Page 124 of The Sweetest Devotion

I shrugged as I browsed a sequined strapless dress. “It’s Jay-Z’s birthday.”

This trivial piece of information I only knew from being a Beyoncé fan and because Jadyn lovedThe Black Album.

Sensing I was being a bitch, I spun around and pasted on a convincing smile as I slipped into my role. “My fiancé is a big fan and he sorta reminds me of Jay in that old soul kind of way. I know it’s corny and trite, but when he proposed to me he was so happy he sang a ratherbadrendition of ‘Love on Top,’ and it just felt cosmic to pick the fourth for our December wedding.”

My lie caused the awkwardness to cease as laughter filled the room at the idea of Cain Carter singing one of Beyoncé’s most popular songs.

That was all that was needed to start the torture of finding “the dress.” LeChé was gifted in the creative department, a true mastermind of designing dream gowns. I hated to waste my one opportunity to work with her on a fluke.

After trying on five dresses and earning approval on each one, I settled on a long-sleeved sequined sheath wedding gown. It wasn’t my taste, but I didn’t care to look beautiful on what would be the worst day of my life. I tried it on and of course the damn thing fit me like a glove.

“Oh, Kennedy.” Despite the circumstances, my mother had bawled at the sight of me in the dress of my choosing. Stephanie and Elyse were quick to comfort her and agree that the dress was the one.

Even I couldn’t make an ugly dress lose its splendor.

Go figure.

I hadn’t seen my father in over a week and no amount of animosity could stop the fact that I missed him. After finalizing the dress and making plans for December, I got back with my mother and together we made a pit stop at the nearest McDonald’s before coming back to the house.

At a time, I could just snuggle up with either parent and watch our belovedComing to Americaand all would be right with the world. I told myself as I got out of the car and carried my bag from McDonald’s with me that things would be better if I got lost in nostalgia with my father.

I was so caught up in my hopes that I missed the sign of Cain’s presence until I spotted him coming down the steps as we entered the front door.

“Cain!” my mother greeted the man briefly before facing me. “I’ll go check on your father.”

Cain was caught up admiring an old family photo of my parents and me. I was a young girl, probably seven or eight, and together my family and I were in Canada as my father had been opening up another international hotel.

I set my McDonald’s on the table near the steps and went over to Cain. “We went dress shopping today.” I gathered my phone and brought up the picture my mother had taken of me in the dress and showed Cain my screen. “What do you think?”

Cain brought his attention from my younger self to the picture of me on my phone. He angled his head before bringing those dark eyes of his over to me. “Isn’t it bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her wedding dress before the wedding?”

“Is it?” I played dumb. “Why don’t we roll the dice and see?”

As if to call my bluff, Cain reached inside his suit jacket and procured those clear red dice.

I scoffed. “Those things are probably rigged.”

Arching a brow, he handed them over. The brush of his skin against my palm sent a chill down my spine.

The dice were light in my hand, giving no tell if they were loaded or not. I didn’t know much about gambling or dice, but I thought I knew rolling sevens and elevens were good.

I shook the dice in my hand, only to have Cain’s hover over it.

I looked up to find him shaking his head. “Blow on them.”

Opening my palm, I glanced at the dice. “You don’t blow.”

“I tend to have a stroke of luck without it,” he said simply.

That sounded like bullshit. So, I ignored his suggestion and tossed the dice onto the table where I’d set my McDonald’s bag. They tumbled and rolled until they landed.

One was a three, and the other was a two.

They weren’t loaded.

Cain said nothing as he thumbed at his bottom lip.

I collected the dice and handed them back, playfully nudging him to get the resentment out. “Anyway, what didyoulook like as a kid?”

---