Page 101 of Waiting For A Girl Like You
“It’ll be short on you.” Annabeth gave the gown a once-over. “But yeah. I think it’ll fit.”
Annabeth knocked lightly on Jamison’s bedroom door. “Let me in. I want to see!”
“Let me in. I want to pee!” Evie’s voice was significantly less graceful as she thumped her fist on the door. “Ugh—never mind. I’m using Annabeth’s bathroom. Don’t show anyone anything until I get back!”
Jamison stood alone in front of her floor-length mirror, her breath caught somewhere in her throat. The dress was too short. It hit just above her ankle, leaving her painted toes exposed.
But that’s about where the problems with the dress ended.
The satin skirt floated around her hips like it had been made for her. The bodice hugged her curves, and the halter tie secured firmly behind her neck helped to show off her cleavage perfectly. As she spun, the fabric fanned around her in a sweeping arc of white, and the image she caught at every turn made her immensely happy.
She would still wear the dress she designed for Liam, but at this moment, wearing her mother’s gown in the quiet of her room felt so right. To her, Laura Jean Eddins was something akin to a fairytale. A myth more than a memory. And while it often felt like she was living in the shadow of a legend, it allowed her to observe how everyone processed the loss of Laura Jean in their own way. Her father told his stories. Simone would always stop and admire a painting or visit a new art exhibition that might roll through town. Evie would dance at the oddest of times, making Samuel and their girls join in.
For Jamison, it was a little more surreal. She had her dreams. Those weirdly fantastic fantasies her brain concocted to show mother-daughter conversations never to be had.
Yet, in this dress, the woman she would never know felt very much real. A ghost at her side. A memory that might not have been hers to have but was still hers, nevertheless.
The door opened and shut, scaring the shit out of her. “Jesus!”
Liam flipped the lock to keep a shouting Annabeth out. “Wow,” he exhaled as his gaze roamed over her. “You look…I don’t have the words.”
She swished her skirts at him, making the hemline creep upward to her knees. “Tell me I’m pretty.”
He took a slow step closer. “You’re beautiful.”
She twirled for him, letting the skirt swirl higher. “Tell me you love me.”
“I’ll love you always and forever.”
“Well then, Mr. Cohen, if you think this looks good…” She bit her bottom lip, eyes dancing. “Just wait until you see me in my real dress.”
Liam glanced up at the camera. The indicator light glowed blue, which meant sound only. Rowan was giving them privacy.
“He said I have two minutes.”
“Two minutes to what?”
Her question was answered with a kiss.
One heartbeat, then another, and Liam had crossed the room. His mouth crashed into hers like a man starved. “To have a moment alone with my future wife.”
She clung to him, pretending for a moment—just one—that the world outside didn’t exist. No Sinclair. No Zanmi. No surveillance. Just them in this room, on the brink of forever.
“Easy.” Liam chuckled when she moaned. “They can still hear.”
“I can be quiet,” she whispered, dropping kisses against his throat. “We could slip into the closet and—”
Her phone on the vanity buzzed with a text, and she glanced at it, rolling her eyes when she saw it was from Samuel.
Stop being fucking gross and tell Liam to come down.
Liam sighed, pressing a final kiss to her lips before pulling back. “We were in the middle of going over everything when I snuck out to see you in this.”
“Samuel can wait.” She pouted. “I don’t care if he hears us.”
He winced. “Actually…it’s not just Samuel. It’s Samuel, Holden, my parents, Klausen, Anderson, Izzy, Abe—oh, and Carter just got here.”
Her mouth opened. Then closed. “Wonderful.”
