Family Ties - Debi V. Smith Page 0,126

stretching out. “Are you going to stay for the dress shopping?”

“I wouldn’t miss it.” He grins.

I stand in front of the mirrors in a strapless white chiffon tea length dress. Several layers of chiffon gather and wrap around the bust and torso, then drops at the waist.

“I like it, but I don’t love it,” I say, exhaustion creeping back in. I just want to crawl into bed and sleep. Forget wedding dresses.

“Try the next one,” Jason prompts, taking pictures.

I huff out a breath and Arissa follows me into the dressing room. She helps me out of the dress and into the next one. It’s another tea length dress in eggshell lace and organza with a V-neckline and draped cap sleeves. A black silk sash circles the waist and the skirt flows out in an A-line.

I glance at her. “What do you think?”

“Have I given you an opinion on any gown?”

“No, and it’s driving me nuts.”

“It’s your dress and your day, not mine. You have to decide.”

Subdued Arissa is weird. It’s not like her at all. I’m not used to her lack of opinions and energetic behavior.

“Come on, Riss. Just one little comment,” I beg.

“No,” she says, pushing me through the curtain and towards the mirrors while I flip her the bird.

I suck in a breath at my reflection. I turn side to side to check out the dress in the mirror then look over at the sofa. Mom, Arissa, and Hunter beam. My eyes shift to Jason.

He snaps a shot, then gazes at me. “It’s you, Parker.”

“I love it.”

He steps in, presses his hand into the small of my back, and slips his free hand into mine. He guides me around the large stand to the tempo of the Jason Mraz song playing over the shop’s sound system. “Yes, this is the one.” The left corner of his mouth curls up.

Arissa helps me out of the dress and places it back on the hanger with care as I get dressed.

“They’re too quiet out there,” I state, pulling on my jeans.

I finish dressing then she opens the curtain. Mom and Jason aren’t there. Hunter hooks his thumb to the front of the shop.

“What the—“ I spot them at the counter with the owner of the shop.

“Uh oh,” Arissa says, peeking over my shoulder. “I think they’re both trying to put a deposit on the dress.”

“You’ve got that right,” Hunter says.

“Oh, crap.” I rush to the counter.

“Please, Rose?” Jason pleads.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“Your mom won’t let me pay for your dress,” he answers, handing me my purse.

“Your fiancé won’t let me pay for your dress.”

I sigh and put on my referee hat. “We have furniture to buy for the apartment and we’re paying for the photographer, florist, and cake,” I say to Jason. “Plus you have your own clothes for the wedding to take care of. Do you want to add my dress to the list?”

“I really hate when you’re right.”

Mom, Arissa, and Hunter snicker.

“Get used to it, Jason,” Mom says. “She’s going to be right a lot more than you are. Just ask Andrew.”

Jason steps away, gesturing at the counter with both arms. “All yours, Rose.”

I take his hands into mine. “You can buy me a different dress another time.”

“I will hold you to that.” He releases my hands, hooks his index fingers into my belt loops, and yanks me to him. “I need to get back and finish my homework.” His lips meet mine for a slow, sweet kiss.

“Enough with the tonsil hockey!” Arissa wisecracks.

We break apart and I flip her off again. She returns the gesture.

“Mom, I’m riding home with you two. Jason’s heading back to school.”

“Drive safe, Jason,” she says as she signs the receipt, smiling.

“Thanks, Rose.” He swoops in to plant a kiss on my cheek. “I’ll talk to you on Skype later?”

“Yeah. Let me know when you get in up there.”

“I will,” he says, “I love you, Parker.”

“Love you too, J.”

Hunter drapes his arm over my shoulders and I watch Jason through the window. He’s accosted by Nicole and Becky at his car. I exhale heavily, tired of them. “Mom, I’ll be outside.” I leave without waiting for a response from her.

“I’m coming with you!” Hunter calls after me. He’s out the door before I can stop him. “Shit,” he says, halting in his tracks next to me.

“Call the police.”

“Are you sure?” He fishes his phone out of his pocket.

“Look at them,” I answer.

Jason is pinned to his car by Becky. He looks around like

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