Page 70 of Love Under Snowfall

Friday, the wedding day: Frankie

“You’re telling me you aren’t even the teensiest bit nervous?” Todd asked Lucy as he secured a few rhinestones in her expertly sculpted hair. Glossy chocolate waves cascaded down her back while delicate wisps played about her face. Todd truly was a master craftsman when it came to beautification. He’d plucked, shaped, teased, painted, and pinned the bride within an inch of her life, all the while managing to enhance her natural features into something ready for the runway.

“Looking this good, how could I possibly be nervous?” Turning her head this way and that, she inspected her friend’s handiwork, smile beaming with unfiltered joy. “I look like me, only airbrushed,” she said with a giggle.

Frankie watched her almost-sister rise from the chair and hug the only man allowed in the bridal party’s dressing room. “You look stunning, Luce. My brother is one lucky SOB. In more ways than one. You’re way too good for him, and if you ever figure that out, it will be too late. You’ve already been claimed by the Miller clan.”

Lucy grinned, mist gathering in her eyes and embraced Frankie in one of her notoriously bone-crunching hugs.

“Enough of that, ladies.” Todd marched over, handing a tissue to the bride and lightly pinching Frankie’s side. “You’ll sully my masterpiece. Go pee so we can get you into your gown.”

Gingerly dabbing at her eyes, Lucy scurried off to thebathroom.

“I’m surprised you went with a suit,” Frankie mused, perusing the tall, slim man from head to toe. Dark hair swooped and secured in aGQ-worthy fashion, custom-tailored suit grazing every inch of lean muscle, ridiculously expensive shoes buffed to perfection, Todd looked every ounce the stunning male specimen that he was.

“Our girl told me Dirty O’Feelya was welcome at the shindig, but I declined. She’s a performer, a show stealer. And as you so rightfully pointed out last night when that walking louse showed up late—today is about Lucy and your brother. It’s not about the rest of us.”

“You’ll still turn heads in this getup.” Frankie nodded in admiration, appreciation warming her words.

“Well, it’s not like I’mdead.”

They both laughed as Lucy emerged from the bathroom. With the assistance of the other two bridesmaids, Lydia and Kylie, the group draped the bride in her long-sleeved lacy wedding dress. Frankie had begun the arduous process of fastening the thirty-thousand buttons that trailed from nape to just below Lucy’s rear when there was a gentle yet adamant knock on the suite door.

“I got it.” Todd walked over and greeted whoever stood on the other side with a low voice. After a little back and forth, he shut the door, reapplied a winning smile, and said, “Frankie, dear. Duty calls.”

“What’s wrong?” Lucy asked, voice wobbling for the first time all day.

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Frankie reassured Lucy. “Probably the caterers asking where to put the chocolate fountain or something.”

“But we didn’t get a chocolatefountain—”

“I’ll handle it. Want me to bring back a snack for you?” She crammed every shred of calm she could manage into her expression and practically breathed a sigh of relief as Lucy smiled and nodded. “Great. Bourbon and a packet of fruit snacks coming right up. Lydia, can you take over the buttons? My fingers were about to bleed from the sheer number of them anyway.”

“Bite me,” the bride said as she laughed.

Frankie winked and joined Todd at the door.

“If you need backup, text me, and I’ll come running,” he rumbled, one perfect brow arched mischievously. “Oh, and I’ll take a bourbon.”

“I already planned to bring back the bottle,” Frankie drolled then slipped out the door.

She lifted her gaze and froze at the laughably sexy display of male beauty leaning against the opposite wall. With nothing in her mouth, she still managed to choke and cough.

“You all right?” Benjamin stepped forward and gently patted her back. His hand singed through the ice-blue velvet of her bridesmaid gown. The heat rippled across her skin and quelled the onslaught of shock that had taken her aback.

How?

How was he this devastatingly handsome in real life? Practically poured into his dark navy blue tuxedo, the fabric stretched seductively across his shoulders, tapering down to a trim waist. Her gaze lingered on his hips, recalling how they’d moved in ways that could ultimately lead to her destruction.

She shrugged his hand away and got ahold of herself.

“Fine. What is it?” She aimed for clipped but winced at how snotty she sounded.

“Zac,” he said after taking a moment to conduct his own perusal of her.

“Fuck,” she cursed sharply and started down the hall to thegroom’s suite. “You can fill me in as we go.”

She stopped and turned when she realized he wasn’t by her side, catching him in the middle of a shameless stare. Perhaps he had all the time in the world, but Frankie needed to fix whatever clusterfuck the groomsman was causing and get back with Lucy’s hanger prevention as soon as humanly possible.

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