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“This is a guessing game,” she explains, “where you have to decide who is the more likely person in the couple to do the thing listed. Fill your answers out, and then the person who guesses the most right wins a prize.”
“What’s the prize?” Max asks, her hazel eyes dancing.
“You win a pie! Made specially for you by the bride-to-be.”
A ripple of ohs and ahs fills the room, making me blush. In truth, I had a lot of help from Starla, who came yesterday to help me with all the baking. But I do know that the pies are delicious and definitely a worthy prize.
Everyone settles in, finding a seat and surface to write on as they get to work. Starla and I hand out drinks in the meantime, snickering as we glance at some people’s answers. With twenty women in the small space, the living room and dining area are filled to capacity. It’s fun to see my house so full of people I love and who clearly love me enough to have driven hours to see me.
It warms my heart to feel like I have such a wonderful family. Before I met Gabe, I had no one. Even when my father and brother were alive, I couldn’t consider us close. I was more a bargaining tool my father could sell off as a valuable bride to raise his status in society. Even my supposed friend back then, Eleanor Blackwood, was nothing more than a surface-level acquaintance I hung out with because she had a good name and enough money to go with me on shopping sprees.
This new life and family are so different from what I knew before, and I find myself thinking about and missing my old life less and less each day. Now, if I were given the opportunity, I’m sure I would pick this modest way of living over my over-indulgent past existence any day.
Even the new friends I’ve made since leaving Blackmoor fit well with this new way of life. Mallory is chic and sassy, certainly, but she’s more entrepreneur than fashion queen. When it comes down to it, she is a hard-working businesswoman whose drive in life is astounding.
“All right, ladies, pass in those papers, and I’ll see who’s won. Remember to put your name at the top. If you don’t have a name on it, you can’t win the prize!” Starla says.
After handing in their papers, people head to the kitchen to fill up a plate with snacks. Spontaneous conversation fills the room as we wait for Starla to tally the votes.
“What a sweet house you’ve put together,” Jada, Max’s younger sister, says, standing next to me as she sips her chardonnay. Her blonde pixie cut is as cute as always, curling around her face and giving her a youthful appearance.
“Thank you.” I beam, happy with what we’ve done to make the space ours.
“We miss you down in Blackmoor, but it looks like you’ve made a wonderful new life here.”
My heart squeezes at her kind words. I miss the girls down in Blackmoor. It’s not quite the same with Gabriel’s new club. So many of the guys are single, and they’ve only just started hanging out at the clubhouse, bringing the few wives around for me to meet. It’s not an established family that welcomed me like the Devil’s Sons in Blackmoor.
“I miss you all too,” I confess. “But I am happy here.”
“Okay, ladies. Scores are in, and it looks like Mallory has won the first pie!”
Shock registers on Mallory’s face, but it makes me smile. She and I have spent so many hours together over the past weeks that I’m not the least bit surprised. We talk a lot when the shop’s quiet, and I definitely see her as a special person in my life.
Polite applause follows, even as Max grumbles that she better win a pie for something today. Her grousing is playful, though, as a cheeky smile graces her lips. Jada laughs, her dimples popping.
We continue with the games, which proceed to get lewder as the day goes on, transitioning us from what might have started as a bridal party into something closer to my bachelorette party.
After breaking into the cake, it’s time to open presents, and I’m seated on the fireplace hearth, surrounded by boxes and bags of all shapes and sizes. Everyone gathers to stare at me with anticipation, some giggling girlishly as they whisper. It’s then that I note the two distinct piles the gifts have been separated into, and I look to Starla for guidance.
“Start on that side,” she indicates as she plops down beside me with a pen and paper in hand, ready to record who got me what.
The first large gift bag contains throw pillows that will go perfectly on the living room couch. I thank Jenna sincerely before setting them aside to move on to my next gift. It’s a waffle maker from Debbie. Always the cook, she knows just the appliances to give that will make my time in the kitchen more enjoyable and fun.
“Thank you, Debbie,” I say, pulling her in for a hug.
“Of course,” she says gruffly, giving my back a warm pat.
Each of the gifts from this pile is something to fill our new home in Whitfield. They even give me a tiny ring holder in the shape of an elephant that can hold my engagement ring when I need to take it off.
“Okay, now this pile,” Starla insists without a moment to lose as soon as I unwrap the last of the presents from the first pile.
My eyebrow raises as I shift over to the second pile, sensing that something is afoot when the giggles start once more. As soon as I peer into the first gift bag, I know why. Slowly taking the fabric between my fingers, I raise the sexy lingerie from out of the wrapping and display it to the group before me. A combination of laughter and catcalls fills the air, making me laugh even as my cheeks start to burn.
“Really, girls?” I ask.
“What?” Jada asks innocently and takes a sip of her water using the penis straw. “This is a bachelorette party.”
I shake my head, unable to stop smiling as I turn my attention back to the pile of gifts, and I realize that one stack had been my bridal party gifts. The rest of these are surely naughty gifts like the lingerie. Fortifying myself and the embarrassment that’s sure to come, I dig into the second pile. Fifteen minutes later, all my gifts are finally unwrapped, and I’m surrounded by shredded wrapping paper and sex toys and lacy panties of all varieties.
