Ready to Wed (24 page)

I knew being in a wedding was a bad idea.
Obviously I needed to stay
behind
the scenes from now on. No more walking down the aisle or standing up front. If only I’d known that before I’d squeezed myself into the dress.

I sent a few frantic texts to Jillian and the rest of my team. Jillian assured me everything was running smoothly in the tents, and that I had a few minutes until everyone started missing me. I was just about to head to the bridal room when Brendan called my name.

“Hey,” he said as he moved closer. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m having a dress emergency, and I need to get back out there.” I spun to show him my current I’m-up-to-my-eyeballs situation. I waited for him to gasp or freak out, but then I realized he was a guy. What I didn’t expect was for him to reach his hand into the gap and run his fingers across my bare skin. My pulse quickened and my mouth went dry.

“I don’t see the problem,” Brendan said, and his fingers dipped lower.

I glanced over my shoulder at him, my skin humming from his touch. The half smile on his face made it even harder to focus on the task at hand. “It might be convenient for
you
, but I’d rather not show the rest of the wedding party quite so much skin.”

“What do you need?”

I thought of what I’d do if another bridesmaid were sporting the ripped-open dress. I had a ton of safety pins, but I didn’t think Valentina was going for the Goth look. But stitching it all would take too long—longer than I had. I’d just change back into the dress I brought for the wedding, but I worried Valentina would want more pictures, and I’d survived this long being a temporary bridesmaid. Which left one quick fix that might work. “I’m going to have to superglue myself into the dress—actually, you need to superglue me in. You think you can do that?”

“Sure.” Brendan followed me to get my wedding kit and I handed over the superglue. Within a few minutes I was glued inside the dress—pretty sure some of the fabric was glued to my skin, too, but I’d worry about that later.

My phone suddenly erupted with texts—Valentina was looking for me, waiting because she needed me at the table so they could start the food.

“Thanks, babe,” I said to Brendan, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Just keep that in mind for me, will you?”

Something about the way he said it made me pause and study him. “And why would I need to do that?”

“You’ll see,” he said, mischief flickering in his eyes. “Now go.” He smacked me on the butt. “I’ll catch up with you when it’s all said and done.”

Oh sure, like I could just go and not obsess about his cryptic words. But since I really couldn’t spare any more time away from the reception, I charged out of the room, praying there’d be no more malfunctions.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Fireworks lit the sky over the small lake on the grounds, their colorful bursts bright against the dark sky and reflecting on the water. A beautiful end to a beautiful reception. All the guests were turned toward the show, their smiling faces tipped up. The stress of the event leaked out of me with a long exhale, but despite being exhausted, a sense of accomplishment lifted me.

I did it. Pulled off an extravagant wedding, despite being a last-minute bridesmaid who’s glued into her dress.

There’d even been a moment when the older Mrs. Maddox got mad at the photographer for bossing her around. She’d whacked him with her purse and everything.

Ah, grandmas, the ticking time bombs of weddings.
But now she was happy, eating her cake and watching the show, too, her son next to her—it was nice to see such a big man so wrapped up in keeping his mother, wife, and daughter happy. Not always an easy combination, especially when a wedding was involved.

Footsteps caught my attention. A glance over my shoulder told me it was Brendan. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling my back to his chest, and rested his chin on my shoulder.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” I asked.

Brendan pressed his lips against my neck and muttered, “Mm-hmm,” the vibration of his deep voice against my skin sending a spike of heat through me. For a few moments, we watched the fireworks, and all seemed right in the world.

Then Brendan whispered my name, his breath against my ear sending a pleasant shiver down my spine. He ran his hands down my sides, gripped my hips, and turned me to face him. His eyebrows were drawn low and his mouth was set in a determined line.

He rubbed his fingers across his brow and then blew out a shaky breath. “I didn’t expect to be so nervous.” He glanced at the fireworks now exploding faster and faster, on their way to the big finale. “I’m glad I waited till right now, though.”

Nervous?
His nerves must be transferring to me, because my stomach was currently twisting itself into a tight ball.

Brendan cleared his throat. “When I first came to Vegas, I thought it’d be fun to see you again. I didn’t expect you to be so beautiful, or to have as much fun as I did with you. I thought living with you would be an adventure…” He dragged a knuckle down my jawline, and all I could do was blink, blink, blink, trying to piece together where he was going with this. “I didn’t expect to fall in love with you so fast.

“Dakota Jane Halifax”—Brendan dropped to a knee and held out his hand, revealing a roll of Life Savers—“I figured I’d let you pick the color and size it yourself this time.”

My heart beat like it meant to leap out of my chest. Tears sprang to my eyes. “Are you saying…?”

Brendan took my hand. “Will you marry me?”

A lump lodged in my throat. I thought about what it’d be like to be Brendan West’s wife, and how I wanted that more than anything. But then I thought about standing in a wedding dress, waiting for him to come…

And waiting.

And waiting.

Panic crept in, squeezing and digging up all my insecurities. I scratched at my chest, trying to get it to stop.

Brendan ran his thumb over my knuckles. “Do I need to remind you that this is really just a formality? You already said yes when you were nine, and I’m totally holding you to it.” The teasing smile curving his lips faded. “D.J.?”

I tugged on the neckline of my dress, finding words impossible to get out for a couple of seconds. “I love you, and I want to, I do, but… After what happened last time, I don’t know if I can.”

I’d dealt with my anger and feeling out of control, but this was different. Everything inside me now tied standing in a wedding dress to crushing pain. “I guess if we maybe do one of those drive-through chapels. That way there’s no escape and I’m not worried about you standing me up. Or like the courthouse, even.” I pressed my lips together and gave a sharp nod. “Yeah, I could do that.”

“Drive-through wedding? Courthouse? You don’t really want that.” His grip on my hand tightened. “Just like you never wanted to get married as part of a cruise. I know, because I know you. You want the big wedding, and you’re getting it. And I’m not going to stand you up. I don’t need time. I’m surer about this than anything I’ve ever been in my life. Marry me, D.J. Just say yes.”

I stared at him, taking in his dirty-blond hair, his dark eyes, the slope of his nose, and the twist of his lips. I’d never loved anything so much in my life. Tears filled my eyes, blurring the world around us. I glanced from the Life Savers in my hand back to him. I wrapped my hand around the roll of candy and nodded. “Yes.”

A slow smile spread across his face, and then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a glittering ring that was definitely not made of candy.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Get Ready to Wed
by Dakota Halifax

A Little Advice for the Fellas

Today I’m breaking away from the usual and giving out advice to the grooms. Ladies, take this column to your significant other and tell him that if he cares about you, he’ll read it. Guys, your girl just handed this to you. I just said that if you care, you’ll read it. She’s still staring at you, right? Yeah, you have no choice now. You might as well read on. Trust me, it’s for the best. Really.

Don’t take this the wrong way. I do want you to have a good time at your wedding. But are you the one sitting in my office week after week? Not usually, although some of you are, and more power to you. You might get more say than the others. I hate to break it to you, but the day is still mostly about the bride. As for the
Dumb and Dumber
suits that most of you would like to wear on your wedding day? Yes, they’re hilarious. No, you can’t wear them. Fine, if you think you can convince your fiancée, go ahead and ask. She said no, didn’t she? Why don’t you think of other things that you’d like at your wedding—things important to you that won’t embarrass her when she goes to show off the wedding pictures to her friends. There’s almost always a way to fit your personality into the wedding, too. A good wedding planner can help. (I’m not saying it has to be me, but I totally could find a way to bring it together. Just throwing it out there.)

Here’s what else you need to do to make sure your wedding is the best possible experience for you and your bride. Be where you’re supposed to be when you’re supposed to be there, put your best face forward for pictures, and make sure your best man brings the rings. If your best man’s memory is a little unreliable, enlist the help of your mom—just do whatever it takes to make sure those rings arrive. They’re kind of a big part of the ceremony, and if you forget, your bride-to-be might think you did it on purpose.

Speaking of your fiancée, I know things are different. Most likely she’s a little crazier and a lot more stressed out than you remember, but give her a break. She’s been dreaming of this day all her life and she wants it to be perfect. She overlooks some of your bad habits, doesn’t she? You love her, right? Good. Then cut her a little slack, let her know you appreciate her hard work, and get ready for a happy bride. When it’s all said and done, she’ll go back to her normal self and you’ll be the lucky guy who snagged her.

Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?

…

I pushed my copy of the
Las Vegas Beacon
to the far corner of my desk, thinking I might check out the rest of the articles later. As for my column, I’d learned my lesson. Instead of writing a big bragging article about how I was going to get married—take two—I’d stuck with solid wedding advice. Not for Brendan, because if I were going to give him advice, it’d be for him to actually tell me what he wanted. Instead he told me to do whatever I wanted, from colors to food to dresses. Even the music. When one of my brides pushed her wedding date at the Sunset Gardens back a year—she found out she was pregnant and wanted at least six months after having the baby to make sure she fit into her wedding dress—I asked Brendan if he wanted the spot. It was my favorite place, and it was hard to book. He’d said he was ready, but I guess I was testing the waters to see how ready he actually was.

He’d said, “Hell yeah! Let’s do it—the sooner, the better.”

Which, in addition to making my heart pitter-patter, left me to plan a wedding in just over three months. Hey, if anyone could do it, I could. And I had. The caterer was set—Jillian, of course—and the venue, along with flowers, cake, and the music were all triple-checked and set to go.

On to the next item on my to-do list…

I scrolled to the number on my cell phone, my finger hovering over the call button as I stared at the number. I’d wanted to reach out for a while, but it was such a hard step to take. One I thought I shouldn’t have to make. But I also knew that if I waited for my mom, I might wait forever. So I hit the button and listened to it ring, readying myself to leave a message.

“Dakota?”

Mom’s real-life voice was unexpected enough that it took me a moment to form a response. “Hi, Mom. How are you?”

“I’m good. I like San Diego.”

Her happiness sounded forced, and I wondered if she was ready to move on already.

“I was just calling to say…” I reached for my water bottle and took a sip. With how harsh she could be, I almost didn’t want to tell her. I’d spent so long being happy about it, and I didn’t want her telling me I was stupid to be trying again. Brendan was the one who kept insisting I’d regret it if I didn’t at least ask. “I’m getting married, Mom. To Brendan. This weekend. And if you want…” Suddenly speaking in full sentences was such a challenge. “We’re doing a big ceremony and a reception. And I know it’s late notice, but I’d like you to be there. If you want to be. But if you can’t get away, I completely understand.”

I braced myself for disappointment—Brendan was already on high alert, ready to come to my office and take me out if this didn’t go well.

“If you’ll have me, I’d be honored,” Mom said. “Dakota, you have to know that there’s not a day that goes by that I haven’t regretted the way we left things. I’m working on it, okay?”

The wall I’d put up around my heart to prepare for this conversation cracked, letting a soothing balm of relief in to take its place. I knew we’d never be completely okay, but I thought we might find a different kind of relationship now that both of our expectations had changed. She was my mom after all, and I’d miss her if she wasn’t at my wedding. We made small talk for a little while, catching up on the months we’d missed. Apparently Frank had visited her there a few times, and they were talking again. Weird, but that was my mom and relationships.

She swore she’d be civil to Dad, too. Having them in the same room could very well be a disaster, but that often happened at weddings with split families, and I knew how to keep them separate if needed.

By the time I hung up, I felt pretty good about things. I checked off a few more last-minute items and smiled down at my list of to-dos, so many lines showing how much I’d done. My office door opened as I was closing down my computer for the day.

I blinked, thinking I must be seeing things. “Grant?”

He held up the same issue of the
Beacon
I’d been looking through earlier. “So it’s true, then?”

“I’m sorry, but no girl actually wants
Dumb and Dumber
tuxes at her wedding.”

“Not your column, Dakota. Phoebe’s.”

It’d been a while since I’d been in one of her columns, and since avoiding them helped keep my temper and ragey feelings toward her in check, I’d stopped reading them—it’d been good for me to stop caring what it said, and Jillian knew what to tell me and what to filter.

I sighed. “Do I want to know? Because I’ve been really working on my chi and—”

“The wedding of our very own Dakota Halifax and her fiancé, Brendan West, is scheduled for this weekend. I know we’re all asking the same thing. Will this wedding stick? My guy told me the odds are 3 to 2. I haven’t decided which side of the line I’m betting on.”

I curled my hands around the arms of my office chair, squeezing as tightly as I could. “See, that’s why I don’t read it anymore. If you want to know the odds, you came to the wrong place.”

“I mean the getting-married-this-weekend part.”

It’d been ten months since Grant had jilted me at the altar. When it’d first happened, I never thought I’d be attempting to get married again so soon. But here we were, one failed romantic relationship and an uneasy friendship later. “I told you that he and I had gotten engaged.” Funny enough, at a mutual acquaintance’s wedding, one that I’d coordinated and he’d managed to attend. He’d been there with Amy, and while it was slightly awkward at first, enough time had passed for us to have a decent conversation—though Amy had clung to his arm pretty hard.

“No, your giant ring told me,” he said, glancing at it now. After I’d told Brendan my ex had noticed the diamond before I’d even had a chance to break the news, he’d joked that it was worth every penny.

“Right. Well, the answer to your question is yes. Brendan and I are getting married this weekend.”

“Let me guess. Sunset Gardens?”

Talking about wedding plans with Grant made all my nerve endings stand on end. All while I’d planned, I told myself that this wedding was happening, but I suppose a tiny part of me was preparing for if it didn’t. Having to look at the guy who did stand me up was making that part double in size, and it was ugly with snarly teeth. I was going to need to hit the boxing gym tonight, I could feel it.

I tried to shake that off and focus on his question, wondering why he wanted to know. He’d seemed to have moved on with the mother of his son, and I was surprised at how glad I was to see him happy. So we were cool now. But if he was looking for an invite, he’d be looking forever. There was moving on, and then there was madness. “Yes, Sunset Gardens. An opening came up.”

Grant glanced at the floor and then back up at me. “I should’ve known. You always talked about that place. It hit me after, you know… How I should’ve let you plan it your way. How selfish I’d been to even suggest that cruise, like another country would settle my cold feet.”

“Grant, we’ve been over this already. Me in the paper. You in the paper. The whole city knows about it. Now if you’ll excuse me…” I pushed out my chair. “I’ve got to close down the office.”

“Dakota.” Grant reached across for me, then seemed to think better of it and pulled back his hand. “Do you still hate me for standing you up?”

“I never hated you. Which was totally annoying.” After the dust settled and I’d had time to reflect, I realized that everything between Grant and me had led me to Brendan, and for that, I was grateful, even though a less-painful path would’ve been nice.

“When I read you were getting married, it got me thinking, and I just… Amy and I already had a rough go our first time around. We’re working on a relationship while trying to do what’s best for our son. I want to do it right this time, but it scares me still. How’d you get over it?”

I thought of Brendan. While he didn’t provide much input on what he wanted at our wedding, he did constantly ask me how it was going. When I talked nonstop about colors like champagne, blush, and merlot, he’d listen, even though he didn’t care which tablecloths or placeholders or flowers I chose. And every morning, he’d hand me my coffee made up the way I liked, wrap his arms around me, and whisper in my ear how many days we had left until we were married.

“Not sure ‘over it’ is the right phrase. It’s more like…hope. And faith.”

“Well…congrats. And good luck. With everything.” Grant held out his hand again, but this time for a handshake.

I took it, though it was an oddly formal gesture for everything we’d been through. “Good luck to you, too.”

Grant and I stared at each other for a weird beat. Then he flashed me a smile and walked out, looking lighter than when he’d come in.

As the door closed behind him, it felt like a fresh new start was stretched out in front of me, shiny and full of endless happy possibilities.