“What’s the big deal?”
“This isn’t a real wedding.”
“Yes, it is.”
“No. No, it’s not.”
“You gonna say vows to me?”
“Yes.”
“You gonna mean ’em?”
I paused, thinking it over. Was I?
“Yes,” I finally replied.
He got to his feet and stepped in front of me. “Then it’s a wedding. You’re marryin’ me.”
“But it’s—”
“We’re gonna try and make it work, right?”
“Yes.” I sighed.
“Then you’re gettin’ a dress.”
“What are you going to wear?” I asked, leaning against him as his hands started stroking up and down my neck.
“Want me to dress up?” he asked, a smile in his voice.
“No dirty t-shirts,” I grumbled.
He laughed and I felt his lips against the top of my head. “I’ll clean up.”
“Leave the scruff on your face,” I ordered, making him laugh again.
“Like that, do ya?”
“Especially between my legs,” I replied, nodding.
He groaned and I smiled. “Jesus, go get ready. You’ve got forty minutes until we’re overrun.”
I ran to the bathroom and took the fastest shower ever, hissing every time Tommy yelled the countdown through the door. Thirty minutes! Twenty minutes! Ten minutes!
I was just sliding a summer dress with skull and crossbones all over it over my head when someone was knocking on the door.
“You ready?” Tommy asked.
“Yep.” I threw the covers back up the bed so it looked somewhat made just as he opened the door, and women started pouring in.
Like, a bunch of women.
More than just Tommy’s mom and aunt.
Callie and Farrah were there, but so were Brenna and Trix, Amy, Cecilia, my sister and Molly.
“Nice dress,” my sister said with a roll of her eyes, making Tommy snicker.
“Hi Heather,” Callie said, giving a little wave. She couldn’t do much more than that considering the amount of people in my tiny ass apartment. I was pretty sure we were breaking fire code. “We told a couple of the girls,” Callie told me with a small shrug. “Everything usually ends up being a group activity.”
“Uh, okay,” I mumbled, looking around the room.
“Do you know everyone?” Farrah asked, gesturing around.
“Yeah,” I flashed a small smile. Oh, dear God. This was going to be bad.
“Okay, let’s go then.” Farrah looked over at Tommy. “You guys are gonna kill each other in the first month if this is all the space you have.”
“We have a bed and a kitchen,” Tommy replied with a smirk. “Don’t need much more space than that.”
Farrah laughed and shook her head while I felt my cheeks freezing in embarrassment. I refused to even look at Callie as she ushered all the women back outside.
“Have fun,” Tommy said, snagging my wrist as I tried to follow them out the door.
“I’m going to hurt you,” I hissed as he tugged me toward him.
“Just go with it,” he ordered, kissing my unresponsive lips. “I’m gonna get some shit set up while you’re gone.”
“What shit?” I asked suspiciously.
“Chairs, music, kegs.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I muttered, throwing my arms in the air.
What had started out as a quiet wedding was turning into a goddamn circus.
“It’s fine,” he said quietly. “The women’ll deal with the food. You’ll figure out flowers and a dress today. Easy.”
“I’m not wearing a big poofy dress,” I warned him, glaring as he smiled.
“Wear whatever the fuck you want,” he said, dropping another kiss on my lips. “Now go.”
I yelped as he smacked my ass as I was walking away, but I didn’t even bother turning around, I just flipped him off over my shoulder.
* * *
“What are you looking for?” Brenna asked as I froze in front of a bridal shop. The display window was full of gowns, mermaid style, princess style, long and lacy, sleeves and strapless.
No.
“Not this,” I said, immediately feeling like an asshole.
I knew they were just trying to be supportive, but the entire thing seemed fake. Just the day before, most of these women or their husbands had been on the phone with Tommy telling him what a bad idea getting married was. They’d cajoled and given out dire warnings and in some cases made me out to sound like a crazy bitch who was luring him in with my magic vagina. I’d heard them. My apartment was tiny. It had been impossible for Tommy to keep his conversations private. They’d said all those things, yet most of them had assumed that Tommy and I had been seeing each other before the lockdown. None of them had any idea that we’d gotten together only a couple of days before.
“Yeah,” Farrah said with a nod, looking me over. “I get you.”
She turned to the group of women who were getting out of their cars and standing on the sidewalk. “This isn’t the place,” she announced. “Follow me.”
She tugged me back to her car where Callie was standing, talking to someone on the phone. “Let’s go, Cal,” she said as she threw open her door. “We’re goin’ somewhere else.”
“What?” Callie asked as she stuffed the phone back in her purse. “Where are we going?”
I cringed and climbed into the back seat, keeping my mouth shut as Farrah explained to Callie that the bridal shop was too prissy.
“I’m sorry, Heather,” Callie said, her embarrassment apparent.
“No,” I said, my voice squeaky. “It was fine, I just—”
Farrah started laughing. “She doesn’t want to look like a fuckin’ cake topper.”
Twenty minutes later we were pulling into a strip mall and parking in front of an antique store.
“Before you say anything, just trust me for a minute,” Farrah said, meeting my eyes in the rear view mirror. “Afterward I’ll take you for a surprise.”
I snorted, but couldn’t help but smile back when she grinned at me.
I liked Callie, but Farrah and I seemed to speak the same language.
Everyone was complaining and asking what the hell Farrah was doing as they climbed out of their cars, but Farrah ignored them. She just looked at Cecilia who was also smiling.
I followed her inside, past a bunch of different vendor stalls with everything from old Pokémon cards to china. Most of it looked like junk, but I kept my mouth shut. She’d said I should trust her, and I was curious to see what the surprise she’d promised was.
“Holy shit,” I mumbled as Farrah came to a stop, throwing her arms out wide.
Hanging in front of her, surrounded by even more junk, was a gorgeous, off-white 1930s wedding dress. It had a deep v-neck, short flowing sleeves that looked like they’d hit right at my elbows and a short train.
“We found it a few months ago,” Cecilia told me as I stared. “But my boobs would make it obscene and Mom wouldn’t have anywhere to wear it. We almost bought it just in case Lily’s boobs don’t get any bigger.” She laughed a little.
“Fucking gorgeous, right?” Farrah asked as I stepped inside the little booth and unhooked the hanger from the ladder it was hanging on. The dress was really well preserved. I couldn’t find any holes or stains, and the back was just as gorgeous as the front.
“Will it fit?” Callie asked.
“If it doesn’t, I can alter it,” I whispered wide-eyed.
“You’re welcome,” Farrah said smugly.
“Damn, that’s going to look fantastic on you,” Trix said, nodding her head.
“Tommy better not wear a dirty t-shirt,” I muttered as I looked back at the dress. I pulled the price tag away from the sleeve and almost swallowed my tongue.
“Don’t look at that,” Mel ordered, taking the dress out of my hands. “Oh, Jesus. Mom gave me literally ten times th
at much to pay for your wedding dress.”
“She did?” I asked.
“Yeah, she’s working today, but she wrote me a check.”
“Oh.”
“It’s all good,” Mel said with a smirk. “We’ll find other uses for the money.”
“Thatta girl,” Brenna said, speaking up for the first time. “We still need flowers, manicures and pedicures, something for your hair—”
“A headband,” Molly announced, cutting Brenna off. “That dress needs a blingy headband.”
“Enough!” Farrah announced, raising her hands in the air. “I promised Hawk a surprise first.”
Mel paid at the register as everyone else filed out of the store, but I couldn’t make myself walk away from the dress. I knew things were getting out of control, and I felt my stomach churn, but I still couldn’t look away from that gorgeous dress.
“It doesn’t need to be wrapped up,” Mel said quickly, when the employee reached for my dress with grimy hands. “Thanks, though!”
A couple minutes later we were flying down the freeway with my dress hanging in the seat next to me. I reached out to touch it and ran my fingers over the silky fabric. I was pretty sure it was real silk. My heart began to race.
Long white gowns weren’t my thing. I wore pop culture t-shirts and tie dyed shorts. Doc Martens. My favorite dress had little anatomically correct hearts all over it. I swallowed hard and opened my eyes wide, trying not to cry. What the fuck was I doing?
“We’re here,” Farrah announced outside a brightly painted house.
“This is my surprise?” I asked, quickly following her out of the car.
“Trust me,” she said again. I really wished she’d stop saying that, but I had to admit that her last surprise had been pretty epic.
I followed her up the porch steps and through the front door, and I couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across my face.
“This is where you’ll spend your mom’s money,” Farrah announced, her tone making clear exactly how she felt about my mom’s absence. She nodded toward one of the display cases and I walked over to it slowly.
Inside was row after row of body jewelry. It wasn’t the cheap stuff either. It was gold, and diamonds, and emeralds, and sapphires.
“Perfect,” I whispered, catching sight of a delicate diamond stud shaped like a flower.
“Need help?” someone asked, walking out from behind a curtain where I could hear tattoo needles buzzing.
“Can I see that one?” I asked, pointing to the one I wanted.
“Sure. You looking for something for your nostril, too?” she asked, pulling out the little case. “This one has a coordinating ring.”
She pulled out another case and pointed out the nostril ring. It was gold, too, and along the edge that would wrap around the outside of my nostril was a row of tiny diamonds.
“Oh, look,” Trix joked, looking over my shoulder. “Those diamonds are the same size as your engagement ring.”
“Shut it,” I joked, lifting my eyes to the woman helping me. “I want those.”
She named a price that was insane and I glanced at my sister.
“Whatever you want,” Mel said. “Get ’em.”
“Do you want to switch them out now?” the woman asked, reaching under the counter for my sterilized jewelry.
I bit my lip. There was no way I could change them out myself, but I kind of didn’t want Tommy to see them until the wedding. It was stupid. It wasn’t a real wedding, no matter what he said, but…
“I can switch them for you,” Farrah called out from across the room where she was looking in another case. “If you want to wait.”
“I’ll wait,” I said, glancing at my sister again to find her giving me a small smile.
The rest of the day was spent running all over town. We went to a flower stand and bought a shit ton of flowers, back to the bridal store that I’d balked at for a headband, to a salon for a touch-up on my blonde and to get my completely massacred nails done, and finally ended up back at Farrah’s house where the women sat around her huge kitchen table picking through the flowers we’d bought.
“We didn’t get a cake,” I said as I sat back in my chair. “We can just get one from the grocery store right?”
I was halfway out of my chair before Callie spoke. “It’s taken care of.”
“It is?” I asked, dropping back into my seat.
“Yep. Don’t worry.”
“I wasn’t worried,” I answered automatically, making everyone laugh.
Oh, God. What was I doing? Somewhere along the line I’d gotten caught up in their planning and I’d forgotten reality. My stomach turned.
Chapter 10
Thomas
“Lookin’ for your mom,” my dad said abruptly the moment I answered my phone that afternoon. I was staring at the black button down and new pair of jeans I’d bought, hoping like hell I’d gotten the right thing. I hadn’t bought anything but t-shirts, hoodies and work pants in years and I had a feeling I was going to look like a douchebag at my own wedding.
“She’s with Heather and the girls,” I told him, glancing at my boots by the front door. They were scuffed as hell, but I could probably get most of the dirt off of them. Heather was just going to have to deal.
“What?” my dad barked. “What girls?”
“Aunt Farrah, Cecilia, Brenna, Trix, her sister and Molly,” I rattled off, grabbing the shirt off the bed to hang it up. I sure as shit wasn’t ironing the thing, so hopefully keeping it hung up would work.
“What the fuck?” my dad bellowed, startling the shit out of me.
“What?”
“We were pretty fuckin’ clear when we told everyone not to be havin’ get togethers off club grounds,” my dad said, making me freeze. “You know where they’re at?”
“They were helpin’ Heather out with wedding stuff.”
“Of-fuckin’-course they are,” he snapped, before breaking the connection.
Shit. Things had been pretty quiet for the last couple of days, but I knew there was shit I didn’t know about going on behind the scenes. I had a feeling they were keeping even more from us prospects than usual. My dad knew something he wasn’t telling me.
I dialed Heather and she picked up after just one ring.
“Where are you?” I asked, already sliding my boots back on.
“I’m at your aunt’s house, doing flowers,” she said dryly. “Where are you?”
Ah, shit. My hands shook as I locked the door behind me and jogged down the stairs outside. I fucking hated my uncle and aunt’s house. Didn’t like being there, and really didn’t like Heather there.
“I’m on my way,” I said as I climbed on my bike.
“What? Why?”
I didn’t answer her, just ended the call and put my phone in my pocket.
When my dad and the guys got there all hell was going to break loose.
* * *
When I pulled up in front of my aunt’s house, Casper and Dragon’s bikes were already parked out front, but thankfully, my dad’s wasn’t. I walked up the stairs quickly and let myself in without knocking when I heard Dragon’s raised voice coming from inside.
“…told you not to be havin’ fuckin’ hen parties when we’re dealin’ with this shit, Brenna!”
“No, you didn’t!” she yelled back, making me cringe. She was the only person I’d ever heard talk to Dragon like that. Ever. In my life. “You told us not to have parties off club grounds! We went wedding shopping! We just got here and I was getting ready to call you!”
“You think they’re gonna care where you’re at?” he bellowed as I walked into the kitchen. They were staring at each other from across my aunt’s dining room table and the women sitting at the table were caught in the fucking crossfire. “They don’t give a shit if you’re at the motherfuckin’ nail salon! Someone sees a group of Aces old ladies rollin’ around town with no protection, not even a goddamn prospect, what you think they’re gonna do?”
“Jesus Christ,” Dragon muttered, running his fingers through his hair. That’s when I noticed the gray streaking through the black. He’d aged ten years in the last three.
Heather’s wide eyes met mine from across the room. She looked freaked the fuck out and I couldn’t blame her. Not only were people pissed as fuck about our wedding, but now the old ladies were getting into it with their husbands about it, too. I heard a bike out front and tilted my head, stepping farther into the kitchen when I recognized the pipes. My dad had shown up, and I was pretty sure Hulk had, too.
“Trix,” Dragon said as I made my way around the table to Heather, stepping in behind her to rest my hands on her shoulders. “You’re too old for me to beat your ass, but thank Christ I know your man’ll do it for me.”
“Shit,” Trix muttered as she got to her feet. She must have heard Hulk’s bike, too.
“Come on, baby,” I murmured into Heather’s ear, helping her up from the table. “We’ll leave ’em to fight it out.”
“What about Molly and Mel?” she asked quietly as Trix and Hulk started their own screaming match in the entryway.
“Guarantee their men are already on their way,” I said, shaking my head.
I hadn’t even thought to make sure the women had someone with them when they went out shopping. Brenna almost always had a shadow and so did my mom. It was so common there wasn’t any reason for me to check on it. Hell, I’d played bodyguard more times than I could count.
I walked Heather to the front door and almost made it outside before my dad came stomping in. He was scowling and I felt Heather shrink into my side as he passed us, but he barely glanced our way as he followed the sound of Dragon’s voice to the kitchen.
“Your dad hates me,” Heather said as I led her outside.
“He doesn’t hate you.”
“Oh, yeah,” she chuckled humorlessly. “He does.”
“My dad’s got a lot on his plate,” I told her, pulling her toward my bike. “It’s got nothin’ to do with you.”
“He thinks I’m just making my way through the Hawthorne boys,” she said quietly as we came to a stop. “He’s never going to let it go, is he?”
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