Page 116 of The Moments You Were Mine

How did I get here?

I stared into the mirror and wondered for the thousandth time if I was doing the right thing.

Then, I took a breath and reminded myself of everything Parker had said earlier, especially when he’d said he loved me. Sure, it had been in passing, as if it was already a foregone conclusion, but he’d said it. And he’d said he wanted to be with me, wanted me in his bed, waking up next to him every morning. Hearing him talk that way, hearing those sweet words, was a beautiful dream come true.

Until I thought of the baby and why he’d jumped off the ledge.

But Parker had sounded so sure when he said that wasn’t the only reason he was doing this. Seeing me on the ground after the bullets had flown had supposedly pulled back his blinders. But would I ever know for sure?

Why couldn’t I just let go of the doubts and enjoy this moment?

Looking into Whitney’s tri-fold mirror in her bedroom suite proved I’d gotten what I’d always dreamed. I was getting married. To Parker.

The door behind me opened, and my future mother-in-law came in with a glowing smile that hadn’t once faded since Parker had told her about our marriage.

She’d been happy every second of our afternoon together, gushingly so. When we were looking for dresses in an exclusive mall off The Strip, she’d told me, more than once, how she’d always thought this would happen. She was thrilled we were making a family for ourselves—one that included Theo.

Now, she took me in from head to toe, in that way that reminded me of her son, before she said, “You look absolutely gorgeous, Fallon. Parker is going to lose his mind.”

I looked back at my reflection.

The Cheongsam-styled dress I’d bought was the palest of aquas, just a shade above white. It was sleeveless with a Mandarin collar and sheer keyhole side and back inserts. The sheer inserts were topped with intricate flower appliques in shades of silver and a darker aqua with tiny seed pearls at theircenters. The dress had an organza top layer that floated from my waist to my calves and an inner satin lining that ended above my knee.

As soon as the sales clerk had brought it from the back, I’d known it was the one. Not just the right one for this spontaneous Vegas wedding, but the one I would have chosen no matter how long we’d planned the ceremony.

Even more perfect, I’d brought my favorite dark-teal cowboy boots with me, and they would match perfectly. The flowers on the boots even looked like they belonged in a matched set with the ones sewn on the bodice.

Fate.

That word shifted something inside me.

I tugged at a long curl that had been artfully left out of the updo. Whitney had finagled a hair and makeup team from the spa at Dad’s hotel to work me into their schedule, paying extra for a house call. The stylist had taken my normal braid and upleveled it. She’d twisted my hair into several small braids and then piled them together in an elegant knot at my crown, leaving plenty of long, loose tendrils curling down my back and over my shoulders. She’d worked the angle of my hair upfront to hide the knot at my temple as best she could, and the makeup folks had carefully applied cover-up over it. The bruising and swelling were still noticeable, but only if you really looked.

“You don’t need jewelry with the neckline of that dress,” Whitney said. “But I thought you might like this cuff to be your ‘something borrowed.’”

She took my hand and slid the bracelet on before I could object. The gracefully twined vines and flowers of silver wound from my wrist up to almost my elbow. It was as feminine and lovely as the floral appliques on my dress.

My throat momentarily closed.

Reading my wild emotions, Whitney risked messing up my hair and makeup to hug me. “You’re sure, Fallon. This is how you want to do it?”

I didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

I hoped it sounded as firm and confident as I wanted.

Her phone alarm jangled. “That’s us, then.”

I grabbed the small clutch I’d bought with the dress that now contained my phone and a few essentials. I wouldn’t need anything else for this short jaunt downtown to The Fortress. We’d be back in a few hours, and I’d no longer just be Fallon Marquess-Harrington, but Fallon Marquess-Harrington-Steele. I’d have to choose what name to use going forward. Should I keep something from my heritage, or was it time to start a new era? Was it time for a family called the Steeles to take over? Maybe that was all it would take to break the curse Uncle Adam insisted lingered over us.

But I didn’t have to decide tonight. It could wait.

We made our way out of Whitney’s room and down to the first floor. My head swiveled, searching the great room for Parker, but there was no sign of him or Theo. They’d been absent when we’d returned from shopping as well.

“He’s meeting us at the chapel,” Whitney responded to my unanswered question.

My nerves jangled. The independent piece of me that had sworn I could do anything on my own hated needing him here to calm my nerves, but I did.

I needed my doubts to be soothed by more charming words and a kiss that held the promises we were making to each other.