Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
“What an absolute saint you are, Mom,” Brooke says sarcastically. “I guess that makes up for the four-mouth-long bridezilla–a–thon you took us on.”
We all laugh, Sonya the loudest.
“I’m not sure,” Mila says after a pause. “I’ve got a one-piece in my suitcase. And I want to take some time to style my hair.”
“Don’t forget mine,” Sonya cuts in. “What about you, Brooke?”
I think of Banner telling me he wants to smooth my hair from my face, the way he calls it messy in a beautiful way.
“I don’t know. I was thinking of keeping mine as it is.”
“Well, that’s no fun,” Sonya says with a tut. “Why don’t we make a little event for the three of us? We can do our hair and get ready together.”
“Sure, Mom,” Mila says brightly. “That sounds great.”
I take her lead, conscious of not ruining this for Sonya.
“Yeah, Sonya. Actually, that sounds fantastic.”
She beams, making me feel like the biggest asshat ever for even thinking of telling her no.
But part of me does wish I could go with my regular hair… the hair my man’s always complimenting, always telling me he loves.
The hair he’ll one day gently pull on in passion or run his fingers through, as my husband, when guilt is just a memory.
“Oh, wow,” I mutter, staring at myself in the mirror.
Mila has made a sculpture of my hair. She’s interwoven patterns at the top but left the sides down, combed, with artful pieces of jewelry here and there.
Combined with my black dress it makes me look….
Elegant, sophisticated.
It makes me appreciate my curvy figure in a way I never have before, but I think that’s only possible because of Banner’s hungry attention.
It’s hard to believe I’m not beautiful, at least on some level, when Banner’s massive frame goes taut with desire every time we speak.
I keep thinking about what it’s going to be like later, laying eyes on him for the first time since I saw him walk across the beach.
I’m not sure I’ll be able to handle it. But I have to try.
“You’re gorgeous,” Sonya says, placing her hand on my shoulder. “Any man would be lucky to have you.”
I grin tightly, hoping she can’t tell I’m making it artificially large so I don’t show any discomfort.
Mila strides forward, looking elegant in her romper, her hair styled similarly to mine except with more emphasis placed on one side.
Any man….
I wonder if there’s a way to tell her I don’t want any man.
Just one. And it would destroy everything.
“So,” Sonya says after we’ve gathered our things. “Are we ready?”
Mila and I exchange a look.
Despite the unspoken thing hanging over every single moment, we manage to nod, then smile, and suddenly it’s like there isn’t anything else.
It’s just this moment's happiness, the joy of almost being stepsisters.
We head out to dinner, the lights bright on the beach as the sun sets, people already standing around drinking champagne and mingling.
I spot Banner right away, standing on the other side of the lit area, looking dashing in his steel-colored suit, the same shade as his hair, catching the emerging moonlight, catching every light as it bounces off him.
His body seems to go even tenser as he turns and spots me.
Our eyes meet and Banner just stares.
He stares like he’s going to duck his head and charge at me, pushing people out of the way in his primal hunger to be close to me, for us to melt together.
Mila touches my arm.
“Brooke, you’re sort of staring. And when I say sort of…well, I don’t mean sort of.”
With an effort, I manage to turn away, even as instincts scream at me to turn back. I’m yelling silently for my man. It would be enough for him to gently hold me, telling me he meant every word, letting me hear it in his voice.
Mila does a good job of keeping me away from him as we go through the rehearsal dinner. She’s always at my side, the best friend – the best stepsister-to-be a woman could ask for.
Dad seems happy.
Everything’s going well, even if I have to force myself to turn my gaze away from Banner. It’s like there’s this magnetic pull, exactly what dad and I talked about yesterday, though I don’t think he’d appreciate it when it comes to his best man.
Yeah, everything’s going well…
Then, dad stands up and taps his fork against his glass, looking over the quieting crowd, pausing for a moment to share a smile with me.
I do my best to return it, aware I shouldn’t have to try.
This moment should be special, full-stop, with no justification needed.
“Now, I don’t expect my oldest friend to have prepared two speeches,” Dad says. “But in the spirit of putting him on the spot…how about a few words from my best man?”
Everybody chuckles at dad’s ironic tone, then turns to face Banner. I look down at the long table we’re sitting at, my heart picking up the pace right away as Banner rises to his feet with his classic, somehow-dangerous laziness.