Chapter 13

Brynley

I know the real focus here should be on the insanely gorgeous wedding gowns taunting me from every fucking angle in this Pretty Woman approved boutique; however, McCoyhavemercy this cupcake that I got from Yasmine’s Yummies across the street is giving me an orgasm that rivals the one Wes gave me before he went into the office for a PR meeting.

This shit is so good I cried when I ate my first one.

Cried and begged the owner to cater our wedding.

And then cried again when she immediately agreed.

I’m not entirely sure all of those tears were joy based.

They could’ve just been the hormones.

And also fuck hormones.

All of them.

I lean back against the cushioned light gray couch near the full-length modeling mirrors, pull the Andes mint I’d been saving off the top of my second mint chocolate cupcake and prepare to shove it in my mouth. “It doesn’t matter what I wear. I’m gonna end up looking like a fucking beached whale shark.”

“Is that what you want to look like, Bryn?” Kristal Riesgraf, one of the owners, cautiously asks upon her return. “Because our only goals here at Weardeville are to make the bride look and feel the way she wants.” Her caramel beige hand politely extends my mom the glass of champagne she retrieved while I finally push the candy past my lips. “We understand the importance of being surrounded by those who want to love and support you on your special day, but the day is about you and your fiancé . And the dress?” She lets a wide smile slide onto her thin lips. “ That’s all about just you. ”

“As it should be,” echoes her identical twin, Kristine Riesgraf, during her reappearance with a bottle of water for me and Holmes who is positioned silently near the locked shop door. “Wear what you wanna wear. Make the statement you wanna make. Be whoever you wanna be. Give yourself that gift on your wedding day of all days.”

“That’s a helluva sales pitch,” I compliment prior to having another bite of my crumbly mess. “I see why Velora insisted I come here.”

“Less of a pitch and more of a family policy,” Kristal informs as she pulls her long, black hair to one side of her face. “Our parents were both married twice – to other people – before finding each other, and each of those wedding days were disasters focused on everyone but them – something that isn’t too hard when you’re from small towns like Applecourt and Middlebrook – so when they finally decided to tie the knot to one another, they insisted it be about them. And that empowering moment inspired them to want others to be inspired. They claimed that it was their ability to get married on their own terms that led them to have a marriage on their own terms which is what has kept them together for all these years.”

“Mom says it starts with the dress hence why she quit her job to pursue her passion of wedding dresses.”

“And why dad didn’t mind working an extra part-time gig to help get this place off the ground.”

“And why our dress up time was spent playing here. ”

“And why we got our prom gowns here. ”

“And why we will get our wedding dresses here ,” Kristine states at the same time she positions herself beside her sibling, hands folding together in the front of her black dress. “Assuming we ever get married.”

“Turns out men are actually a lot more intimidated by women who work in the wedding industry than other fields.”

“Like just because we work with brides all day, we’re dying to be one.”

“It’s quite the opposite, actually,” Kristal insists. “After being around this much tulle and lace and beading and fighting and meltdowns and crying, weddings are basically the furthest thing from our minds when we step foot out of this place.”

“I’d rather talk about rock climbing and Harleys-”

“Kristine so has a thing for those Misfit bikers,” whispers Kristal from behind her hand.

“And Kristal would rather do shots of Torrez while talking about basketball or hockey.”

“Go Dragons!”

“ The point is ,” she sighs as I shift the remainder of the treat into my mouth, “we always pour all of our wedding thoughts and enthusiasm into the bride we’re helping rather than worrying about what we think, or their wedding party thinks because the dress should be about them. ”

“And we are ready to serve you , Bryn,” Kristal sweetly announces on a folding of her hands together. “And only you. Mr. Wilcox rented out the shop for the entire day. He wanted you to be our only client and have the privacy to shop at your own pace.”

“However, if you feel you need a break from dresses, we can switch to shoes or accessories or even shift our focus to the lovely mother of the bride.” Krstine shoots my mom a wink. “We have quite a selection for her as well as bridesmaids in the back rooms.”

“Main floor is only about the bride .”

Kristine politely inquires, “Will others be joining you today?”

“I’m not even sure I have others that will be joining me on the day,” I absentmindedly confess prior to having a sip of water. “I um…I don’t exactly have a lot of friends.”

“I’m sure Vanessa and Calen will both say yes when you ask.”

It’s impossible to not shoot her a sarcastic stare. “Yeah, because Wes just loves my off the bridge relationship with Scotty. I can only imagine how excited he would be to see him standing beside me on our wedding day.”

“Is Scotty another friend?” Kristal inquisitively investigates.

“It’s simply a Star Trek reference she’s making in relation to Calen, her best friend,” Mom retorts before I can. “My daughter is a Trekkie.”

“ Seriously?! ” Kristine enthusiastically exclaims. “I have just the dress to show you!”

There’s no stopping my head from angling in curiosity. “You have my attention.”

“We just got in a shipment of ‘fandom’ inspired gowns with nods to their original creations. Like Princess Leia-”

“That’s Star Wars. ”

“Samantha Carter.”

“ Stargate. ”

“And T’Pring.”

“ That ,” my finger feistily points in her direction, “is me. That one is my Star Trek shit.”

“Eeeek!” squeaks Kristine. “Let me go get it!”

Her swift disappearance threatens to make me smirk.

Is it just luck that my future husband rented out a space that had something related to my favorite franchise or did he make sure to mention that to Valora during one of their conference calls I couldn’t make courtesy of a bitchy boss that doesn’t believe in love.

Or personal phone call breaks.

Or personal space considering how much she’s been hovering since my injury.

Which is healed by the way.

So, I don’t know why the fuck she’s still breathing down the back of my neck like a goddamn megamouth shark.

“While my sister grabs that, why don’t I get an idea of what else you’re looking for?” Kristal invested demeanor remains. “Long? Short? Tight? Flowy?”

The latter causes my brow to furrow in contemplation.

Just exactly how pregnant will I be when our wedding day hits?

Do I want that to be seen in all our photos?

Do I want that to be the focus?

Can we move it up sooner?

Can we move it up a lot sooner to the point people probably can’t even tell?

Sure, we made the formal announcement a couple weeks back during the 4 th of July celebration, but that doesn’t mean I want it to be the focus on the day.

“Did I overwhelm you?” Kristal uncomfortably cringes. “It wasn’t my intent! I swear! I just…I was just looking for a direction to go or avoid or-”

“ I don’t know ,” comes out in more of a whispered confession than intended. “I…I didn’t think I’d be pregnant during this time so…I don’t know what to wear. Or what I should wear.”

“You wear whatever you want,” she declares at the same time she lowers herself to be eyelevel with me. “You want something flowy to hide your curves. Let’s do it! You want a bump to be what people see, we can tie that shit up with a red bow! Something in the middle sound better? We’ll arrange it. Whatever you want , Bryn, is the only thing we want to deliver.” A gentle, encouraging palm lands on top of my chocolate crumb covered lap. “All you have to do is communicate with us what that is. We’re here to serve you.”

Being served whatever you want sounds wonderful.

Except of course when you have no clue at all what that is.