Sinful Ever After (Sinful Serenade Book 5) - Crystal Kaswell Page 0,10

eight. I permit you to meet Dr. and Dr. Smart for dinner at nine." She turns to Miles. "You, arrange dinner. And no excuses about how you were too busy writing love songs or getting new tattoos or something."

Miles chuckles. "Sure thing, Kara. Good to see you again. How did you like, uh..." He runs his hand through his hair, trying to recall the city of Kara's trip.

"Shanghai. It was different." She turns to Drew with an encouraging smile. "Throw a depraved bachelor party. Put Tom's to shame."

"A depraved party that ends in time for him to get to dinner at nine?" Drew asks.

"You're in Vegas. I'm sure you can squeeze lots of depravity into the next ten hours." She laughs. "I believe in you."

***

The bridal shop is huge and it's pink. Every inch of space is pastel pink—the floor, the walls, the frames around the mirrors, the couches, the register.

There must be a thousand dresses. A few hundred are close enough to my size—they do rush alterations here—that they make viable options.

There are several hundred dresses to choose from.

And I haven't got a clue about my venue. About the time of day. If I'm inside or outside.

My heartbeat picks up. It's hard to breathe.

Where do I start? I've never thought about a wedding. Not the dress, the venue, the cake, the flowers. It's never crossed my mind.

Now, I'm attempting to arrange everything in a span of 48 hours. Seventy-two max.

It's overwhelming.

"Relax, sweetie," Kara says. "I've got this."

"But..."

"Do you have any idea what you want?"

"Not boring but not tacky either."

"Ah, I've got it. Sit down." She nods to the pink couch in the dressing area. "Allow me."

"Okay."

I collapse on the squishy couch. I'm still working at a sleep deficit, and this is a hell of a comfortable seat. I let my eyes close and take a half-nap.

Twenty minutes later, Kara is ready to go. She hangs the dresses in one of the stalls and taps me on the shoulder.

I focus on my reflection as I step into the dressing room. Is that really me, in a boutique, trying on a gown? Frizzy dark hair, brown eyes, and gawky figure—yep, it's me.

I'm really doing this.

After I strip to my panties and put on a logline bra, Kara helps me into a gown. It's heavy white satin, so white it catches all the light in the store.

There's something flattering about the sheath dress—it makes me look statuesque and classy—but its utter lack of adornment is boring. It's barely fancier than a maxi dress I'd wear to the beach.

She adjusts the bust and waist. "Too simple?"

I nod in agreement.

"I have just the pick." She helps me out of my dress and my bra and into a fluffy ball gown.

I'm swimming in taffeta. The ball gown makes Cinderella look under-dressed. The ruffled skirt takes up most of the dressing room. The bodice is adorned with rhinestones. They catch the fluorescent lights.

"It is loud," I say.

She laughs. "When in Vegas..."

"Sparkle like the stars."

"You do sparkle." She steps backward and takes a long look at me. "You hate it, don't you?"

I nod.

"I have an idea."

Despite the horror that is this dress, I trust her.

She helps me into another half-dozen dresses. None are right, but we start to narrow in on what I want—ivory, not white, a ball gown or a princess dress with a touch of adornment.

We must be at dress ten. I'm about ready to fall asleep on that pink couch. It feels like it's been hours.

Kara looks me over. "You want to break for lunch, or do you want to try two more?"

"One more."

"I'll make it count." She looks at the dresses left on the rack and picks one. "Here we go."

It's pretty. It has a light sparkle, a full skirt, and a gorgeous, rich ivory color. It's almost cream. Not that I know the difference.

Kara undoes the corset back, and I step into the dress. She takes her time lacing the back.

Her voice gets bright. "I think this might be the one."

My chest feels light. Is it really possible I'm in my wedding dress? The thought is equal parts exciting and terrifying. "Really?"

"Really." She takes my hand. "Let's look in the main room."

The dress is a few inches too long. I'll have to wear heels. As it is, I'm barefoot.

I stumble all the way to the mirrors in the center of the room.

My exhale is a mix of relief and excitement.

The dress is straight out of a dream and it fits like a