I rush back to my room to get ready. Logan told me he’d find Jo and tell her to continue pictures without me. At this rate, I’ll just make the wedding on time.
Chapter 20: Logan
“What the fuck are you playing at?” I ask Pearl. I’d been standing outside the room, watching her smile beside Jo and the other bridesmaids, getting their pictures done, looking picturesque and perfect. The groomsmen weren’t needed until after the ceremony, a brief photoshoot before the reception.
Pearl had framed it as a numbers thing when she brought it up—her dad needed one more groomsman to balance out the bridesmaids. I wouldn’t have to do much, she’d said. Just the photos at the end.
Pearl was so accommodating. She always is, with me.
Just not, apparently, with her sister.
“What are you talking about?” she asks, shocked. I nod toward the hall, and she follows me.
“Rose’s bridesmaid dress. It doesn’t fit.”
Pearl rolls her eyes. “Well, she’s definitely put on a few since the last time I saw her.”
Defensive not only of Rose but of her perfect fucking curves, I snap, “It wasn’t even close to fitting. You did that on purpose.”
Something moves across her face—subtle at first, a small wobble of her lip, her chin tilting up just slightly.
I know this look. In the past, I’d have pulled her in already, asked what was wrong.
This time, I do not.
Her shoulders drop. “Apparently, all it took was a few days for my dear sister to turn you against me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“She always does this.” Pearl’s voice drops, goes quiet and cold. “She did it with Dad when we were younger. Now you.” She laughs once, a short, ugly sound. “Rosaria. So special, smart, and independent, so sweet and different from everyone else—and everyone just falls for her. Every time.” She looks at me, and for a moment something dark passes through her expression before she closes it off. “I didn’t think she’d get to you, too.”
“Pearl,whatare you talking about?”
“Did you fuck her?”
I scrub my hand down my face. “Jesus Christ. What is your deal with your sister?”
“I am not the bad guy here. I’m sorry her dress doesn’t fit. But she didn’t even bother to try it on, that’s not exactly on me.”
Like Rose said, and it isn’t exactly untrue.
The bridal party moves past us, Harlow slowing, eyeing us both. “Ceremony’s about to start.”
Pearl’s face opens into a wide smile. “Excellent. Shall we?”
Harlow nods, watching me before turning and following Pearl. We make our way to a small back room outside the atrium—emerald green dresses, Jo in her off-white flowing gown, Roger at her side. They’d decided to walk down the aisle together, bucking against tradition, despite the full wedding party.
Pearl lines everyone up. Then a flash of red catches my eye, and I turn. Nearly swallow my tongue.
Her hair falls past her shoulders in loose waves, brows and lashes dark against chestnut eyes, lips painted the same red asher dress, making my dick twitch. The open neckline dips low, drawing my eyes down to her generous cleavage. My mouth waters as I trail the way her dress clings to every curve, a slit running up one thigh. Unreal.
“What are you wearing?” Pearl hisses.
At first, Rose seemed to walk in slow motion. Confident, strong, chin up. Now, her shoulders drop an inch.
Jo steps forward, brows turned up. “Sweetie, where’s your bridesmaid dress?”
“It didn’t fit,” Rose says, and I can hear the effort it takes to say it plainly, without apology. I can see the self-consciousness pick away at her, and I want to sweep her up into my arms. I want to tell her she’s perfect. That I want to titty fuck her, hold those curves like handles while I slam into her from behind. But I can’t say that to her in front of her future stepmother.
