30. Chapter 30
Skye
T he rushing in Skye’s ears drowned out the noise of the parade preparations on the other-side of the tent walls surrounding her.
Tremors wracked her body from head to toe, and she’d backed as far away from the garment bag as the tented space allowed.
She sank to the ground, barely recognizing the grass as it pricked her skin.
She gripped the short leaves, reaching toward the dirt and digging her nails into the earth.
She didn’t blink, couldn’t move, as she stared and stared at the beautiful nightmare before her.
She’d chosen this gown; the floral lace having drawn her like a bee to a rose. Skye had felt like the goddess of spring, relishing the fit and flared design hugging her hips and accentuating her assets.
But the back of the dress… A row of delicate ivory fabric buttons descended to the floor. A long line of classic beauty. A long chain for caging her.
Despite loving the dress, Skye couldn’t stand the sight of it, and the thought of touching it made her physically ill. The elegant fabric begged to be caressed, but it was a lovely prison in its own right.
Terror froze her eyes wide open. She couldn’t turn away.
Sounds of others coming and going reached her as if from down a long tunnel, Elyza’s voice, then a hand on her shoulder.
Male voices floated outside the canopy walls, Declan and Dash if she wasn’t mistaken.
They were supposed to escort the ladies on the float after all.
It made sense they’d be nearby. Their voices faded in and out.
Declan sounded worried, and she wanted to reassure them she was okay.
She would be okay. But she couldn’t lie either.
The words and the courage to speak eluded her. She just needed some time.
The linen wall behind her parted and admitted a gust of warm air that brushed against her neck, lifting the tiny hairs there.
Heavy footsteps entered the space, a solid, reassuring presence.
Familiar. Comfortable. She could feel him behind her, steady and ready to help her find control.
Still, Skye didn’t face him. She couldn’t unlock her limbs or convince her mind to quiet enough to convey her needs.
“I can’t,” she whispered, the fabric walls absorbing her words.
She wasn’t sure what she expected from him. Surely Rabble was disappointed in her. She certainly was.
Rabble walked in front of her, blocking her view of the dress. He was a vision in worn jeans and a button-down, sleeves rolled to his elbows. The tanned skin of his forearms stood out against the white of his shirt, jarring her and giving her something new to focus on.
Kneeling down, he gently cupped her face in his hands, brushing his thumbs across her pale cheeks reverently. He kissed her forehead, once, twice, then pulled back and studied her.
“It’s okay, Skye.” His voice was reassuring, affirming, everything she dreamed of.
“I don’t want to be afraid.” A sob she was helpless to stop escaped her chest.
Rabble caught her eye, putting every ounce of love and devotion into his words. “I know.”
He stood and turned away from her, and Skye fought the urge to reach out and grab him, to keep his warmth nearby. His large hand touched the delicate fabric of the dress and pulled it out. Wincing, she closed her eyes, shrinking back from it as if the garment might bite her.
“You got this, Skye. I’ll be right there with you.” His hands moved tenderly over the fabric. The same way he touched her. “This doesn’t define you. You’re strong and capable, and you can do this. If you want to.”
Skye locked eyes with Rabble, and what she saw there made her blood heat in the best way. Those storm-cloud eyes simmered with every desire he didn’t say aloud, with every need that fired his blood; his devotion to her reflected there.
From her chest, a warmth spread outward, up into her arms and down her legs, unlocking her muscles and settling her a little further into her body.
Setting her jaw, Skye moved to her knees and Rabble helped her to her feet. And when she hesitantly took the dress from him, he shot her one more challenging glance before stepping out of the tent.
Skye ran her fingers lovingly along the lace applique and followed the skirt downward.
It had a long train, one that would drag the ground majestically.
She took a lengthy breath and let it out slowly before counting to ten and starting over.
Then, before she could lose her nerve, she stripped out of her clothes and slipped into the wedding dress of her dreams.
At the first feel of the material against her skin, she slammed back into her body. This dress didn’t feel like the other with its stiff, scratchy material, and the skirt didn’t puff out around her, threatening to suffocate her beneath too many uncomfortable layers.
No, this dress was wholly, wonderfully different.
The crystal pins in her hair perfectly complemented the dress, as did her make-up. While nothing fancy, it got the job done, and she felt beautiful. Better yet, she even almost felt confident—an odd feeling considering touching the dress also made her want to withdraw and run away.
Skye smoothed her hands down the sides and took another steadying breath before pushing aside the tent flap and stepping into the sunlight.
I can do this. I will do this. I am strong.
While she’d been hiding, the warehouse grounds had become a hotbed of activity.
People she’d known her whole life milled about, calling to each other, cracking jokes, and enjoying their lives—as if her entire world hadn’t been flipped on its axis.
She felt disconnected from them, further from them than she’d ever been.
As they’d prepared for their town’s prized Independence Day parade, she had been through hell at the hands of their town leadership.
Something like envy welled inside her; it was an ugly feeling.
She hated it, certain she wouldn’t have experienced it just a few days ago.
Her eyes sought out Elyza, Kellyn, and Bekah, who all stood next to the float.
Elyza posed everyone exactly where she wanted them, including Dash and Declan standing in for the two grooms. Declan grinned, the picture of ease and charisma in a sharp black tuxedo.
Dash, on the other hand, seemed decidedly resigned to his fate, despite looking dangerously good in a slick black three-piece suit.
With the flower girls and ring-bearer in place, Elyza was ready for the brides.
Dash helped Kellyn onto the trailer, his hands maintaining a respectful grasp on her waist as he lifted her gently.
Dash followed her up and allowed Elyza to position them like mannequins.
When she finished, Elyza handed Kellyn her bouquet with a smile.
Next, Declan helped Bekah find her place, his hands decidedly lower on her hips when he gave her a boost onto the float.
He grinned and winked when she gave him a playful whack with her bouquet, and he hopped up on the trailer after her.
Elyza rolled her eyes but refused to let them distract her from moving them into position.
Knowing it was her turn, Skye took a fortifying breath and stepped toward her friends. Elyza saw her and rushed to gather the long train of her gown to keep it from dragged along the grass and over the gravel behind Skye.
“Oh, Skye!” Elyza put a hand to her chest and practically squealed with delight. “You are an absolute vision.”
“I’ll have you stand in the center, between Bekah and Kellyn since you don’t have a groo—” Elyza’s jaw dropped as Rabble stepped up to stand beside Skye.
“I’ve got her,” he rumbled. And he did.
The man was gorgeous in those faded blue jeans and a white button-down shirt, his tanned forearms exposed to the summer sun, and he wore the fine heather-gray vest from his truck, dressing up the otherwise relaxed outfit.
It worked for him. Better yet, it worked for Skye.
And it seemed to work for Elyza too because she beckoned Rabble onto the float.
After he took Skye’s hand and pulled her onto the trailer beside him, he led her to stand between their friends, and Elyza handed her the final bouquet, the navy blues and ruby reds standing out brilliantly against her cream dress.
Skye could feel the heat of his palms through her delicately crafted layers, and she fidgeted, trying to get closer to him.