AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Moving my attention back to the mirror, I finish applying my makeup. I didn’t want to glam team. I don’t need anyone to witness my oscillating emotions. Esme pops in, her light brown eyes are as big as her heart. We are similar in shading and she’s just an inch under my five-eight stature but I look more like our dad and she our mother, our baby sister is a good mixture of both.
She wraps her arms around my almost bare shoulders and gives me the squeezes I needed. I feel a little better and want to cry again at the same time. She helps me secure my pearl choker in place as she gives me her version of a pep talk.
“I hate that you have to get married but at least he’s some grumpy man candy. If he is abusive, just call and give me a code like Autobots Unite and we’ll kill him together.”
I laugh at the odd reassurance. But Esme curls bounce when she nods.
“I’m serious. We’ll fuck him up and I’ve watched enough real murder shows to land him on Unsolved Mysteries. Just. Say. The. Word.”
“I see you’ve been at the Bishops again,” I tease.
She punches her fist. “They needed more muscle since you’ve been running around with Markos all week.”
“And how do you know?”
She blushes and shrugs. “I may have texted him to see what he was doing.”
“No, ma’am,” is all I say when someone knocks on my door.
There aren’t many people who’ll be allowed in the room since I’m not wearing anything but the lingerie to go under my dress. I love the way the La Perla set feels on my body. My Ambra balconette bra, which is a bronze color and looks like a soft orange shade on my skin - will need to come off once it’s time to pull on my dress with the sweetheart bodice. My matching panties are Brazilian cut since I’m not fond of thongs and don’t want a full brief. Pulling my suspender belt in place and securing my champagne thigh-high stockings in place, I call out.
“Who is it?”
“It’s me.” Oran’s voice washes me in trepidation, hope, and desire.
Esme peeks out of the door. “It’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding.”
I hear Oran snort before he responds. “Does that count for arranged marriages?”
“Fuck if I know,” Esme retorts. “It’s just something they say.”
“Is she already dressed?”
“No.”
“Is the dress visible?”
“Well, no.”
“Well, move then, Sprite. You’re burning daylight.”
Esme gasps but sadly, I realize I’m becoming accustomed to Oran’s abrasive behavior when I crack a smile at his antics with my sister.
“I’m glad y’all are getting married today because Superman needs to get laid,” she tells me as she low-key elbows him in the side on the way out.
“You must be so proud,” he tells me with a smirk. “She’s feisty.”
We both sober when we realize we’re smiling at each other through the mirror.
“I thought you were running and in another country by now,” I joke.
Adjusting my pearls hides the slight tremble of my hand. He’s studying me, but I don’t know why.
“I got you something.”
His statement pulls my attention to his hand, but it’s empty. Oran steps behind me, his touch is delicate, sending shivers down my body, as he removes my pearls.
“It’s a LeClaire tradition for the bride to wear pearls on her wedding day.”
