Blackstone Ranger Scrooge - Alicia Montgomery Page 0,62
in her week were the times she spent with Cam and Natalia, having dinner together a few times in the latter’s suite. In that short period, she’d come to adore the fierce, but loving old woman. She told them stories about growing up in the palace and her life before the revolution. But underneath the facade, there was sadness too. And though J.D. loathed Igor Dashokov’s side of the family, it was obvious that marriage to the polar bear gangster was the only way she could have a normal life and a family of her own.
As her admiration and affection for Natalia grew, so did the pressure to make this work. Could she really do it? Be the perfect mate for Cam, be by his side as he took over his grandfather’s legacy? What if she failed and fell—literally and figuratively—flat on her face?
She pushed away all the doubts and continued the mental countdown in her head to the Christmas Eve ball, willing it to come so she could get it over with.
Dammnit, she’d been so busy that she had actually forgotten it was nearly Christmas.
I don’t even have a present for Cam, she thought.
They’d spent every night together, of course, usually at his place because it was closer to Natalia’s hotel. He still hadn’t said I love you to her again, but neither did she. It was just so hard to find a time, with everything going on around them. After the ball, she told herself. On Christmas morning. As soon as they woke up, snuggled together in bed, she’d tell him she loved him. It was the perfect plan.
The night of the ball finally arrived, and all the girls were in Dutchy’s bedroom getting dressed, showered, and made-up. The men, on the other hand, were in the living room, watching sports and drinking beer.
“Yeow! That hurts! Jesus Johnnycake Christ, woman!” she cursed as Anna Victoria poked her eye with the fake lash she held up with a pair of tweezers. “Are you sure they haven’t outlawed that in the Geneva Convention?”
With a defeated sigh, Sarah walked over to her, holding a glass jar filled with coins and bills. On the front, it was labeled Swear Jar. J.D. grumbled, pulled a crumpled dollar bill from her pocket, then shoved it inside. This was one of the methods her friends had employed to curb her bad cussing habit.
“At this rate, J.D.,” Sarah began, shaking the nearly-full jar. “You’re going to buy us all two rounds of drinks at The Den next girls’ night.”
“Now, now,” Darcey soothed as she wrapped another of J.D.’s curls around a curling iron to help define the unruly locks. “It’s just an eyelash. Hold your breath and sit still. I don’t wanna burn you again.”
“Yeah, Anders nearly tore the door down when he heard Darcey shout,” Temperance reminded her.
“This isn’t fair,” J.D. pouted, crossing her arms over her chest. “Why do guys take five minutes to get ready, and we’ve been at this for hours, and we’re still not done?”
“The trials of being a woman,” Anna Victoria sighed. “Damon always complains about how long it takes me to get ready.”
“All right, I’m done,” Dutchy announced as she burst through the door. She’d had a few more adjustments to make to the dress after J.D. had tried it on and had retreated to her workshop. “Are you ready?”
“Let me finish up,” Anna Victoria said. “We’ll put your lipstick on when you’re done.”
Thankfully, Anna Victoria managed to apply the lashes without any more incidents or bloodshed. After getting into the silk and lace underwear and pushup bra Sarah had picked out, Dutchy helped her into her gown.
It wasn’t really a gown in the traditional sense. Sure, it was all peachy-gold silk and satin, with a sweetheart neckline and a bow in the back. But the tiered skirt split in front, revealing that the outfit was a complete pantsuit underneath.
“Wow!” Temperance exclaimed. “J.D., you look gorgeous!” Everyone else oohed and aahed and gushed over the gown.
“See, I told you I’d get it done in time,” Dutchy said, winking at her.
“Thanks, Dutch. I really couldn’t see myself wearing anything else. It’s so beautiful, but it’s something I would definitely choose.” She gave a turn, sending the shiny fabric swirling around her. “And it has pockets.”
“Are you guys done yet?” Gabriel bellowed through the door. “The limos are here!”
“Hold your goddamn horses, Gabriel Russel!” J.D. yelled back. “We’ll come out when we’re done and ready.”
“Oh boy,” Anna Victoria slapped a hand