Page 47 of Monsters, Vows, and Growls
Carol groaned. “You arenot.”
“Oh, but I am.”
“You’re evil.”
“And you look amazing,” I said sweetly. “Now let’s go cry over tulle and talk about how you’re going to survive sitting next to the man who calls you Tinker Bell and says your voice makes his ears bleed.”
Carol flipped me off, but her cheeks were pink, and her lips were twitching, fighting hard to hold back a smile. I didn’t say anything right away. I just watched her out of the corner of myeye as we pulled into the boutique parking lot. Her sunglasses were still on, but her body language had shifted. She was tapping her fingers against her thigh, not in time to the music, but to some anxious thoughts in her head. Which meant the Gabe comment had hit home.
I might be getting married, but I wasn’t about to letmymaid of honor hide behind an emotionally safe fireman with an adorable rescue pit bull if what she really wanted was a six-foot-four emotionally constipated linebacker who called her Marshmallow and couldn’t make eye contact without insulting her height.
We walked into the boutique, and the manager greeted us like we were celebrities. Which, to be fair, in this town we kind of were—especially now thatSmoke & Emberhad made theTop Ten Most Anticipated Openingslist for the region and Carol’s latest book had featured a football-playing bear shifter who was definitelynotinspired by my future brother-in-law.
Don’t think I didn’t notice the character was named Gavin.
Carol disappeared into her fitting room, and I stood in mine, staring at the dress that had made me cry in front of three strangers and a very concerned Carol the first time I tried it on. It still fit like magic. Even better now that they had let the seam around my chest out enough for me to be able to breathe. Creamy silk, lace around the bodice and arms, a deep cut on the back, and a square cut on the front. It hugged me around my hips like a glove before it opened into a wide skirt with layers of petticoats underneath. It was a dream come true.
I stepped out onto the platform in front of the mirror, smoothing the bodice as I turned.
“Oh my God,” Carol said from behind me. I turned to see her in a sleek emerald dress that hit just above her knee with a high slit that practically screamedtry me, I dare you.
“You look incredible,” I said.
“You look like a fairytale ending,” she replied, voice softer now. “You really do.”
I met her eyes in the mirror. “You okay?”
She hesitated. “Yeah.”
“You sure?”
A beat passed.
Then she sighed. “I just… I used to think it would be me up there one day. Not necessarily first, but—eventually. And now it’s you, and I’m so happy for you, but also, I’m terrified I’m going to ugly cry through your vows and choke on cake in front of someone who once called me anEncyclopain.”
I laughed. “You won’t choke. I trained you better than that.”
“And Ben’s sweet,” she added. “He really is.”
I turned to face her. “But?”
“But he doesn’t make me want to scream and stab a throw pillow and kiss someone at the same time.”
“So, Gabe.”
“So Gabe,” she admitted, finally.
We stood there for a moment. Bridesmaid and bride. Best friends and chaos magnets. After a beat, she rolled her shoulders back. “Well, at least my dress will look amazing when Iinevitably storm out of the reception in emotionally confused rage.”
“Or,” I said gently, “when you don’t.”
She didn’t answer. Just adjusted her neckline, and produced a donut she must have smuggled in from the snack table the boutique had provided,bless them,and shoved it in her mouth to fill the silence. In her eyes, I read the hope that maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't have to storm off at all.
“Okay,”Ella said, tapping her pen against the kitchen table. “Let’s talk invitations.”
I looked up from my notes, where I’d just finished sketching an entryway arch for the new build. “You mean the ones we should’ve sent out, like, last week?”
She ignored me, flipping open a page in her wedding planner notebook. It had tabs. Color-coded ones. God, I loved her. I loved every detail about this wonderful woman.
