Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 151044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 755(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 151044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 755(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
I was more drawn to the simpler styles anyway. “That one?”
“Perfect.” She removed it from the display and handed it to me. “Make sure it fits.”
While she examined the shoe selection, I slipped the lace garter onto my head like Olivia Newton-John and began to aerobicize, doing my own rendition of Let’s Get Physical.
Phina laughed. “You’re so opposite from Hale.”
I grinned and kept dancing. “I know. That’s why he loves me.”
She grinned and studied me for a moment. “You look really pretty. Even while wearing a garter on your head and dancing like an idiot.”
“Not wanting to crush my veil, I removed the garter and slipped it under my dress. I couldn’t believe I was asking this… “Can I wear the gown a little longer?”
Phina smiled. “Of course.” She adjusted the garter.
“It seems odd to have a garter on one leg and not the other. I don’t get it. Do people put money in them or something?”
“You’re a bride, not a cancan girl.”
As I followed her around the main area of the store shoppers complimented how pretty I looked. Attention wasn’t usually my thing, but in that moment I felt like a superstar, so I ate it up.
“Thank you,” I gushed, fanning my hands with all the drama of an old Hollywood socialite. “I’m the future Mrs. Davenport.”
“Rayne, try these on.” I let Phina slide a pair of three-inch heels onto my feet, which—not gonna lie—elevated the look.
I continued to flutter about the boutique, using my best Ava Gabor accent. “My fiancé’s so dreamy. Please, darling, give our regards to Broadway.”
“Who is she talking to?” Lilly asked.
Phina shook her head. “I think herself.”
I sipped my champagne, talking to my reflection at every mirror I passed. “Thank you for coming,” I purred. “You’re so kind.” I turned and showed off the elegant back of the gown. “We’re so glad you could make it. Why, yes, my ass does look fabulous. Thank you for noticing.”
“The models are back,” Lilly announced, carrying a large binder to the register that conveniently faced the front window where a stretch limo parked.
“If you don’t want Barrett to see you in your gown, Rayne, you better head to the dressing room.”
“Barrett’s here?”
I sort of wanted his reaction to help me gauge Hale’s. Not that they went for the same type of women. Barrett only dated blonde bombshells and I was more of a brunette blunder-fuck. But he was a heterosexual male with an active penis who also happened to share Hale’s DNA, so it was worth a preview.
“He’s doing a photo shoot for our men’s line.”
Lilly tilted her head toward the front window where the limo idled at the curb. A chauffeur helped a leggy blonde out of the car, and then I spotted Barrett.
“Is he wearing makeup?” I asked as the sun glinted against his chiseled cheekbones. Damn, he was too pretty for a boy. His carved facial features were only more pronounced by the man-bun twisted at the back of his head.
Lilly stationed herself by the front window with a clear view of him. “All the models wear makeup.”
“Rayne,” Phina said, less distracted by her brother’s arrival. “I still need to get your exact measurements.”
Phina pulled out an enormous ledger. As things got intensely businesslike at the register, I wandered toward the door to surprise Barrett.
Another female model with legs up to her neck climbed out of the limo with astonishing agility and two-foot high heels. She brushed a familiar hand over Barrett’s arm. My smile faltered as the willowy creature leaned close to whisper something in his ear.
“What the fuck?” There was something off about the way they looked at each other. Something more intimate than being mere co-workers.
Barrett brushed her blonde hair behind her shoulders and angled his head, smiling and edging closer until his lips brushed hers.
“Oh, hell no!” I shoved my champagne glass onto a display and pushed through the doors.
“Rayne!” Seraphina yelled. “You can’t wear that dress outside!”
I practically hip-checked Barrett off the sidewalk with the force of a Canadian hockey player. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Rayne?” His startled eyes dropped to my gown. “Whoa. You look incredible.”
“Don’t try to sweet talk me, you man-slore. Why the hell are you putting your tongue into other people’s mouths!”
“Okay, just calm down, Meyers.”
The model looked from me to Barrett. “Excuse me, who are you?”
“I’m his future sister-in-law.”
She squinted and cocked her head in confusion, as if trying to solve a math problem way beyond her grade level.
I scoffed, losing patience. “I’m marrying his brother.” I turned back to Barrett, hiking my thumb in the model’s direction. “Seriously?”
“Rayne, you have to come back inside with the dress,” Phina spoke frantically from the door.
Cabs honked and people bustled by, nudging me this way and that.
The model looked around nervously for an ally. “Why don’t you call me later, Barrett?” She edged toward the limo.