Charity Case - The Complete Series - Piper Rayne Page 0,115

she places her hand on my upper back nudging me closer.

Zoe sits on the chair, glancing through a magazine.

“Hi, Mom.” I bend down and kiss her cheek.

Her matching-my-own blonde hair is sleek and cut to her chin. Her makeup impeccable, her outfit fresh off the racks of Neiman’s even if her and my dad can’t really afford it. Image is everything and apparently worth going into debt for.

“Chelsea,” she says. “You’re late.”

“I ran over from work.”

My phone dings in my purse, but I ignore it.

“You look beautiful, Sky,” I say, taking a seat next to Zoe, far enough away that my mother can’t whisper to me.

“Thanks.” Sky’s voice is full of happiness and excitement all rolled up inside a confetti bomb ready to explode.

“What’s up, cuz?” I ask.

Zoe drops the magazine to her lap. “Where do you want me to start? The fact that I haven’t lost my baby weight yet and Caiden, he’s what?”

“He’s almost three, sweetie,” my aunt Liz answers.

“It’s called dramatic effect, Ma. I know how old my son is.”

Liz laughs. “Well, you seem frazzled a lot lately.”

Zoe sits up in her chair. “I have two kids and a husband who can’t clean up after himself.”

“Been there,” Aunt Liz says, sharing a look with my mom.

“Still picking up the socks,” my mom finishes, and the two women laugh.

“Beckett picks up his socks,” Sky says.

“Now he does. Vin used to bring home flowers on a whim. He made me CDs, wrote me letters. Now I get a text saying he needs me to go buy him more underwear.”

“No way,” I say.

Although I’ve been married, my life never progressed to where Zoe’s at.

“I bought him briefs…the ones with smiley faces and a pink pair with bananas on them.”

I smack the arm of the chair, laughing uncontrollably. “What did he say?”

“Oh, he wore them. It’s Vin after all, but I told him I am not his personal shopper. He argued that he buys me panties and bras, but he does that because it benefits him. I have no problem with cotton.”

She drops the magazine on the table in front of us with an agitated flourish.

“Next time get him a set where they have a sleeve to put their…” I eye both our moms who are enthralled in our conversation. “Thingy.”

Zoe quirks an eyebrow at me and then points. “Done.” She grabs her phone. “Hello, Amazon.”

“Chelsea, stop being so vulgar.” My mom leans forward, shooting me her ‘you know better’ expression.

My phone dings again from inside my purse.

Zoe’s thumbs stop moving. “Aren’t you going to get that?”

“Nope.”

She shrugs and dramatically presses her finger to the screen. “All ordered. I’d show you, but I don’t want you envisioning Vin in all his hot glory,” she says, thick with sarcasm.

“Thank you for sparing me the agony.” I wink at her.

“Well?” Skylar turns and stands in front of us.

“Oh, Sky.” Aunt Liz stands and looks to her daughter, tears in her eyes.

My mom gets up and hands a tissue to her.

She looks breathtaking in a strapless beaded bodice that shows off her amazing figure. Tight through the middle and flows down into multiple layers of satin and sheer fabric. The perfect dress for the perfect bride.

Thinking back to our earlier conversation at RISE about weddings, I say a small wish that Sky and Beckett are in that ten percent. She deserves it.

“Great choice,” Zoe adds, her fingers feeling the fabric of the skirt. “It’ll be perfect for summer.”

“Definitely.” My mom chimes in. “You’re the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.” She shoots me a fleeting glance. In five years, she’s never let me forget the fact she didn’t get to plan an elaborate and costly wedding that would have surely bankrupted them.

“Thanks.” Sky tears up slightly. “I hope Beck loves it as much as you guys.”

“He’d love you walking down in an eighties dress complete with puffy shoulders and rhinestones galore,” Aunt Liz assures her daughter.

We all know she’s right. Beckett might have needed a push in the right direction, but now that he’s there, I’ve never seen a man more willing to declare his love.

“Now it’s your turn.” She points to me and Zoe.

“What about Demi and Mia?” I ask.

“They’re getting fitted and sending their measurements.”

Why didn’t I do that? Because dress shopping is a rite of passage and I love my cousin and don’t live out of state.

“Plus, I didn’t want too many people here to make the decision on which dress you’ll wear,” Sky says.

I tilt my head. “You haven’t chosen