Page 17 of Treasured By Them
He better not be getting cold feet. I haven’t fucked him up yet, but I would for this, for hurting Dani. “Something wrong?”
“Fuck no. I was just thinking.”
“Spit it out, E.”
He frowns and looks away. “You’ll be my best man, right?”
“Sure.” That’s gonna sting, standing up there with them. Watching the two of them say their vows and all that other shit. Everyone celebrating their perfect, fairy-tale love—even if it is a sham, an arrangement.
“Good. I can’t imagine being up there with her, without you.”
“Yeah.” It’s too early for this.
He looks at me, his green eyes intent. “Maybe you should come ring-shopping, too. Maybe we should both marry her.”
I stare at him. Is this a real suggestion?
He laughs quietly. “Can you imagine how my father would react?”
“Not well.” I grin, but it’s forced. I wanted him to be serious more than anything else.
“Still, I like the idea. The two of us taking care of her forever. We don’t need rings for that, I guess.” He smooths his fingers over her shoulder.
She makes a soft sound in her sleep.
He’s right. We don’t need rings to take care of her forever.
“So.” His smile turns evil. “Who gets to wake her up with his tongue in her cunt?”
I raise my eyebrows. “Rock, paper, scissors?”
“Sure.” He sits up and holds out his fist.
I’m already diving under the covers and spreading Dani’s legs.
Danica
After Edmund and Troy leave for the day, I cave and call my mother.
She answers immediately. “Danica, what a nice surprise. Zora and I were just talking about you.”
“Oh, she’s still there?”
“She and Malcolm are staying in the guest house while they view real estate. They’re settling in San Esteban.”
“Neat. Uh…so I’m going dress shopping today.”
She sucks in a breath, so loudly I can hear it through the phone. “You still don’t have a gown?”
“I’m working on it. Do you…do you want to come with me?” As tense as things have been between us, I still love my mom and I know she loves me. And her no-nonsense approach to this wedding will mean I settle on a gown. Today.
“I’m free.” She lowers her voice. “Can Zora come, too? You should see how wedding crazy she is, and I think she’s lonely.”
“Sure, why not?” Zora could be a nice buffer between my mom’s and my tendency to snap at each other when we get stressed.
Two hours later, we’re at a large, warehouse bridal store that had a last-minute appointment available. It’s the only place we could get into, so this is the place I’ll find my wedding dress.
Lines and lines of bridesmaid dresses fill the front of the building. Off to the side are various accessories—veils, garters, shoes. On the other side are suits and tuxes. Bright fluorescent lights glare down at us as we make our way toward the bridal fitting area.
