn’t want to risk outshining the bride.

But Eden turned to Jenn to say, “I hope you don’t mind. I wanted something that covered me a little bit more. I’m tired of feeling overexposed.”

Jenn smiled back at her. “Are you sure you don’t want to wear something that’ll give
Izzy
a heart attack?”

“Yeah, thanks, but no,” Eden said, rolling her eyes. She was trying to be upbeat and light, but Jenn didn’t miss the unhappiness in her eyes as her smile became forced. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I already almost gave him a real one tonight and … He’s still not exactly talking to me.”

“You
do
know that you could’ve been killed,” Jenn pointed out.

“A person could be killed just walking down the street.” Eden took the dresses she’d picked out into other changing room and pulled the curtain.

“But you weren’t exactly walking down the street,” Jenn reminded her. “You took a real risk—for someone you barely know.”

“Yeah, well,” Eden said from behind the curtain, “you should talk—doing what you’re doing for Ben.”

“I’m doing it for Danny, too,” Jenn pointed out.

“And I did what
I
did for Ben,” Eden told her. “And for me. And you. For the little girls we once were. And all the other little girls who need help escaping from dangers they didn’t ask for, in their crappy lives.”

She pulled open the curtain to reveal a dress that, yes, did make her look a little older, with its lace jacket and high-necked top. Still, it fit her nicely.

“I’ll wear this one,” Eden said, “if it’s okay with you.”

Jenn nodded. “You look very elegant. I approve.”

Mrs. Fudd was on her way back, holding out two different dresses, both of which looked like something Cher would’ve worn to the Oscars in 1985.

“We’ve decided on this one, thanks,” Jenn cut her off before she could speak. “I think we’re ready to move on to hair and makeup.”

Mrs. Fudd didn’t argue, she just put the dresses onto another rack and graciously led the way. “You both have shoes?” she asked.

“We do,” Eden answered as she grabbed her bag, too. “Jenn, pretend you’re not listening, okay? Or plug your ears.” She turned to Mrs. Fudd. “I’d like to pay for this—all of it—but my brother Danny, he’s the groom? I know he’d never let me. So I’m wondering if I can’t pay for most of it anyway, and have you charge him for only the very cheapest basic wedding, and I don’t know, maybe tell him you’re giving him some kind of special military hero upgrade? He’s a Navy SEAL and he was just wounded in Afghanistan, and he’s trying to get custody of our little brother, so he doesn’t have a lot of money to spend, but …”

Mrs. Fudd had stopped, there in the hall that led to the room with the makeup mirrors. She looked from Eden to Jenn and smiled. “Do you want to tell her, dear, or should I?” she asked Jenni.

“I pulled her aside and asked to do essentially the same thing,” Jenn confessed to Eden, “while you were in the shower. I know Dan’s stressing about money, so …”

Eden laughed. “Great minds think alike.”

“They do,” Jenn said, hugging the younger woman. “I’m going to love having you as a sister.”

Eden hugged her back, hard. “Me, too. And Lord, I’m so sorry for—”

“Shh,” Jenn told her, pulling back to look into Eden’s eyes. “No worries, no regrets. This is what it is. We’re going to make the best of it.”

“You’re not the only ones who think alike,” Mrs. Fudd told them, taking a tissue from her sleeve and dabbing at her eyes. “Both Irving and young Ben came in a few minutes ago, requesting to pay for the ceremony as a wedding gift to the bride and groom. My husband, Alistair, let them do just that—plus he gave them our deepest military discount.” She turned to Eden. “I’ll let you sort it out with the two of them, so you can be part of the gift giving, too.” Then back to Jenn, with a tremulous smile: “But not you—you’re the bride. You know, it’s
a very good omen, dear—when you start your life together surrounded by such wonderful family and friends. Now, come along! Let’s do your hair and makeup. We’re going to make you both look marvelous!”

Izzy had a very definite sense of déjà vu when the music started and the doors at the back of the chapel opened but then immediately shut again.

All the rows of folding chairs, separated by a central aisle with a red carpet runner, were empty—as they had been when he and Eden got married.

But then, unlike now, he’d stood alone at the altar, waiting for her to “process” down the aisle. Back then, they’d invited both Eden’s mother and Ben, but Ivette had been securely under Greg’s thumb, and neither had showed.

Although if Izzy had known as much about Ben then as he did now, he would have insisted on driving over to the kid’s house and helping to arrange a little E&E for him—escaping out his bedroom window, and then evading Greg for the hour that Izzy and Eden had gotten wed.

Of course, that was back before Greg had boarded up both windows.

But right now the kid was standing next to Izzy, between him and Dan, as they all exchanged a look, like,
I thought Eden and Jenn were coming in
.

But then, okay, there it was, the doors opened again, and this time Mrs. Fudd, with her rockin’ 1960s hairdo, made sure they stayed open all the way and even stuck little jams into them with her pointy-toed shoes. She nodded and smiled at Mr. Fudd, who was standing in front of them, ready to officiate—if and when the bride ever made it into the room.

But then there they were. Eden and Jennilyn, both holding bouquets of silk flowers. Walking down that aisle together, arm in arm.

Beside him, Ben said, “Whoa,” and Danny drew in a deep, sharp breath.

Because,
damn
, Skippy. If Handel’s
Water Music
hadn’t been playing, Izzy would’ve been tempted to sing a chorus or two of that old ZZ Top song.
She’s got legs, she knows how to use them …

Jennilyn LeMay had transformed into a bona fide, resplendent goddess. She dazzled in that dress, and if Izzy had had any remaining doubt whatsoever as to what Dan saw in her, it was gone.

Not that he was on the verge of hip-checking Danny to the side and trying to marry the woman himself. No, his appreciation was just that—admiration for a beautiful woman, with a capital
W-O-M-A-N
.

Besides, Eden was walking beside her. And Eden was Eden—she’d look gorgeous in a gunnysack. But in the dress
she
was wearing, with her hair up off her shoulders and her makeup artfully applied, she looked sophisticated and elegant.

Not at all like a crazy person who’d leap into a car and play demolition derby with a pair of truck-stealing, homicidal gunmen.

She looked back at him somberly, as if she, too, didn’t quite recognize
him
dressed up the way he was. And the smile she gave him was small and rather sad, as if she knew what he was thinking—that he no longer had any reason to hang around.

Dan and Jenn were going to gain custody of Ben. Izzy had absolutely no doubt about that. One conversation with Jenn, and the social workers were going to start begging her to take them in, too.

Which meant Eden was free to go live her life.

And
that
meant Izzy should probably go and schedule that appointment with that divorce lawyer, the sooner, the better. Because the longer he stuck around, the more likely he was to run into circumstances like this evening, where Eden did whatever the hell she wanted while he was forced to watch with his heart in his throat.

It would be a totally different story, if he could truly make himself
not care, if he could just say
whatever
to everything but the freaking great sex.

But he did care. He cared too much.

And unless he got out, ASAP, he was going to get crushed like a bug.

The sound of Danny’s uneven breathing brought Izzy out of his private misery and back to the moment: music playing, women still marching down that interminably long aisle.

His lame-ass brother-in-law was having trouble keeping his air going in and out steadily. Danny-Danny-bo-banny sounded like he’d just run a 5K, or as if he’d just taken the stairs up, at a run, fifty flights. He was clearly as nervous as shit and it was entirely possible he was going to fall over. Just,
bam!
Hit the floor. Izzy had experienced a similar loss of blood to his brain when he’d been on the receiving end of a gorgeous processing bride.

Ben was oblivious, just standing between them in his rented tux, grinning his ass off, so Izzy nudged the kid and leaned close to whisper, “Be ready for your brother to faint.”

“I heard that,” Dan whispered back, his eyes never leaving Jenn. “And I’m fine. I’m not going to fucking
faint.
” But then he exhaled hard—pushing everything from his lungs, in a rush.

And
that
was not a good way to breathe if you didn’t want to faint. “Just be ready,” Izzy whispered to Ben, who was now wide-eyed.

“Zanella,” Dan whispered back, “I would really appreciate it if you would please keep your … thoughts to yourself for the duration of this ceremony. It’s kind of important to me.”

Well, wasn’t
that
a civilized request? “Absolutely, bro,” Izzy told him.

“Starting right now,” Dan said, adding, “Please.”

Two
pleases
from the fishboy, within four-point-five seconds. That had to be some kind of relationship record for them.

Done and done. Izzy didn’t say it aloud. He kept it to himself, as requested.

It was then that Eden and Jenn made it up to the altar, where—thank you, baby jeebus—now Jenn could hold on to Dan and keep him from falling on his face.

Before Mr. Fudd began to speak, Izzy took the opportunity to cross over and stand next to Eden.

His wife.

For now.

But probably not much longer.

For richer or poorer, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, as long as we both shall reside in the same apartment in order to take care of your brother Ben …

Yeah, definitely not much longer.

With this ring, I dub thee obsolete
.

E
den went into big-sister mode as soon as they walked into the apartment.

“Test your blood sugar,” she commanded Ben as she bustled into the bedroom to change the sheets on her bed.