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Chapter 23
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The next day, Heath did his best to balance the cup of tea and the little china plate holding some sort of fancy triangle-cut sandwiches on his lap. He shifted, and the purple velvet settee groaned and creaked under his weight.
Wedding dress shopping had been his idea, but as he sat on the fragile, little, ass-numbing chair in Wedding Belle’s Bridal Shop, his heart wasn’t in wedding dress shopping.
Knowing that he’d hurt Lyric all those years ago made him physically ill. He put a hand to his churning stomach. Finding out that he was never going to play football again hadn’t made him feel this bad. He’d spent the last few days falling in love with Lyric—or, more to the point, realizing he had always been in love with her—and all she’d been doing was trying to put the bad memories of their last encounter behind her.
How had he ever confused the two sisters? Lyric and Harmony were nothing alike. Lyric was sweet where Harmony was suspicious. She was funny where her sister was dour. She was soft and squishy and kind where Harmony was hard as a fucking rock.
He had to fix it … needed to make it better, but how?
Now he was wedding dress shopping with Harmony. If he weren’t too busy kicking his own ass, he’d take a moment to appreciate the irony.
Lyric was at home working, but she’d be here soon enough. He just hoped he’d be able to look her in the eye when she finally showed up.
He shifted again, trying to get comfortable. This “settee,” as the elderly owner of Wedding Belle’s had called it, had to have been used as a torture device during the Spanish Inquisition. Maybe if they traded in this rickety chair and got a couple of BarcaLoungers and a big-screen TV, more men would wedding dress shop.
Everything in this store was fragile and dainty. This must have been how G.I. Joe felt when he visited the Barbie mansion … everything was too small and breakable.
Carefully, he set the fragile floral teacup on the tiny round table next to the settee. He did his best to fit the sandwich plate next to the cup, but the edge of the plate hung off the table. Talk about feeling like a bull in a china shop … this store didn’t sell china, but he was fairly certain he was going to break something before he left today.
His knee twinged as he eased to his feet, but it supported his weight without a problem, which meant it was getting better. The ankle-to-thigh brace gave him lots of support, but it didn’t help with the pain.
He grinned and bore it as he walked over to where Harmony was flipping through bridesmaid’s dresses while Livinia and Gregor talked animatedly with the salesclerk.
When he’d suggested this little shopping trip, he’d thought it would give him something to do. He hadn’t counted on the soul-sucking boredom or all of this white. This whole place was floor-to-ceiling white. The only color was the rack of bridesmaid’s dresses. He wondered if this was what people in mental hospitals felt like. Because he’d always considered himself fairly sane, but this much prolonged exposure to this much white was making even him twitchy.
Maybe if he downloaded more games on his smartphone … But when he pulled it out, he saw notifications of five new texts from Dalton Mane, the Wranglers’ general manager, and two from his agent. He didn’t look at any of them and instead checked for an Internet signal that didn’t seem to exist in this wedding dress vortex. Damn it. He couldn’t even download the newest version of Candy Crush, and he’d really been looking forward to that game. What the hell was he supposed to do now?
He wandered over to the nearest rack of wedding dresses. The first dress had lots of white feathers and reminded him of an albino Big Bird so he moved that one aside and checked out the next one. It was really short in the front, but had a weirdly long back.
Wasn’t that called a train? Which seemed like a stupid name for it since in this dress Lyric’s caboose would be completely lost. That would be a damn shame, considering how much he liked her caboose.
The next dress he picked up was too fluffy, the one after that too lacy, the one after that too rhinestone-y. Didn’t they have any normal-looking wedding dresses? Ones that wouldn’t turn the bride into a cross between Dolly Parton and Nicki Minaj?
> “I don’t think any of those will fit you, but knock yourself out.” Harmony checked out albino Big Bird. “Who would wear this?”
“Maybe this is the rack they reserved for the school for the blind.” Heath looked around for a sign stating that, but all he saw was glaringly white walls. “Texture is really important if you can’t see.” He was almost certain that he’d read that somewhere.
“Why are you even here?” Harmony flipped to the next dress.
“Why are any of us even here? Did God create the world in six days, or did we evolve from a tree shrew? What’s the meaning of life?” He was good at being a pain in the ass, and he played to his strengths.
Harmony sighed deep and long. “Just when I start to think of you as somewhat of a nice guy, you open your mouth and I remember why I hate you.”
“Careful, hate is such a strong word.” He mimicked her long sigh. “You might hurt my tender feelings. Besides, we’re about to be family.”
“Oh God.” Harmony flipped to the next dress. “You’re the older brother that I never knew I didn’t want.”
“Thank you.” He bowed to her. “That makes me feel so good.”
Heath flipped to the next dress. It was a darker, creamy-white, strapless gown made of some kind of silky fabric. There were little bits of lace here and there, but other than that, it seemed completely normal. He pulled it out and held it up for Harmony to see. “What do you think about this one?”
The dress was heavier than it looked—it had to weigh twice what his protective gear did.
“It’s a terrible color for you.” One corner of Harmony’s mouth turned up. “And the neckline is a little revealing.”
