Page 69 of The Game Plan
Bret turns, nervous energy radiating off of her. “After Grant left the townhouse yesterday, I had to run to the mall. As I was walking through a department store, I saw this and thought… Well, I thought you might like something special in case you said yes to his half-cocked plan,” she says, holding the bag and unzipping it. “If you hate it, we can return it. I made sure to grab a dress with a long return policy, but I was hoping you’d wear it to marry my brother.”
Inside is a white sheath dress with sleeves that hit above the elbow. A rose-shaped detail is stitched on the sleeve. It’s simple with an elegant touch. The dress is breathtaking.
“I don’t even know what to say,” I whisper as my hand covers my mouth. I can feel my body tremble.
“Say yes to the dress,” Bret jokes. “Then say ‘I do’ to life with my broody brother.”
I wrap my arms around her, cautious of the dress and my bump as tears escape my lids. “Thank you, Bret.”
She squeezes back. “Welcome to the family, Savannah.”
Ismooth my hands down the front of my dress for the hundredth time, trying to calm the nerves fluttering amongst Jellybean’s kicks and rolls. As stunning as I feel in this dress at nine months pregnant, I still feel like it screamsshotgun wedding. The emotions are building like a roller coaster climbing its tallest peak. I feel like if someone looks at me the wrong way, I’ll erupt.
The courthouse is quiet for a Friday afternoon. I still don’t know how Grant was able to make all of this come together so seamlessly, but I’m not focusing on the details. For once, I didn’t have to do any of the planning and was able to show up. It feels good to have someone take care of me for once.
Digging through the small clutch I packed, I find my favorite nude-pink lipstick—the kind that almost looks like you aren’t wearing any but gives you the quiet confidence you need. I swipe it across my bottom lip, pressing it against the plump curve before coating the top. The woman staring back at me startles me. Even with the roundness pregnancy has added to my face, there’s a glow. One that hasn’t always been there, especially atthe start of this journey.
This glow is the Grant Campbell effect, and I’m perfectly fine with that.
My light brown hair falls in loose curls, my makeup more glam than my usual neutrals. Years of sorority formals trained me well. When I started getting ready this morning, Bret laughed that she knew it was my wedding day and that brides should be worshipped, but she knew nothing about makeup beyond mascara and lip gloss. The sweetness of the moment cut straight through the wall of nerves I’d been carrying.
This isn’t the wedding I pictured, but somehow, it feels exactly right. Simple.
With one last look in the mirror, I tug down the sleeves before running my hands over the fabric that hugs my bump as if it were made for me. Seriously, I don’t think Bret could have picked a more perfect dress for me, especially since she didn’t know my size.
“You doing okay?” Bret asks beside me, pulling a loose string from my dress. She’s been by my side all day, and I’m grateful. Of course, Brynn and Chloe have texted me nonstop, both happily pissed.
“Yeah.” I nod once, then again. It feels like the more nods I give, the more I’m reassuring myself. “I’m good…I think”
She chuckles, and I take a moment to admire her in the mirror. Her black hair is slicked into a low twisted bun. The navy satin dress hugs her like a second skin, a slit up the side flashing a tease of bronze leg, the high neckline showing off her sculpted arms. Hours in the gym and on the basketball court are written all over her.
I turn to her, my hand instinctively resting over my belly. “I can’t believe they fit us in. I thought for sure it’d be next week at the earliest.”
She flashes me a sly grin. “I guess the stars aligned.”
I narrow my eyes at her reflection, but don’t get a chance to press her on it. She pulls her phone out and busies herself. Meanwhile, I feel the swirl of nerves again.
Glancing down at my belly, I rub slow circles over the spot I can feel baby girl pressing her backside against me. I have no idea how there’s any room left for her.
Hey, Jellybean.
I speak to her as if she’s beside me, though the words never leave my mouth. A silent conversation only I can hear. A part of me likes to believe she hears them anyway—feels them.
This isn’t how I thought life would look. For the longest time, I imagined it was just you and me against the world. But then came Grant Campbell. Jellybean, that man is impossible to say no to. Not just because he’s gorgeous—though, my God, the arms on him, those hazel eyes, ohemgee—but because of the way he cares. The way he loves. I know I shouldn’t go on about how hot he is—not to you, at least, since he’s going to be your dad. Your dad. Wow. Why does that only hit me now? But here’s the truth: the man waiting for us already loves you as if you’ve always been his.
You ready?” Bret asks. Her phone vibrates against the counter, and she glances at it. Smiling at whatever she’s reading, she turns her attention toward me. “Let’s go get you married, Sav.”
Tears well in my eyes as her words sink in. Emotions flood my system, and I have to suck in a breath.
It’s time, Jellybean.
I take a deep breath. Then another. Finally, I nod as a watery smile spreads across my face.
We leave the bathroom, and Bret walks ahead of me to the small ceremonial room. The hallway echoes with our steps—my flats whispering, her heels click-clacking in counterpoint.
When we reach the door, she slips inside before turning over her shoulder. “He’s facing the front. You’re good.”
My breath catches in my throat.
