Page 132 of Jack
He’d driven them back to the inn in silence and hadn’t even attempted to stop her as she followed Penelope to their room.
She’d sort of hoped for a late-night regroup in front of the hearth. Something that included his arms around her, telling her—what?That he loved her? That he wanted a future with her?
There went her imagination again.
Just stop thinking. Breathe. Enjoy.
“Nearly ready for the dress.” This from Megan, their very busy wedding planner.
“Thanks for finding Penelope,” Boo said. “If I’d known she was really in danger, I would have stopped everything and sent out a search party.”
“Honestly, we thought she was fine. I called her security, and he said she’d checked in. And then Conrad got the scary voicemail.”
“I told Franco that I was going back to Minneapolis,” Penelope said, coming over. “But I didn’t realize I’d sent the voicemail.” Of course, her dark-blue V-necked velvet bridesmaid dress fit like a glove over her tall, slender body. The hairdresser had coifed her hair into a waterfall of dark curls and drips.
The poor woman had tried to do something—anything—with Harper’s short hair, and in the end had added a few curls, flips, and a gold barrette.
Harper feltcute.Maybesweetly pretty.The girl next door, standing on the edge of what she really wanted. So maybe this was the best Harper could hope for.
“With the extra security team that Oaken’s crew hired, we’re all safe now,” Boo continued. “Everything is going to be fine.”
Right. What she said.
“Okay, Bride, you’re up.” Megan had positioned Boo’s shoes in the puddle of the dress and now took Boo’s hand and helped her over to the dais. Then, while Megan held the dress open, Austen and her mother steadied Boo as she stepped into the gown.
Harper’s throat filled watching Boo transform into a bride as Megan pulled the dress up around her. The beaded-lace sheath wedding dress framed her toned body, the long-sleeve arms ending in scallops. The deep V back, with covered buttons, formed a bodice with a lacy décolletage and cat-eye neckline.
“Wow, Boo,” said London, also elegant in her gown and long blonde hair, swooped up. “That works.”
Boo grinned. “It was my mom’s.”
“Oh,” said Mama Em. “We updated it, a lot. Added sleeves and took in some around the waist. The chapel-length train is all hers. I wasn’t that fancy when I married Grover.” But Boo’s mother wore a look in her eyes that made Harper wish . . .
Aw,she wished for too much, probably. Her wishes got her in too much trouble.
Just stop thinking. Enjoy.
“Something old,” Boo’s mother said and handed Boo a strand of pearls. “Your grandmother’s.” She attached them around Boo’s neck as Megan buttoned up the back of the dress.
“And something new,” said Austen. “Oaken asked me to give these to you.” She opened a box, and inside sat diamond earrings.
“Wow,” said Penelope. “Good man.”
Boo lifted them out, affixed them in her ears.
“I got you the quote you wanted,” said London, and lifted a small index card.
“What’s that?” Harper asked.
“A line fromWuthering Heights.” She read the card: “Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.”
“I don’t think you’ll forget that,” her mother said.
“Just in case,” London said, “I’ll stick this into the something blue.” She folded the card and tucked it between the blue and white roses of the bridal bouquet in a stand on a table in the room.
And in Harper’s mind, she was already writing her article.
In the softly lit bridal suite, a sanctuary of calm and beauty buzzes gently with the quiet excitement of a wedding morning. Here, Brontë steps into more than just a dress; she is slipping into a story woven from generations of love.