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Perrin emerged from the stall and silently washed her hands, her eyes peeking through her lashes as Mariella struggled with her dress. “Do you need help?”
Giving up, Mariella sighed. “My maid of honor abandoned me for a French pancake.”
Perrin laughed. “Let me see.”
She inspected the back of Mariella’s gown and carefully detached the lace.
“Your dress is gorgeous.”
“Thank you. It was my Nona’s. Well, most of it. She weighed like eighty pounds when she got married.” And why was she telling her this?
Perrin smiled. “Women were so thin back then.”
“Tell me about it.”
A strange silence seemed to wedge right between their words as they awkwardly ran out of things to say. Realizing it might be her only chance to set things straight, Mariella blurted, “I’m so sorry about everything that happened between us and Bran.”
Perrin’s eyes widened in startled relief. “Oh, please. I think we both dodged a bullet there.”
“But I never would have gotten involved with him had I known he was a two-timer. I just…want you to know that.”
“I…” Perrin awkwardly shifted and looked down at her wedding ring. “Bran was a jerk. He played us both.”
Mariella nodded. “And now you have Gage.”
It took some time for Mariella to realize much of her and Perrin’s issues stemmed from assumptions. She’d always assumed Perrin would think the worst of her, so she repeated that narrative in her head as a form of penance, which only enhanced her guilt.
Turned out, Perrin only ever said nice things about Mariella whenever she spoke to her relatives or the staff at the hotel. Her misjudgment of the situation just went to show how much harder people were on themselves.
A smile stole over Perrin’s face, wide and genuine. “And now you have Harrison.”
“Yes, I have Harrison.” Life was perfect.
When someone knocked on the door, they both turned. A masculine hand curved around the wood, Harrison’s wedding band showing on his ring finger. “I’m looking for my wife.”
“I have to get back,” Perrin said, tossing her paper towel in the trash. “Congratulations.”
When she opened the door to leave, Harrison scoped out the empty bathroom and slipped inside. “Everything all right?”
“You’re always meeting me in ladies rooms.”
He closed the distance, his hands falling to her hips as his mouth pressed to her throat. “Have I told you how amazing you look in this gown.”
His nose nuzzled her ear and she shivered. She was wearing the earrings he bought her.
“How many hours until we can officially begin the honeymoon?”
She wasn’t wearing a watch and hadn’t set eyes on her phone all day. Everyone she knew was on the other side of that door. “We haven’t even cut the cake yet so you better cool your jets.”
“I’ll tell Mauricio to hurry things along.”
Mariella had wanted a big, traditional wedding, so the hotel made sense for the reception. Plus she got a killer discount on everything from the flowers to the DJ because she worked with the vendors regularly.
Mauricio coordinated every detail, which could have been weird if not for Sophia, his beautiful Polynesian girlfriend he picked up in the Virgin Islands. If Mariella had gone with him, they never would have met so they all agreed everything happened for a reason. And after months of living at the hotel and getting acquainted with the staff, Harrison finally let his jealousy of the other man go.
Sort of. Every now and then he could get territorial over dumb things, but Mariella loved that side of her husband. She loved knowing she could drive him mad with a flick of her lashes. Loved knowing how a little jealousy could lead to incredibly possessive sex that always affirmed how much he needed her.
Their relationship had always been an intense and somewhat private affair, one most people didn’t know existed. But Harrison never intentionally hid his feelings. Most days he struggled to contain them, not fully understanding how he could feel anything so deeply for someone else.
He and his sister had made incredible strides. Harrison helped Erin all the time, and no one was surprised when he asked Giovanni to be his best man.
Mariella’s family adopted the Montgomerys as their own, and while they didn’t always know what happened at holidays or why certain traditions held meaning, they were learning and enchanted every step of the way.
“Do you think we have time for a quickie?”
“Are you kidding? It takes twenty minutes just to get the bustle adjusted on this dress.”
“Damn.” He kissed her lips and stepped back. “I guess that’s okay. The DJ sent me to find you anyway. It’s time for the father-daughter dance.”
A bolt of excitement shot through her, and she rushed out the door. When her father had been in the hospital earlier that year, she worried she might never have the chance to dance with him at her wedding or tell him how much his love and guidance meant to her all these years.
