“This way,” I tell her as I walk them to Aubrey who’s munching away on snacks in the kitchen and chatting with Antoine about dinner.
When she sees me walk into the room with three extra bodies, her curious eyes roam over us. “What’s going on, Shane?”
I walk over to her, wrapping my arm around her waist. “Remember when I told you not to worry about your wedding dress? That I had it under control and you didn’t need to keep looking?”
“Yes…” she answers skeptically.
I move around to her back, pressing her into my chest with my hands over her bump. “This here is Libby, she’s going to make you a wedding dress, exactly how you want it.”
Her eyes widen as they fill with tears. “Really?” The tip of her nose turns red as her cheeks flush.
“Yes, Angel. I knew how much this was making you anxious and I didn’t want you to worry anymore. You’ll have to thank Hailey, though, because it’s thanks to her Libby could do this for us.” I kiss her cheek where a single tear slips free.
“Oh, Shane. Thank you.” She turns in my arms and hugs me.
“Now go with Libby and tell her everything you want.” I give her a small push on the back when she releases me, andshe wanders off into the sitting room with Libby and her two associates.
AUBREY
After two hours of working with Libby and her two helpers, Jennifer and Isabelle, we say goodbye with promises to have my dress ready in three weeks. It didn’t take long for Libby to see my vision of the perfect dress. I could tell she was used to working with high-end divas who wanted extreme wedding dresses. She had even brought a few samples with her to give me an idea of what I’d prefer.
But after her associates put me into the third dress, she told them to stop, sat me down, and said she could see that this wasn’t working. She took both my hands in hers, told me to breathe and then asked me to describe what I had in mind.
The problem was I didn’t have a picture in mind of the ideal dress, I just knew it wasn’t anything I was coming across.
When I told her that, she tried a different tactic and asked me about myself. What kind of person I was and even went through pictures of me on the internet. After a few minutes of scrolling, she put her phone down, smiled, and told me she knew the perfect dress.
She then had Jennifer hand over her sketchbook and proceeded to draw out my dress. Thirty minutes later, sheflipped her sketch over and showed me what she came up with. And it was there, on paper, the perfect dress.
My dress.
We then carried on by choosing the desired color—I stuck with white. What material I wanted to use, if I wanted designs or details on the dress, a train, what kind of neckline, and more things. I was exhausted by the time we were finished, but also extremely excited to see the finished product.
I make my way to the kitchen, where I can smell something delicious cooking, while looking for my fiancé. The last time I saw him was an hour ago when he came by the sitting room to bring me some fruits and collect Cupcake for her walk with Annabeth.
I find Shane with his back to me as he stands in front of the gas stove, stirring something in a pan while moving his hips along to the soft blues playing on the surround sound. All four pups are lying at his feet, except for one that’s trotting along with me. I take a few steps closer, hypnotized by him.
I can’t believe this man will be my husband in just four weeks.
He suddenly looks over his shoulder, sensing my presence, and smiles. “Angel,” he simply says, placing down the wooden spoon to the side and turning to face me with his arms out. “Did you find the dress?”
I bite my lip and nod, a small blush forming on my cheeks as I step into his arms.
He nuzzles my neck, inhaling me, then kisses the sensitive skin near my ear. “You’re going to be so beautiful in it.”
“You haven’t even seen it.” I giggle.
“You’re beautiful in everything,” he replies instantly, then captures my chin with his thumb and finger, tilting my head back and pressing his lips to mine.
“What are you cooking?” I try to look over his shoulder and notice the little note with instructions beside the stove. “Orshould I say, what has Antoine instructed you to cook?” I look back at Shane, smiling knowingly.
“Do you remember our first date?” he asks as his arms come back to my waist.
“You mean when you brought me home for the first time?” I bring my hands up to his nape. “How could I forget?” I whisper.
“I thought we could do it over again.” He grins. “With a little twist at the end and no sex interrupting our romantic dinner planned.”
“But that was the best part.” I pout jokingly.
