Experiment in Terror Book 9 - Page 63

True to us, we ended up booking the Salish Lodge, overlooking Snoqualmie Falls. It was an absolutely beautiful setting, with the air coated in a fine mist from the roar of the waterfall and the autumnal yellow and gold peppered forest rising up on all sides. But really, we booked it because it’s The Great Northern Hotel from Twin Peaks. I mean, come on. David Lynch, Agent Cooper, Log Lady and Killer Bob – totally us.

“How long is Rebecca going to be?” Ada asked. After the officiant had paid me a visit and went over the last minute details of the ceremony, I had sent Rebecca to go get my father, who would be walking me down the aisle, plus Dean and Seb, Dex’s best men.

“I don’t know,” I said, getting out of my chair, careful not to get my dress caught. It was off-white, long and lacey with a b.u.t.ton-up back. I’d found it in a vintage store in Portland – was never even sure if it was supposed to be a wedding dress or not – but it was too perfect for words. It showed off my waist, hips and b.o.o.bs, yet still looked elegant and demure, almost like I was some sort of fragile fairy. I wore my hair down, in long twisting waves, while Rebecca had fixed in a few sparkling clear jewels into my hair to complete the ethereal look.

“I’m going to go touch up my makeup,” I told her, grabbing my purse off the table and sliding the bag of chips back toward her. I already had a s.h.i.tload of makeup on my face but I needed something, anything, to do, than to sit here and wait.

After I stealthily made it to the bathroom, paranoid I’d run into people, or Dex, I touched up my pink lipstick and tried to take in a few deep breaths. I didn’t know why I was so nervous. It had nothing to do with marrying Dex whatsoever. I definitely didn’t like crowds or people or being the certain of attention. And I guess I just figured something would go horribly wrong.

New York seemed long ago but not long enough. The memories still haunted me and they were made worse today. Maximus would have been one of Dex’s groomsman. My mother had always wanted me to get married. Neither of them would be here. Maybe in spirit – always in spirit – just as I knew Pippa would be. But the fact that they were both taken from us left me with a hollow pain in my chest that hadn’t gone away.

For the longest time, I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to get married. Though I wanted to spend my life with Dex, it didn’t seem right, or even fair, to do something that would make me happy. My mother was dead and though we had never been close, she’d always been my mom. She would have liked this wedding – okay, she would have nit-picked the s.h.i.t out of it – but she would have been here and she would have been happy for me.

It just didn’t seem right to celebrate anything. But it was my dad who insisted we go through with the ceremony, because it’s what my mother would have wanted and it’s what he wanted. He needed this, to feel his friends and family around him, to see his daughter on her happiest day of her life. Ada needed it. And maybe I needed it too.

I blinked back the few tears that teased at my eyes and stared at myself in the mirror. I wasn’t sure if it was the makeup artist or what, but I really did looking like a glowing, blushing bride. I just wanted more than anything to cry tears of love, not tears of loss.

I sighed and gave myself the once over then opened the door to the hallway.

Dex was standing right there, back to me, and I could only give out a faint shriek before he turned around and saw me.

“No!” I yelled at him, horrified, as if I’d been caught naked by someone.

His eyes widened. “f.u.c.k me.”

I turned around to head back into the bathroom but he quickly reached out and grabbed my arm, bringing me to him.

I stared up at him, still shocked and worried that he had seen me before the wedding, but also soothed by his touch and revved by his look. My G.o.d he looked f**king handsome as anything, wearing a tuxedo and bowtie that complemented his athletic body and made him the s.e.xiest James Bond ever. He was as close to clean-shaven as he could be, which still meant some masculine stubble, and had taken out his eyebrow ring. But his face looked clear, deadly handsome, and his eyes, his beautiful dark eyes – they were watering.

Oh no, not good.

“Perry,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “You look beautiful. So d.a.m.n beautiful. I think my heart is on the floor.”

I gulped, now regretting my wish for happy tears. They wanted to barge on out and ruin my makeup. “You’re not supposed to see me, Dex!” I said in an angry hush. “It’s bad luck to see the bride before the ceremony.”

His mouth quirked up. “Is that right? Listen, kiddo, the two of us have had all the bad luck in the world. I say bring it f**king on.”

“I’m serious,” I said.

He grabbed both my hands and kissed me softly on the forehead. “So am I,” he mumbled against my skin.

I closed my eyes and fell into his touch. Immediately the ache in my heart was soothed, my nerves stopped fizzing. His lips brought me peace and warmth.

“Can we just stay like this and skip the ceremony?” I said into his chest. I could feel his heart beating steadily beneath his suit.

“Nah,” he said. “We’d have a herd of angry people out there and I really don’t want your father to punch me again, especially now that your uncle is here. Don’t tell me that they aren’t part of the mafia because you and I both know that they have some sneaky s.h.i.t going on.”

“And now you’re being welcomed into the family,” I said, doing my best Brando impression. I lifted my head and stared up at him. “Do you really think I look beautiful?”

He smiled so warmly I felt it in my toes. “Perry, you are so f**king beautiful, you’re making me want to cry. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a sight on earth more beautiful than you right now.”

I smiled softly as a single tear leaked out.

“And seriously, if I wasn’t so scared of your father, I’d take you into that bathroom and f**k you good and hard against the wall, cuz my G.o.d, your br**sts right now…”

Dex rarely looked impressed and always walked around with a smart-a.s.s smirk on his face. It was part of his appeal. But he was impressed. He was floored.

I stepped out of his grasp and punched him lightly in the side. “Hey, it’s not my fault they’re always the focal point.”

“I ain’t complaining,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “You still look very tasteful.” He smirked and added, “Tastefully f**kable.”