You May Kiss the Bridesmaid - Camilla Isley Page 0,57
does that mean?”
“It means that you date, and see if you like each other. And if you were to fall in love, you’d both know your relationship eventually would lead to getting married and starting a family. The dating world is divided into two major categories: those who want kids, and those who don’t. And both categories know they should steer clear of the other, or else…”
“What about those who don’t know?” I ask.
Logan reflects for a second, and sighs. “Man, you must figure that out for yourself.” He pauses. “And if I can make a suggestion? Do it before it’s too late.”
Twenty-one
Summer
With every passing minute, I become more nervous. The moment to move to the chapel quickly approaches, and I swear I’m more on edge than the bride. Dread at having to face Archie makes my stomach burn, and my only consolation is not to be the maid of honor. A small mercy that will spare me from having to walk down the aisle arm in arm with the best man. Instead, sweet Tucker will be my escort.
I glimpse at my reflection in one of the illuminated mirrors at the back of the room. At least I have my best, contoured poker face on. The makeup artist pulled off a miracle. My cheekbones are highlighted to death, and the bluish bags under my eyes have been vanquished, while my cheeks have a healthy rose tint. And my lips shine with pink gloss. The hair is amazing, too, swept back in a romantic updo. Softly plaited at the sides and collected at the nape. The style isn’t too polished, with loose, curly tendrils left astray while tiny white baby’s breath flowers have been woven in strategic places. Lana’s hair is the same, while Winter’s is a little more elaborate, and she has ivory roses instead of baby’s breaths.
The bridesmaids’ gowns are out of a dream as well. Like any bridesmaid who’s ever watched 27 Dresses, I was worried my sister would pick a monstrosity. Not a period costume or a Beverly Hills fuchsia mini skirt, but she could’ve gone down the road of a drab olive-green color or the beaded prom dress from hell.
Instead, I’m wearing a one-shoulder illusion gown in a perfect blush shade, with soft, sweeping ruffled flanges cascading down the skirt. A smooth, shimmering sash at the waist completes the outfit.
Winter’s wedding dress is next-level dreamy, though. My sister has always been the tomboy out of the two of us, but getting married has really brought out her inner Disney princess. Her gown is a caged A-line marvel covered in punched floral appliqués that start at the illusion neckline, continue to the notched bodice, and cascade down the tulle skirt. But nothing, not the hair nor the dress, can compete with the radiance of her smile.
Gosh, what it must be like to be that happy. Because no matter how perfect I look on the outside, inside, I’m slowly fading out.
A knock on the door makes me jump and causes my stomach to tie up in even more knots.
Tucker peeks his head into the room. “Ladies, are we ready to go?”
“Yes.” Winter beams at him. “Where’s Logan?”
“The groom is already at the altar. All the guests are seated, and Archie is waiting in the chapel’s side room, from which we will make our entrance.”
Even hearing his name mentioned in passing makes me want to puke.
“What about my dad?” Winter asks.
“He’s with Archie. We’re good to go.”
Winter nods, and follows Tucker out of the room.
As we’re walking down a hall to reach the elevators, Lana grabs my arm, gently pulling back. “Are you okay?”
Her kind eyes are genuinely concerned, so I tell her the truth. “Right now my biggest life’s goal is not to puke on this beautiful dress.”
Lana chuckles, saying, “Take this,” and hands me a small wrapped candy.
“What is it?”
“Ginger. I’d gotten them in case Winter became queasy before walking down the aisle or something, but you seem to need it more than she does.”
We both glance ahead of us to where Winter is bouncing down the hall in a tulle cloud. Yeah, I need the ginger more than my sister.
We take the elevator down to the lobby, reach a back exit, cross a narrow patch of garden, and stop near the side entrance to the small waiting room leading into the chapel. Everyone is supposed to go inside, but I don’t want to share such a confined space with Archie, even if there’ll be a dozen