Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 106312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
“None whatsoever,” I deadpan.
“Perfect. Then I’ll bring a variety of choices out.”
Fan-fucking-tastic.
CHAPTER 36
Jewel
I’m two drinks in and rocking a nice buzz. All the dresses are tight. Some are poofy, and others look like layers of tablecloths were draped on top of me.
They look great, sure. But every time I put another one on, I’m sucked deeper into a well of anxiety. I don’t get anxious, dammit. But trying on wedding dresses is freaking me the fuck out.
I’ve listened in on some of the casual conversation between Eli and Rya. They’re talking about the wedding planning. I’m grateful to be as far away from that bullshit as possible. Eli is more intelligent than to ask my opinion on cutlery for a wedding I don’t want any part in.
I step out of the changing room, now wearing the fourth dress. Eli looks up at me through his eyelashes with an expression of wanting to fuck me in every dress I walk out in. When I spin to look at myself in the mirror, I feel like I can’t breathe. Maybe she tightened this one too much?
I close my eyes momentarily, reminding myself just to get this over and done with so we can get married, and I can get my fucking guns back and then run away from whatever bullshit this is stirring within me.
“I think that’s a perfect fit,” the sales associate says as she tightens the corset on my back even more. I almost keel forward from how suffocatingly tight it is.
The alcohol was meant to help, but right now, I feel like everything is spinning.
“Do you love it? It fits you like a glove. Stunning, really,” Rya gushes as she stands and approaches me with a third glass of champagne, holding it out to me. Without a word, I grab the glass, throw it back in one go, and then hand it back to her. Fuck etiquette right now. I’m trying my hardest not to freak the fuck out.
I never wanted marriage. I wasn’t made for it. And although I know all of this is fake, my heartbeat is trying to kick through my ribcage.
“Jewel, are you okay?” Rya asks, carefully placing a hand on my shoulder.
I offer a tight smile and nod my head.
“Happy with this one?” I ask Eli through gritted teeth.
He stands and prowls toward me, his gaze taking in every detail before he stops in front of me.
“I think any dress you put on would be perfect,” he says matter-of-factly, but then his hand runs up the outside of the dress, bunching it as his fingers trail up my skin. “But you also have amazing legs. What about a slit up the skirt to show them off?” He smirks, and the heat from my anxiety mixes with something else—desire. I need to be grounded again because I feel like I’m spiraling right now, and I keep my gaze locked with his, as if it’s the only thing keeping me here.
“I’d like to be left alone with my fiancée for a moment,” he announces. Rya and the sales associate share a brief glance and then leave us alone in the room. The moment they’re gone, I storm around him, grab the bottle of champagne, and start chugging.
He snatches it from me. “Hey!” I demand. He steps into my space and turns me so I face the full-length mirror. His hands come around to my front as he stands behind me. “What are you doing?”
“Look at yourself,” he calmly instructs.
I don’t want to. I don’t want to see myself in this dress. I’ve struggled with looking directly at myself this whole time. He grabs under my jaw and tilts my head up. I want to look away but can’t because he holds me in place.
“Do you want to know what I see?” he asks as his hands bunch the front of my dress. He then begins trailing his fingers over the exact same spot he suggested I get the split.
“A ticket to your family’s business,” I snark back.
“A powerful woman,” he insists. “A woman who doesn’t run from a challenge and hits her fears head-on.”
“And what do you think my fear is, Mr. Monti?” I breathe out, unable to ignore his fingers caressing my skin. Unable to look away from the view of us in the mirror.
“Marrying me… or anyone else. Commitment. Having a family.”
My eye twitches at the last comment. It was dead on and too close to my truths and vulnerabilities, as they’ve started surfacing these previous few weeks. I smile with twisted hatred at his insight. I adjust my foot slightly and bring the heel of my shoe down hard on his foot.
He grins as I press down harder. His hands continue to trail upward, then tuck under the dress and into my panties.
“You’re out of your mind if you think I’m going to let you fuck me in this wedding dress. Besides, I’m on my period, motherfucker.” I lean back into him, purposefully pressing all my weight onto the heel, digging into his foot. It must hurt, but it doesn’t show in his expression.