Page 16 of Moonlight & Matrimony (Oak Ridge #2)

Ivy

? Like Real People Do - Hozier

T he engine cuts off as I pull up outside of Wisteria Bridal with Paige snuggly tucked into my passenger seat, the belt barely able to reach around her protruding bump. I didn’t bother getting dressed up for this excursion, leaving my face bare and my hair twisted in a clip at the back of my head.

Unbuckling my seatbelt, I glance at Paige. “Stay right there. I’ll come around and help you out.”

“You’re worse than Cade,” she says with an exaggerated eye roll.

“Somehow I doubt that, hun.”

“You’re right. He’s been such a clinger lately. I’m surprised he’s not hiding around a corner right now,” she says.

“He knows you’re in good hands, and we’re only a text message away.” I give her hand a squeeze before exiting the driver’s side. Stopping in front of my SUV, I notice a familiar red car parked a few feet away. It couldn’t be, could it?

What would Austin be doing in Willow Valley? I shake myself out of my thoughts and by the time I glance up again, the car is gone. Stop it, Ivy. You’re being paranoid.

When I get to Paige’s door, there’s a scowl on her face. “It’s hot as fuck in here. You aren’t supposed to leave your friends in hot vehicles, Ivy,” she jokes.

“That’s the rule for pets, and you were only in there for 90 seconds at most.”

“90 seconds in the Kentucky heat while I’m the size of a whale is tantamount to torture.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Let’s get you out of there, Shamu.”

Paige gasps and clutches her chest. “That felt very fat-phobic.”

“Hey, you’re the one who said you were the size of a whale!”

She laughs and takes both of my hands, allowing me to help her slowly slide to the edge of the seat so she can carefully place her feet onto solid ground.

“Ok. Let’s get the future Mrs. Roberts a dress! OH MY GOD,” Paige shrieks, stopping in her tracks just outside the door to the boutique.

I momentarily panic at her sudden declaration, placing my hands on her round belly. “What? Is the baby ok?”

“My bad. She’s fine. I just realized you’re going to be my sister!”

“Jesus, Paige. You scared the shit out of me.”

“Oops. Ok, let’s get in there and find you a dress.”

The bell chimes above the door when we enter the quaint boutique with all of its pastel pink bohemian charm. I beeline for the clearance section, resolved to choose something simple within my paltry budget.

“You. Sit.” I point to the settee near the checkout counter. “I promised your husband you’d stay off your feet.”

“You’re the worst,” she teases.

“Love you too, hun.”

I make my way over to one of the sales racks and start scanning through the garments as one of the bridal consultants approaches. “Hi there. Welcome to Wisteria Bridal. Can I help you with anything?”

“Oh, that’s ok. I’m just looking for something simple.”

Before I can dismiss the woman, Paige chimes in from the peanut gallery. “She’s eloping with my brother today!”

“Congratulations! Just let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.”

I tilt my lips into a faint smile. “Thanks.”

As reality sets in, anxiety tightens my stomach into knots.

This is insane, right? How can I possibly consider going through with this after everything I went through with Austin?

But Luca is not Austin, and I have to remind myself of that.

Luca has shown me over and over in every possible way, he’s nothing like my ex husband.

I inhale a steadying breath in an attempt to calm my racing heart, sliding the hangers across the rack.

There are several simple A-line styles, a couple of chiffon bridesmaid dresses in muted tones, and one absolutely stunning floral gown that speaks to my soul — but it’s far too special for this sham wedding.

“Ivy?” Cara’s voice snaps me out of my anxiety spiral, and I manage to tamp down the rising sense of unease.

Cara is casually gorgeous with her long red hair cascading down her back, her ample curves on full display in a pair of figure hugging jeans and a cropped tee.

I want to be her when I grow up; Dean is a lucky man.

“When did you get here?”

“Just a second ago. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Just nerves.” I grab several dresses off the rack, not even bothering to give them a thorough glance. “Let’s head over to the dressing room.”

I don’t get far before Cara grabs me by the shoulders and stops me in my tracks. “Slow down. Let’s get a better look at your options, okay? We don’t have to rush into picking a dress. We have hours before you have to be at the salon.”

“Salon?”

“Surprise. We made an appointment for a little pampering.”

“You didn’t have to do that. I can do my own hair and makeup.”

“Honestly, this was more for me than you,” Paige snorts. “I can’t even see my toes anymore.”

Resigned to the will of my best friends, I help Cara sort through more of my dress options, while mentally preparing myself for them to blow this day way out of proportion because they have no idea none of this is real.

Once we have a handful of dresses picked out, Cara leads Paige over to the seating area near the mirrors while I slip behind one of the pink curtains.

Hanging my selection of dresses on the hook, I strip out of my clothing.

Call me a cynic, but I don’t much care what I’m wearing today — I wasted my dream wedding on a nightmare husband.

Filled with equal amounts of regret and anxiety, I grab the first dress off the hanger.

For all intents and purposes, it’s fine.

It’s a pale pink chiffon bridesmaid dress, and while it’s pretty, there’s nothing jaw dropping about it.

“Cara, can you come in here for a second? I need help with the zipper.”

She joins me in the room, closing the curtain behind her before giving me a quick once over.

“Absolutely not. I can’t in good conscience let you wear a color that completely washes you out. Let's try something else.”

She sorts through the other dresses, stopping on the floral gown that I’ve already written off. The ivory strapless floor-length sweetheart gown is adorned with multicolored florals and greenery covering the entire bodice and skirt. It’s unconventional in the best way.

“This is the one,” she says. “Trust me.”

Cara helps me into the dress, securing the corset laces at the back as I stare at the floor. “You are breathtaking, Ivy.” She unclips my hair, letting it fall down my back in loose waves.

I tilt my head to examine myself in the full-length mirror. A small smile plays at my lips, but it doesn’t reach my eyes. “It’s beautiful,” I say. “But it’s too much.”

“I’m gonna ask you a question,” Cara says, “and I want you to be honest with me —”

“Ok.” I take a moment to mentally prepare myself for an uncomfortable conversation, but before Cara can ask the lingering question, my phone vibrates on the bench. “Hold that thought.”

Unknown: Your little fuckboy can’t save you.

The text is accompanied by a photo of me and Paige parked outside the bridal shop, and my entire body stiffens. My hands start to shake, causing me to drop my phone to the dressing room floor.

“Is everything ok in there?” Paige asks from the other side of the curtain.

“I don’t think so. Maybe you should come in,” Cara says. “Ivy, take a deep breath for me, okay?”

I’m practically suffocating behind the laces of the corset bodice, and I can’t stop the uncontrollable sob that escapes as my hands tug at the dress.

“I think she’s having a panic attack.” I can’t make out who’s speaking — their voices are a distant hum and my vision is blurred.

“Get the dress off her.”

“Ivy, hold my hand, hun.”

Suddenly, I find myself being dragged to the bench, in just my underwear, my girls wrapping their arms around me from either side.

A hand strokes over my hair and somebody is murmuring soothing words into my ears.

Eventually, I’m able to get my body under control, and I see the worry etched on their faces.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur, choking back a sob.

“Don’t apologize. Let’s just get you dressed and you can tell us what happened.”

I nod and silently stand to put on my yoga pants and t-shirt. When I turn back to my friends, they’re holding my phone in their hands, waiting for me to answer.

“Unlock it. The passcode is Rylin’s birthday.”

Paige taps in the code and her breath catches as a look of shock washes over her features. “That motherfucker! We need to tell the police.”

“We can’t prove it’s him. I just need to document everything for my next court date.”

“Alright.” Paige strokes her hand along my arm in a soothing gesture. “We’ll do that, but I think you need to tell Luca too.”

I absentmindedly pick at my thumbnail, not meeting their gazes as I brace myself for what comes next. “Why?”

“Because he’s trying to protect you from Austin, right? That’s what this whole impromptu marriage is about?”

“How did you…”

“I wasn’t born yesterday, Ivy Jo! This isn’t a romance novel. I’d recognize a marriage of convenience from a mile away. I still can’t believe you lied to me.”

“Ok. Ok. I’m sorry. In my defense, I told him you wouldn’t believe it.”

She shakes her head and huffs out a laugh. “He’s an idiot.”

“Hey, that’s my future husband you’re talking about.” Paige raises an eyebrow as she places the gown back on the hanger, handing it over to Cara.

“Let’s go pay for your dress and head over to the salon. I think a little pampering will do you some good. You can tell us the real story while we turn you into a blushing bride,” Cara says. “And before you argue with me, this is the dress. It’s perfect, Ivy.”