Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 94205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
“Thanks! I owe you big time.”
14
She’d thought the rehearsal dinner was hell on earth.
Turns out, she was wrong.
It also turned out that none of the other bridesmaids were wearing dresses like hers. She stared over at them in horror. They were all in flattering A-line dresses in a pale silvery-blue. That would have looked kickass with her silvery lavender hair.
None of them were in orange. None of them were wearing a mermaid-style dress they could barely walk in.
“Lara, what’s taking so long with your makeup? Oh! Oh.” Her mother stared at her in horror as the makeup artist stepped away with a grimace.
“What? What is it?” she asked. She hadn’t had a chance to look at herself in a mirror yet.
“Why would the makeup artist do this?” her mom asked, looking around for the woman who had high-tailed it out of there.
Lara got up and dashed into the bathroom. She stared at herself in horror. Dear God. It was hideous. She was as orange as her dress. The foundation was a terrible shade for her skin. The makeup artist had given her bright pink lips and sparkly orange eye makeup.
“I look like an Oompa-Loompa,” she whispered.
“There must have been some mistake. I’ll get the woman to come back and fix it. I don’t know how this happened.” Her mom turned as though she was about to storm from the bathroom.
But Lara knew exactly how it had happened.
Emily.
She’d obviously told the makeup artist to give her this look. Why did she always have to be like this?
“No time, Mom. I’ve got to get into my dress. Will you go get it for me while I try to take care of this?”
“Sure, dear. I’ll do that.”
Lara found a cloth and wet it, scrubbing at her face until it grew pink. She wouldn’t have any makeup on for the wedding, but at least she wouldn’t like she’d fallen into a vat of orange paint.
“Here you are.” Her mom walked into the room and hung the dress up on the shower rail before unzipping the cover.
“Oh no! There must have been a mistake. This isn’t the dress,” her mother said.
“Oh, that’s it. No mistake.”
“I knew she was getting you a different dress because you’re her sister. But I’m sure Emily didn’t order this. The dressmaker must have made a mistake.”
Sure. It was always someone else’s fault. Never Emily’s.
Because she could never do anything wrong.
But this would not break her. She would get through this. And she’d be having the last laugh once that money was in her account.
“This is the dress,” she confirmed. “Can you help me into it?”
Her mom held it while she stripped off, then stepped into it. Then she turned so her mom could zip up the back of it.
“There, well . . . it’s interesting.”
At least the woman at the dressmaking shop had fixed the fit. But it was still orange, and she was going to be lucky if she made it down the aisle without tripping up in the restricted skirt.
“Dear, where did you get that bruise?” Her mother took hold of her wrist and she flinched, nearly shoving her away.
Easy.
“Bumped my wrist against a car door,” she told her.
“You always were clumsy. We need to try and cover this with makeup. It looks unsightly. Oh, and there’s that burn mark on the back of your shoulder. I can’t believe that never faded. You should have let me get a cosmetic surgeon to look at it. I still don’t understand how you managed to get a burn on the back of your shoulder.”
She tuned her mom’s voice out as she fussed over her.
It was just a few hours of hell. Tomorrow, she’d be free.
She could do this.
She’d lived through worse.
Butch was sitting in an aisle on the bride’s side. He’d taken a seat at the back. Everyone who’d come in had taken one look at him and given him a wide berth.
He guessed they didn’t get many tattooed, bearded cowboys in Devotion. Kind of crazy when they were in a small town in the middle of Texas. But things had always been weird in this town.
They basically worshiped their mayor, Chandler Devout, like he was some sort of god. It was bizarre.
“Hello, there.”
He didn’t bother looking up, assuming the man must be talking to someone else. How much longer? They were already twenty minutes past the time that it was meant to start.
He needed a drink and to see Lara. She was the only reason he was putting himself through this. All these people were bonkers. This wedding was so formal it made his back teeth ache with the need to do something outrageous.
Tanner would have already, he knew that for sure. He’d probably have already run naked through the room. Or something just as insane. But he wasn’t Tanner.