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I watch as Angie’s throat works, and I sense that she might cry. I look at her mom, who is watching her, worry apparent on her face, and her sister, who is on her phone, bored. I’m not entirely sure what to do, but I just follow my instincts. “Can I have a moment with her?”

Her mom’s eyes widen, and her sister gets up and leaves without a word. I’m not sure how I feel about Charlotte, but she is a teenager. I’m told they’re no fun. Mrs. Paxton looks between us. “Angie, can I do anything, honey? You know the carriage will be ready in fifteen.”

Angie closes her eyes, and when she doesn’t answer, I look back at Mrs. Paxton. “She’ll be ready.”

I don’t even believe that, but Mrs. Paxton leaves the room then. Hesitantly, but she goes, nonetheless. I get up, fixing my suit before buttoning the jacket and going to my girl. I stand beside her, crossing my arms over my chest as I take in all the dresses.

I side-eye Angie, and damn, if she isn’t stunning. Her makeup is done in a dramatic yet ethereal way. Her skin shimmers, even though she looks as if she may break out in tears at any moment. Her lips are glossy with only a tiny bit of color on them. Her hair is in an intricate updo that has braids and twists throughout it. Tendrils fall along her face, reminding me of Tennessee from the bar. I can’t think of her right now, though, not when my girl needs me.

“Alrighty, Angie, what we thinking?”

She shrugs, gazing at each one. “That I should just call Owen and tell him I can’t do this. That we should just cancel the whole thing, and we can head to the airport, get an earlier flight.”

I grin. “I thought you were getting cold feet for a second there.”

She shakes her head. “Never. I want nothing more than to be married to Owen.”

“Okay, so why are you stalling?”

She doesn’t answer me at first. “Because I don’t want to embarrass him,” she admits, her teeth coming down onto her bottom lip to stop it from quivering. “My body doesn’t look good enough for any of these dresses, for him.”

Oh, the rage that stirs in my chest is real. “Tell me something—”

“I’d rather not.”

“I know, but humor me,” I say, turning to look at her. She looks up at me, her sweet eyes shining with unshed tears. “Has Owen ever made you feel embarrassed by your body?”

She doesn’t look away. “You know that answer, Dart.”

“Exactly. I do. As do you,” I remind her. “So, why in the fuck would you think you’re going to embarrass him today? I’m pretty sure you could walk down that aisle butt-fucking-naked, and he’d be all kinds of things—but not even a bit embarrassed.”

She swallows hard.

“It’d be a surefire way to get the wedding canceled, for real. He wouldn’t be able to resist taking you on whatever surface he could find,” I add with a wink, and that has her grinning from ear to ear. “He loves you, Angie. All of you.”

She nods slowly. “I know, but…” Her voice trails off, and I wrap my arm around her shoulders. She cuddles into my side as she looks up at me. “I want to feel beautiful.”

“Girl, feel it, because you are,” I insist, cupping her jaw. “You’ve got four dresses, Ang. Each one looks fantastic on you and will leave everyone in the hall breathless at your beauty.”

“You said I looked like a busted version of Ariel in that one dress,” she says dryly, and I nod.

I reach for the dress, throwing it to the side. “Yeah, I hate that one. So, three.” Her grin returns, and I squeeze her to me. “Wanna know my favorite?”

“Sure…”

I point to the one that hugs her curves and falls along her legs like butter. It has a sexy-ass slit that goes to the top of her thigh. The corset bodice is covered in crystals and glitter, and one strap drapes over her arm in a truly goddess-looking way. It’s actually the dress that I had helped pick out. She fought me on the slit, but I told her she’d be jaw-dropping in it. “I chose it for a reason.”

She swallows hard and then reaches for the dress. “Okay.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I’ve got to do this. And since I know you and Owen think about the same, if you think I’ll look good in it, maybe I will.”

I hold her gaze. “You will, Ang. Honestly.”

She gives me a small smile before she turns to gather the dress in her hand.

I let my head fall back, silently thanking the good Lord above as she heads to the dressing room.

Before she goes in, she looks back at me. “Thanks for choosing me over getting laid.”

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