Page 93

I’m in awe of her dress. Never did I think she could pull off a black wedding dress, but it’s breathtaking. Reminiscent of a Victorian wedding dress, it flows continuously until it meets her black velvet heels.
Underneath all the dress and hair, Scarlet is emotional, scared, and glowing. Pregnancy looks amazing on her, but I don’t think she ever thought the day would be like this.
“I just want a beer,” she tells us, staring at herself in the mirror. “And look at my fucking hair!”
“It’s kinda hard not to.” Mila snorts, attempting to calm Scarlet’s wild curls. She made the horrible mistake of running a brush through it and now it’s similar to what she looked like when Tiller had her turn on the light switch after he attempted to rewire the dishwasher.
The bride glowers at her maid of honor. “Fix it, Mila!”
While her maid of honor attempts to make something of her hair, I look around the intimate details of the Carondelet House in LA. Built in 1928 as an Italian Villa, its architectural detail, warm hardwood floors and exposed brick walls amplify the theatrical, medieval dark décor. It’s stunning. With coffin wedding favors, skull-shaped shot glasses, it perfectly combines moodiness and classic vintage, but reminds me of something out of a Tim Burton movie.
Minutes before we’re set to make our way to the main room, Scarlet smashes her berry-colored lips together, catching sight of Roan and Tiller standing next to the trailing vines of the arbor that create a mysterious magical effect for their vows. I sneak a peek too, wanting to see Roan in his suit. It’s a classic black-on-black suit and it’s everything I can do to not run out there and jump him.
Scarlet huffs out a breath, throwing her hands up in the air. “I’m going to look boring next to him. He’s beautiful. I’m frizzy.”
Mila gives her a sarcastic expression and then turns to Izzy who I’m gathering is another one of her friends from Seattle. “It’s like she has no faith in our abilities.”
Amberly turns to me, River on her lap staring angrily at her black dress. She’s the flower girl and looking like she’s going to burn her dress rather than walk down the aisle. “How long into the ceremony do you think Tiller says something wildly inappropriate the moment he sees her and sets her off?”
I smile, smoothing out my tea-length deep purple dress with lace sleeves and fifties-style skater skirt. “I give it five minutes. You know he’s going to piss her off at some point.”
“Truth.”
There’s a throat clearing at the door. We all turn toward the sound and notice Ricky standing in the doorway with his hands buried in his pockets. “Damn, Northwest. If Shade doesn’t go through with it, I’ll marry ya.”
While I’m sure he meant for his words to be a compliment, a four-month pregnant hormonal bride doesn’t take it that way. “What?” she gasps, both her hands flying to her mouth. “He doesn’t want to marry me?”
Ricky’s eyes go wide. “No, no, no. I didn’t say that at all. He’s drunk, but I never said he didn’t want to marry you.”
Tears stream down her face. “Why is he drunk?”
Willa slaps Ricky’s shoulder, rolling her eyes. “Because he’s nervous,” Ricky admits, as if he wished he hadn’t said anything at all. Berlin rushes to his side, hugging his legs. Reaching down, he picks her up and holds her to his chest. “He’s not nervous about marrying you, just the idea of it.”
“Ricky!” Willa gasps. “Just stop talking. You’re making it worse.”
Nodding, he hands Berlin off and makes his way over to Scarlet, her full lashes downcast on her hands. “He wants to make you his wife. Without a doubt.” Ricky lowers his voice. “And I’d love nothing more than to walk you down the aisle.”
And she bursts into tears. As if we expected anything less.
Scarlet’s parents aren’t around. Her mom is apparently a gypsy, moving from town to town and cock to cock as she puts it. And her dad left before she was born. Getting married scared her because other than her friends Mila, Izzy, and some guy named Tom who’d hit on all the bridesmaids so far, she has no family. No one to walk her down the aisle.
But the Sawyer family, they have a way of welcoming you in the most unconventional ways. Family isn’t always blood. I’m living proof of that. It’s the people in your life who want to be part of yours. It’s the ones who rescue you and raise you as their own. The ones who accept you for who you are, even if that means loving the wrong boy. The ones who sneak you out of your prom or destroy your wedding on their dirt bikes to prove a point. The loyal ones, willing to take the blame rather than destroying a bond.
It’s the ones willing to hold your hand when you need it the most.
And I couldn’t wait for the day I tied myself to this family in every way. Maybe even moving in with Roan.
Shhh. Don’t tell him yet. I’m kind of enjoying the begging.
“It’s time,” Willa says, smiling tenderly at us.
Her hands sweep over Tiller’s chest, straightening his tie. “You clean up well.”
“Puh-lease, Willz.” Tiller pops the collar of his black dress shirt. “I always look this good.”
I look over at Shade in the corner of the room next to a fireplace, his hands on the mantle, his head dipped forward. Shaking my head, I sigh. “Ya ready, bud?” I ask, pressing my hand into his back.
He shakes his head, breathing heavily. By the way, he’s drunk. Completely shitfaced. I made the mistake of giving him a bottle of Jägermeister and well, Camden gave him a Red Bull and the rest is history. I just hope we can get him down the aisle before anyone notices his lack of sobriety.