Me: Why? You know you can’t see me before the wedding.
“Look up,” Chloe barked, giving my mascara its final touch-up. “Unless you want to walk down the aisle with raccoon eyes.”
“Aren’t raccoon eyes a thing, now?” Sage quipped, as she sat on the dressing room sofa, fanning herself. Two weeks past her due date, she’d been hot and cranky all morning.
“Not for a wedding,” Chloe retorted with a side-eye glare that could part the Red Sea. “Although Macy would probably make raccoon eyes at her wedding look amazing.”
My phone vibrated with another text from the groom.
Lucas: I know, baby. But I need to give you something.
Per usual, my cock-struck ass had its mind in the gutter.
Me:Mr. Stone, you’ll have the whole night to give me…something.
“Macy…” Chloe scolded, brandishing the mascara wand around my face like a sword. “Be. Still.”
Another text came in, and I held my phone up to read the message.
Lucas:I’m happy I get to marry a sex kitten in twenty minutes. But, seriously. I need to give you something. It’s to go with your ‘something old’.
I’d waited forever to marry this man; do you think I was about to mess with luck and forfeit traditional wedding rules?
Uh, no.
It was bad enough we almost had to postpone our nuptials, afraid we wouldn’t be able to plan an elaborate three-hundred-fifty guest wedding in less than a month. Yet, thankfully, neither one of us cancelled the venue, and Kat Agassi—my new boss—had a long list of contacts we were able to call on.
“I’ll send Sage out instead.”
Hobbling like a warthog, my extremely pregnant best friend made her way out to the hallway while Chloe finished applying my mascara.
“Swear to God, if only I had a needle to pop her, then that baby will probably fly right out of her,” Chloe whispered.
“Just so long as no baby flies out of her today.”
Chloe laughed. “Instead of tossing the bouquet…”
Sage waddled back, plopping onto the couch breathless. “I can hear you, Chloe. Your so-calledwhisperscan wake the mother humping dead.” She was back on her cleanse, once again using partial placeholders after having fallen off the potty-mouth wagon more than enough times.
Hand extended, I asked Sage to give me the small envelope she was now fanning herself with. “Isn’t that what Lucas wanted you to give me?”
“Sorry,” she huffed, motioning for Chloe to retrieve it. “I’m losing my mind with the baby and all these F-word Braxton Hicks contractions.”
“Which is why Lucas and I told you and AJ it would be just fine if you had decided to stay home today.”
As I opened the envelope Chloe passed me, a silver necklace fell out and onto my lap.
A small gasp escaped my lips, mesmerized by the jewelry shimmering in the light as it dangled on my finger.
“What’s that?” Sage asked, applying blush to her naturally defined cheekbones.
Shrugging, I said, “Not sure,” palming the beautiful pendant, the shape of a broken heart, to read its inscription, which at closer glance said,Lucas.
Baffled, I was about to ring Lucas, but he beat me to it, prompting me to answer on the first ring.
“Hey,” I began, “you’re giving me a broken-heart pendant on our wedding day?”
He laughed. “No, baby. It’s a necklace I planned to give you for your thirteenth birthday.”
