men manning the entrance.
Cameras flash outside the large glass windows as paparazzi try their best to get a shot of my sister trying on a dress in the closed shop, but remarkably, Billie seems unfazed, browsing through the racks of dresses and occasionally answering the bridal shop staff’s questions about what type of dress she’s looking for—something beautiful but classic, with lace and a mermaid fit to show off her little booty—with little to no regard for the circus outside.
Even at nearly six months along into her pregnancy, my sister only has an adorable little belly to prove she’s carrying a baby inside her. She’s so svelte, in fact, my spidey sense tells me that every woman she comes into contact with is plotting her murder.
Most women loathe the idea of trying on any clothing while pregnant, but Billie already has a wedding date set—seven months after the baby is born—and the strict wedding timeline she’s all but chiseled into stone is all related to her budding career as a Hollywood producer. She’s worked her ass off, and nothing is going to make her lose any ground.
That means today is wedding dress day—pregnant belly, rioting hormones, and indigestion or not.
I just hope she’s not being too hard on herself. I have to believe Luca would step in and tell her to take a breath if she were, but I also know he thinks she’s got a ladder long enough to hang the moon and the stars. What she wants, he moves mountains to give her.
I smile when a woman named Colleen with three bridal gowns hung over her arm practically trips herself while helping Billie into a dressing room but doesn’t even pause. Billie is the star today, and everyone in Grace is committed to making sure she knows it.
“Here goes nothing.” My sister flashes an excited grin in my direction before she closes the curtain.
Thrown into sudden silence, I can’t help but wonder if I’ll ever be the woman on the other side of the curtain—if I’ll ever have a man who buys me flowers for no reason, sneaks cute pictures of me just to store them in his phone, or brings me coffee in the morning without being asked.
I roll my eyes at myself and sit down in a pale-pink satin chair right outside Billie’s dressing room. My sister’s happiness is pervasive, obviously, and seems so good in the abstract. But the reality of my situation is that I don’t have time for anything remotely close to love right now.
One day? Maybe? I don’t know. If it meant that much to me, I would think I would have pursued it more.
Either way, it doesn’t matter.
Right now, I’m too busy with music and tours and movies—hello!—to settle down with anyone, much less get married and pop out a couple kids.
I can handle a short little fling here and there, but a committed relationship just isn’t in the cards.
It also wasn’t in the cards for Billie, but look at her now…
I run a hand through my long blond locks and shut off my brain before it gets out of hand.
Thankfully, right on cue, my sister steps out of the dressing room in her first wedding dress. Bodiced in lace and satin, the mermaid-cut dress hugs her curves in all the right places—even her cute preggo belly. Not even a shotgun wedding would make my sister any less stunning.
Tears prick my eyes before I can stop them.
“Billie,” I say in a shaky voice and lift my hand to swipe away one lone tear escaping down my cheek. “I’m speechless.”
“You like it?” she asks, stepping up onto the platform and staring at herself in the mirrors.
“I more than like it. I love it.”
She meets my eyes in the reflection and notes another tear that slips down my cheek.
“Oh God, don’t cry,” she says with wide eyes. “Once you start, then I start, and then we end up a blubbering mess. Lord knows, all these pregnancy hormones rolling around in my body hold the power to ignite a three-hour sob fest, and my tears seem extra salty lately. I don’t want to pay the dry-cleaning bill for dresses I don’t even own!”
“Too late for that.” I laugh through my tears and stand up to close the distance between us.
“Is it okay?” she asks, running her fingers down the sides of the material. “I mean, it’s not exactly optimal to be trying on wedding dresses when you’re pregnant.”
“Shut up,” I chide. “You’re like a